#Stripper!reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lostalioth · 1 month ago

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𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬

→ premise: at the club where you danced it wasn’t unusual for you to have regulars, they were normally gross married men but there was one regular that stood out from the rest, your favorite. a grumpy ‘business’ man with a black metal arm.

→ pairing: mob!bucky barnes x dancer!fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, lap dance, choking, grinding/dry humping, nicknames [sweetness, sugar, princess], reader calls bucky mr. barnes & james, whore is used in a derogatory way once at reader, violent language used once, mention of a gun + description of it aimed at someone, mob!bucky but he’s described more as a ‘bussiness’ man sooo, and reader is described as dancing sexually for/on men.

→ a/n: kinktober 15

You were Bucky's favorite.

Now he’d never visited many clubs like yours for anything other than business meetings. The men he was making deals with often picked the spots, he merely indulged their requests so they'd be more willing to fulfill his and do business with him. After a client requests they meet at your club ‘the spades’ however he finds himself coming far more often than just his everyday dealings. All for the pretty little dancer wearing black and gold on stage.

Bucky swears the moment he laid eyes on you, that you were made for him. He made an arrangement with the owner to allow him to do his work out of the club sometimes. Part of that deal included that everytime he came in, he’d request you. If you weren't working that day he told the other dancers not to bother him, he wanted you, only you. And when you were busy the owner tried offering him the services of another dancer for the time being. Bucky simply threw the combined money it was to pay for his session and pay for the gentlemen’s session you were with to end. “I want her, just her” he explained leaning back against the cushioned bench in a private room he often occupied paying the other dancer no mind as she huffed lightly and walked away.

Unbeknownst to Bucky, you had taken note of which days he’d come in to do business and started to request those days to work instead of your regular schedule. Happily indulging the mysterious man's request for you everytime. The other girls were often pissy at you for it, not understanding why he never requested any of them. He was a very attractive man, far more attractive than any of your usual grimy regulars that they had to deal with. He often tipped you far above the price for a dance session as well, slipping a few extra hundreds into your bra with a cocky smirk.

The cycle has been going on for around 4 almost 5 months now and as each week has passed you learnt more and more about him. First it was basic stuff like his age and his name even his birthday as he came to the club on the day for it.

“You’re the only birthday present I need sugar” his face holding that signature cocky smirk although under his usual deep sometimes sarcastic tone you could hear the sincerity. “Guess I’ve gotta treat ya’ extra special for tonight’s dance huh?” You smile in return trying to ignore your heart skipping a beat.

Then eventually you learned things like how he always was packing a piece everywhere he went, but you had never felt it before cause he takes it off before you come to him. You learned where he kept it when one drunk guy got too aggressive with you when you tried ending his session because Bucky had walked in. The guy was pulling you back to him with an extra hard grip on your arm.

“Uh- sir you're not allowed to grab the dancers..” you explain, a slight edge to your voice you were nervous. He was grumbling something about how you weren't done and if he was gonna pay that much for a whore to dance then she should at least finish. You couldn't tell as it was all coming out a gargled slurred mess. Bucky had come over to break it up, or well break it up his way. Pulling his gun out on the guy, pointing it towards his head as he rested a hand on your lower back. “If you don‘t let go of her in the next few seconds, your brains are gonna be splattered across the stage and that dancer's feet up there. Do we understand each other?” He explained in an oddly calm tone, everybody else in the club was frozen, even the owner and the guards, they all knew not to mess with Bucky. Safe to say the man let go and hadn’t come back to your club after that. And you tried your hardest not to let bucky feel the fact your core was soaking wet as you danced on him after that altercation. He could very much tell, it was hard not to and it sent an ache straight to his cock, he loved that him protecting you and threatening the man got you all riled up.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ♤ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You were currently dancing up on the long runway stage that ran down the middle of the club, sexy slow music that was playing filled the room alongside drunk men hooting and hollering at you. As you bent over at the waist rolling your hips and showing off your plump ass to the crowd earning you even louder wolf whistles you notice Bucky walk in. The end of the stage facing the front door, you smile lightly. You tried to push it down but an odd happiness always filled your body when he came in, maybe it was just because he was more entertaining than any of your other regulars or the fact he was sweet on you. You didn't know what it was but you’d much rather entertain him than the hammered bachelor party that was sitting as close as they could be to the stage.

Snapping back up facing away from the group of men you walk back up the stage with a sway in your hips making your way off it. Bucky secretly loved it every time you’d leave what you were doing to come to him, he was your priority the second he’d walk in and you made the other customers know it. Grabbing a hold of his hand you drag him along behind you still swaying your hips softly in rhythm with the music.

Bucky never let anyone tell him what to do ever, let alone drag him anywhere but he swears you hypnotize him with your hips rocking side to side. If you asked him to in that sweet tone of yours while batting your eyelashes at him he’d kill someone, anyone in a heartbeat. You barely even have to drag him along as you make your way towards the private room he always used, using your grip however to pull him in the room, closing the curtain and placing him down on the velvet cushioned seat.

“Always know just what I want the second I walk in huh sweetness?” He coos, his eyes roaming your body as you sway around in front him giving him a whole 360 view of your skimpy outfit. You were wearing black and gold again, you wore the combination of colors more often once you noticed the fact it matched his metal prosthetic as well as when he told you they were his favorite colors on you.

“Of course Mr. Barnes” you smile at him, slowly making your way closer resting your mancuried hands down on his thighs running them up painfully slow. “I told you that ya’ can call me James, princess” he tsks and slightly shakes his head as his body relaxes under your touch. Bending over you lean in closer, your face inches away from his, his whiskey and cool mint breath wafting through your nose and your addictive perfume filling Buckys. “Okay Jamesss..” you drag out his name giving it an emphasis that makes his cock ache as it falls past your lips and his breath hitch in his throat. You smirk and spin your body around to continue dancing and rub your ass lightly over his thighs as your hands grip onto them. Slowly you snap back up to stand straight in front of him, your body between his now spread out thighs. Running your hands along your body as you dance, down your sides and over your ass as your hips move and whine. His hands brush over your hips and up your sides as you dance on his lap, even brushing over yours, goosebumps rising on your skin under his touch.

Swaying and spinning around again before you get too lost in his touch, making him drop his hands you turn to face him as you make your way closer again. Placing your knee down besides his large body you push your weight up and put your other knee down on the other side of him so your body is hovering over his lap. Leaning against the back of the bench he smirks as your hips gyrate and sway over his lap. Needing to feel your body and your skin under his hands again he grabs ahold of your waist pushing you down further onto his lap. “Might as well sit where ya’ belong sugar” he chuckles lightly, his hands not letting go of your hips as you keep on dancing on his lap. Hips grinding and body moving in tune to the music yet you were practically dry humping him now. Your hands push at his chest as you continue dancing, trying your hardest to not think about how good it feels to be almost grinding your cunt against his cock.

This isn't how you were meant to be dancing on him, and he certainly wasn’t supposed to be touching you as much as he was and yet from the moment he shook hands with the owner and made that deal those rules never applied to him. His right hand slowly drifts up your side over your chest and up towards your neck. Your eyes are locked with his as he wraps his fingers around your neck. You have to bite your lip to stop a whine slipping out, his grip not hard yet tight enough that you lose a bit of oxygen and your head starts to spin.

His jeans thighten as his cock throbs in his denim prison, “Fuck princess, wish we had far more privacy than this stupid curtain” he growls out. Your hips grind down harder against him in response, your core aching for pleasure now as your eyes screw shut. Bucky lets go of your neck only to grab ahold of your chin pulling your face down close to his. You’ve come to know that when he grabs your face he wants you to pay attention, pulling you closer almost like it's a secret. You open your eyes, your pupils so big there's barely a ring of their beautiful color left around them as you look at him. He smirks, dropping his voice to a whisper. “How much for you to just quit this dumb club and be my little personal dancer huh sweetness?” He asks, a cocky yet serious tone in his voice.

“What…?” You whisper in response, a bit fuzzy on what he was asking. “Quit and come live with me, be my personal dancer, ya’ practically already are princess” he explains further, your hips have not exactly stopped their grinding which only makes his smirk grow bigger. “i cant- i can't quit i need this job for the money” you stutter out yet you knew deep down he didn't really have to even offer you a penny and you’d be giving your two weeks notice and walking out that front door with him but you had to try your best to stand your ground.

“I’ll give you triple whatever the largest amount that you’ve made was sugar, just want ya’ all to myself..” the last part of his statement comes out in a whisper that you don’t know if you were meant to hear or not. A sweet smile spreads on your face as your hands run down his chest landing on his hips as you push yourself up, counting to dance on his lap.

“Then i do believe we have a deal Mr. Barnes”

He makes a clicking sound with his tongue and tilts his head, waiting on you to correct yourself.

“Jameesss” you coo in correction, affection almost dripping from your voice, giggling softly when his hand falls back around your throat and his grip tightens back up. A sound that makes Bucky's head spin and a matching smile form on his face.

→ a/n: i had so many thoughts for mob!bucky x dancer/stripper!reader’s dymanic that i got a bit carried away and i also wanna write for them again. also this wasn’t proofread

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rafesfavbimbo · 1 month ago

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The Other Woman.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Stripper!Reader

tw: Cheating! (not on reader) Drug & Alchohol use! Descriptions of smut! Angst!

“The other woman has time to manicure her nails

The other woman is perfect where her rival fails.”

Her arms feel like the sun on a breezy day. Shining on him and encasing him in warmth while the cool winds prickle at his skin. Her scent like a pheromone that was designed solely to attract him. Her skin like expensive silk under his fingertips, delicate and smooth. Her lips felt like satin, brushing and sponging against his skin, lips and body in a way that was entirely addictive. She was entirely addictive; she was his haven. The luxury between her legs only he had access too. Her arousal was a flavor that could never be matched and that he yearned for when she wasn’t on his tongue. Slipping inside her felt like he had a taste of heaven, something he was entirely dedicated to worshipping. She was a deity he would willingly sacrifice his soul and life to.

“Baby… she keeps calling you.” Whispered out that voice that was like a sweet symphony to his ears and calmed down the ocean of complex emotions that dwelled in his heart. Rafe groaned into disappointment at his moment of peace being interrupted once more, burying his face deeper in the softness of her tummy while her manicured nails grazed his scalp. Feeling the soft pricks of hair under her smooth finger tips, touching him with a delicacy only she knew how to have. He sighed once more before bringing his head up and reaching a hand over to the incessant buzzing next to them in her satin sheets. Watching as Sofia’s contact showed for the 5th time that hour.

Rafe can’t exactly blame her, he promised her a nice dinner. Yet, he got to caught up in the girl who captivated his entire being and the one whose inner legs he finds solace in every night or day he can. Just seeing her glimmering smile or seductive gaze makes his knees buckle. He’s entirely fascinated by her, like a diamond in the rough of people who inhabit the island they live on. She’s unlike anything or anyone he’s ever known, the way she maneuvers her body on stage and glimmers under the club lights. The way he was entirely bewitched by the siren she was. He won’t ever forget the night Topper and Kelce dragged him out to a club he had no interest in being at. Small, yet no conviction in his claims of, ‘I have a girl, bro.’ He’s so entirely grateful he went. Topper’s convincing of, ‘what she doesn’t know won’t kill her, man. Trust there’s this girl there that will drive you insane. She’s got me and Kelce hooked.’ To which Rafe gave a small eye roll and scoff of, ‘any girl with her tits out has your attention.’ Topper only laughed and Kelce along with him before biting back a, ‘but hers are premium.’ As they all toppled into his truck.

That night was fate, and he knew that any woman he met or has yet to meet will pale in comparison to the goddess who’s enthralled his being and keeps him stuck in a perpetual state of desire for her and her alone. The moment he saw her glide across stage, in nothing but glimmering lingerie and wild hair. Her eyes packed on with glitter and pretty lips glossed so enticingly. Her body the kind of thing men carve into stone to keep as a recollection for life. The way she slithered across stage with her eyes set on him and only him. Singling him out while the cheers and hoots of his friends, other club goers and patrons faded into the background. Both of them fascinated with one another. The way she slung herself across his lap with her freed tits pressing into him and her intoxicating perfume swirling around him like an aphrodisiac.

“The other woman enchants her clothes with French perfume.”

He paid for a lap dance that very night and let her help him escape in the private room under glaring, neon pink lights. Running his hands over every inch of her beautiful body as scraped her long nails against his skin and moved sensually across him. That night sealed their fate, and it didn’t take much convincing to let him take her home to Tannyhill. Making out in the back of Topper’s truck while him and Kelce smirked as they watched through the rear-view mirror. Praising their friend and promising to seal their lips when they were dropped off. That night y/n and Rafe brought their bodies and souls together, all night long. Sweat sticking them together as her inner thighs dripped with their mixed arousal. Their lips not leaving any inch of each other‘s bodies undiscovered. He marked her that night with his possession and allowed her to rake her nails down his strong back, calculating in his mind how he’d hide it from Sofia.

After that night any thought of another woman aside from the one under him was gone, his girlfriend included. The unsaid energy bringing their souls together as if they were lovers destined to meet. He licked and snorted lines off her body as he rubbed the powdery substance against her gums. Pouring champagne on her as he licked it up and let it soak his sheets right next to her arousal. She was like an added substance he was quickly growing addicted to and he knew this was an addiction that would never end. He took her apart over the balcony under the stars of the night sky as she whined and whimpered into the warm air. He was king and she would be queen.

Now months later their affair is still going strong, he more often than not finds himself entangled in her at her penthouse he put her into. Vowing to move her into his mansion next. He’s yet find a way to end things with Sofia, he knows y/n is the one he wants to settle with. He wants everything with her. Aside from the passion that connects them physically it’s the understanding of their minds that really links them together. She understands him, she loves him in all his dark glory. Allowing him to be himself without feeling the need to try and fix him. Her understands her, in all her shady grandeur. They’re just as fucked up as one another; she’s not ashamed of who he truly is. She doesn’t keep him from changing either, she grows alongside him as the learn to love one another beautifully.

Rafe tells her about his dad, the pogues, even the yearning he has to reconcile with his sister. He cries to her and lets her hold him as he sobs into her naked chest, feeling her kiss his tears away. She always whispers soft, ‘let it out, baby. it’s okay, I’m here.’ Consoling him with gentle caresses and kisses. He feels guilt, guilt for keeping her in the shadows of secrecy. Yet, he’s not ready for the universe they’ve built for themselves to come to an end. He doesn’t want to share her with the world, he’s selfish and wants her all to himself. He keeps her locked away in the luxurious penthouse he’s granted her and has even taken her out of the club by providing for her. She’s his hidden gem, he knows it hurts her. It hurts him too.

He finds it difficult to end things with Sofia. Her softness and kindness to him never forgotten. He’s still fond of the girl who was there for him when no one else was. Who listened to him cry and his grieving words as he spread his father’s ashes into the ocean. Sofia is familiar, she’s routine. She’s comfortable in a different way and he doesn’t want to let it go. He knows he deeply adores y/n, he loves her with every fiber of his being. But he loved Sofia first, she’ll always have a place in his heart for the kindness and love she granted him when he needed it most. That’s why he leaves y/n every morning to go back to her. He knows it’s cowardly; he knows it’s completely selfish. He can see the tears falling from her closed eyes as she pretends to be asleep while he softly walks around the bedroom as to not wake her when he leaves in the mornings. He always knows she’s awake. Especially when he presses a kiss to her forehead as he softly strokes her hair. Promising with a whisper to her skin that he’ll be back and that he loves her. He’ll always go back for her, he’ll always go back to her.

When he greets Sofia, she looks at him with those pretty doe eyes that are so different yet just as beautiful as the ones he’s grown accustomed to love. Natural lashes in comparison to y/n’s pretty extensions he pays for. They’re both so beautiful, yet so different to him. Especially in the way they hold his gaze. When he kisses Sofia it’s not quite as intoxicating, yet he likes it nonetheless. Her scent not as addictive but he still finds himself burying his nose into her neck as he hugs her. While Sofia is all earthly beauty, y/n is pure glamour. Sofia is soft, meek, not a touch of makeup kisses her pretty face. Whereas y/n is more resilient, durable and she has to be in the line of work she succumbed to. With the way of life she lived. Her gorgeous face accentuated by flawlessly done makeup. He doesn’t think she needs it, but he loves it nonetheless. Sofia’s nails are always blunt and rarely polished, y/n’s nails always have a nicely perfected manicure. Sofia loves sandals and sneakers, y/n loves wedges and heels. Sofia’s lips always moisturized with chapstick, y/n lips always glimmering with gloss. He likes how different they are from their personalities to their styles. They’re like day and night. Polar opposites so beautiful in their own right. He’s a selfish, selfish man. He knows one day he’ll have to choose, but for now….he holds both hearts in the palm of his hand. Only one of them is feeling the stabbing pain of abandonment and pining the other has the pleasure of not being subjected too. He knows it, yet he can’t help it. Sofia is pure routine, y/n is his passion. Being with her is like being inebriated. Like an adrenaline rush he always craves, that he loves. He lives for it.

“And when her old man comes to call

He finds her waiting like a lonesome queen.

‘Cause to be by her side

It's such a change from old routine.”

Y/n waits, she always will. She knows he’ll be back. She’s begged him to stay, but he never does. Just a quick promise of his awaited return as his fully clothed body steps to her naked one which is kneeling in the satin sheets. A representation of the vulnerability she’s subjected herself to just for his approval. Her long lashes clumped with tears as her chin wobbles. He thinks she looks so beautiful like this; the dark part of him liking the way she longs and whines for him. He always gives her chin a quick pinch as he pulls away from their kiss and steps out of the bedroom. Y/n always falls back into the sheets as the tears that watered in her lash line fall down her smooth cheeks. Listening to his footsteps farthering and ultimately the front door closing shut as he leaves her once more.

She knows why, she knows what she is. A secret, a mistress. His side girl. She can’t help it; the desire she has for him overcoming her self worth and respect for his girlfriend. She feels the grief that fills her body every time he leaves, only to disappear every time he returns. She can’t bring herself to end it. Can’t bring herself to leave him alone, or give him an ultimatum that it’s me or her. She knows it’s pathetic, yet she can’t bring that thought to overcome the undying love she’s developed for him. So she does as he wants, she waits for him. She always will. When her body lays back down, and she’s sure he’s gone. Only then is when she lets the overwhelming hurt leave her body in sobs of pure anguish as she lets sleep overtake her body. Succumbing to the fatigue of a heart that is continually broken.

“The other woman will always cry herself to sleep

The other woman will never have his love to keep.”

a/n: was feeling angsty tn ugh. i hope you all enjoy, pls let me know your thoughts! muah!

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 5 months ago

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hey ley… 35 year old university professor (mommy) wanda goes to a strip club for her friends hen do and sees reader, her 21 year old student working there. wandas friends watch wanda watching reader dance for hours and decide to pay for her lap dance. how does this end up?

sorry if this isn’t explained right english isn’t my native language

Strip That Down

Professor!Wanda Maximoff x Student!Stripper!fem!reader

Word Count: 5.6K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Lap dance, strip club, fluff, angst, happy ending

A/N: This took on a life of it's own

Wanda Maximoff, a university professor, found herself reluctantly at a strip club, all thanks to her friend's insistence on celebrating her bachelorette party in the most unconventional way possible. The loud music, flashing lights, and the wild atmosphere were far from her usual quiet and academic environment.

Her friends were having a blast, cheering and laughing, while Wanda sipped her drink, trying to blend into the background. That was until her eyes caught sight of one of the dancers stepping onto the stage. The dancer moved with a grace and confidence that captivated the audience, but what really caught Wanda’s attention was the familiar face.

It was you, her student. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. You were mesmerizing, your movements fluid and enchanting. Wanda watched in awe, her mind racing with a mix of surprise, curiosity, and something else she couldn’t quite place.

Hours passed, but it felt like minutes. Wanda's friends, noticing her unwavering focus on you, began to whisper among themselves. They exchanged knowing glances and mischievous smiles.

"Hey, Wanda," one of them nudged her playfully, "You seem really interested in that dancer. Why don't we make this night even more unforgettable?"

Before Wanda could protest, they pooled their money and called over one of the staff members. Moments later, you were stepping off the stage and being guided toward a private room, where Wanda was already seated, her heart pounding in her chest.

You entered the room, your eyes widening slightly in recognition. “Professor Maximoff?” you asked, clearly surprised but maintaining your professional composure.

“Please, call me Wanda,” she replied, her voice a bit shaky.

You nodded, stepping closer, your movements still graceful and hypnotic. “Alright, Wanda. Let’s make this an experience you’ll never forget.”

As the music started, you began your dance, your eyes locked onto hers. The air was thick with tension, the boundaries of your usual professor-student relationship blurring with each passing second. Wanda’s friends watched from a distance, giggling and whispering, knowing they had given her a night she would remember for a long time.

As the music ended and the dance came to a close, you lingered for a moment, meeting Wanda's gaze with an intensity that left her breathless. The atmosphere in the private room was charged with an undeniable tension, and Wanda found herself at a loss for words.

"Thank you," she finally managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. "That was...incredible."

You smiled, a hint of shyness now breaking through your confident demeanor. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Wanda."

There was an awkward pause, both of you unsure of how to proceed. The professional lines had been blurred, and it was difficult to revert back to your usual roles.

"Do you want to talk for a bit?" you offered, sensing her discomfort but also wanting to prolong this unexpected encounter.

Wanda nodded, grateful for the suggestion. "Yes, that would be nice."

You sat down next to her, the ambiance still buzzing with the aftermath of the dance. Wanda's friends had moved on to other entertainment, giving you both some privacy.

"I had no idea you worked here," Wanda began, trying to navigate the delicate conversation. "I mean, it's not something you'd normally share in class, but..."

You chuckled softly. "Yeah, it's definitely a part of my life I keep separate from my studies. It helps pay for school and other expenses."

Wanda nodded, appreciating your honesty. "I understand. It's just...I never expected to see you here."

"Likewise," you replied, your eyes meeting hers again. "But I have to admit, it's nice to see a familiar face, even in such an unexpected place."

The two of you talked for a while longer, the conversation flowing more easily as you shared stories and learned more about each other outside the confines of the classroom. Wanda was surprised at how comfortable she felt, the initial shock giving way to a genuine connection.

Eventually, you both realized it was getting late. Wanda's friends were starting to gather, signaling that it was time to head home.

"It was really nice talking to you, Wanda," you said, standing up and offering her a warm smile.

"Likewise," she replied, feeling a strange mix of emotions. "I hope to see you in class on Monday."

You nodded. "Definitely. And if you ever want to talk again, you know where to find me."

With that, Wanda rejoined her friends, who were eager to hear about her experience. As they left the club, Wanda couldn't help but reflect on the night's events, her thoughts lingering on you and the unexpected connection you had formed. She knew things might be different in class now, but she also felt a sense of excitement at the prospect of seeing you again, both as her student and as someone who had made a lasting impression on her.

============

The week went by in a blur for Wanda. Lectures, meetings, and grading papers filled her days, but there was a constant undercurrent of distraction whenever she thought of you. In class, the air was thick with an unspoken tension. Every time your eyes met hers, a blush crept up Wanda's face, and she found it hard to concentrate on her usual authoritative demeanor.

By the time Friday arrived, Wanda's curiosity and the inexplicable pull she felt toward you had grown too strong to ignore. That evening, she found herself back at the strip club, her heart pounding with anticipation. She paid for a private dance again, but this time, her intentions were different.

As you stepped into the room and saw her, a warm smile spread across your face. "You want another dance, Professor?" you asked, your tone playful.

Wanda hesitated, then shook her head. "No...well, yes, but not right now. I just wanted to talk for a bit, if that's okay?"

You sat down next to her on the couch, giving her your full attention. "Of course, Wanda. We can talk about anything you want."

The conversation started off tentatively, but as the minutes passed, Wanda found herself opening up more. She talked about her week, the pressures of academia, and even some personal anecdotes she wouldn't normally share with a student. You listened intently, your presence calming and reassuring.

As the night wore on, Wanda felt a sense of contentment she hadn't experienced in a long time. Before she left, you reached into your bra, pulling out a sharpie. You always kept one on you. You took her arm, holding it against your chest as you wrote down your number on her hand.

"I don't want you to have to pay if you just want to talk, Professor. You can call me up and maybe we can talk over coffee and when I'm in normal clothes, okay?" you said, you looked up at her.

Wanda stared at her hand, her heart racing. "Y-yeah, we can do that...um, I know you're working late tonight, so maybe tomorrow afternoon?"

You smiled, nodding. "Tomorrow afternoon sounds perfect. I'll look forward to it."

Wanda left the club that night with a flutter in her chest, clutching the piece of paper with your number like a lifeline. The boundaries she was crossing were clear, but the need to know more about you and the connection she felt was undeniable.

=================

Wanda arrived at the café a bit early, her nerves on edge. She chose a cozy corner table, away from the hustle and bustle, and ordered a cappuccino, hoping the warm drink would calm her jitters. The café had a quaint charm, with its mismatched furniture, local artwork on the walls, and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. She glanced at the door every few minutes, her anticipation growing with each passing second.

Finally, you walked in, immediately spotting her in the corner. You looked different from the night before, dressed casually in jeans and a soft, navy-blue sweater, your hair down and free. Wanda felt a wave of relief and excitement wash over her as you approached.

"Hey, Wanda," you greeted her with a warm smile.

"Hi," she replied, feeling her cheeks flush slightly. "Please, have a seat."

You sat down across from her, and for a moment, there was a comfortable silence as you both took in the shift from your last meeting's setting.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Wanda asked, trying to ease the initial awkwardness.

"Sure, I'll have a latte," you replied, and she flagged down a barista to place the order.

"So," you started, leaning forward slightly, "how was the rest of your night after the club?"

Wanda chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "It was uneventful compared to the start. I went home, did some reading, and tried to process everything."

"Understandable," you said with a nod. "I can imagine it was a lot to take in."

The barista brought over your latte, and you both took a moment to sip your drinks, the initial awkwardness beginning to fade.

"What about you?" Wanda asked, genuinely curious. "How was the rest of your night?"

"Pretty typical," you said with a shrug. "Worked until closing, then headed home. Nothing as interesting as our encounter, though."

Wanda smiled, feeling more at ease. "It's still a bit surreal, seeing you here, outside of the club and the classroom."

"Yeah, it is," you agreed, your eyes meeting hers. "But I like it. It's nice to talk to you in a different setting."

The conversation began to flow more naturally. You talked about your studies, your interests, and the challenges of balancing work and school. Wanda found herself opening up more about her life as well, sharing stories from her university days and her experiences as a professor.

"So, what made you decide to become a professor?" you asked, genuinely interested.

Wanda smiled thoughtfully. "I've always loved literature and teaching. There's something incredibly rewarding about helping students discover their own passion for it. Plus, it keeps me constantly learning and growing."

"That's really inspiring," you said, your admiration evident. "I can see why you're such a great professor."

Wanda blushed at the compliment, feeling a warmth spread through her. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."

The conversation took on a lighter tone as you both shared more personal anecdotes. Wanda found herself laughing more than she had in a long time, the tension and formality melting away.

"Do you have any hobbies outside of work and school?" Wanda asked, genuinely curious about your life beyond what she already knew.

"Well, I love dancing, obviously," you said with a grin. "But I also enjoy painting. It's a great way to relax and express myself."

"Really? I'd love to see some of your work sometime," Wanda said, intrigued.

"I'd like that," you replied, your smile widening. "What about you? Any hobbies?"

"I enjoy reading, of course, and gardening. There's something very therapeutic about taking care of plants," Wanda shared.

"I can see that," you said thoughtfully. "It sounds peaceful."

The afternoon flew by as you continued to talk, the initial nervousness long gone. There was a genuine connection between you, a chemistry that neither of you could deny.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow through the café windows, you realized how late it had gotten.

"I should probably get going," you said reluctantly. "I have a shift tonight."

Wanda nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment. "Of course. Thank you for meeting me. This was... really nice."

"It was," you agreed, standing up and gathering your things. "Let's do it again sometime."

"Absolutely," Wanda said, standing up as well. "I'll call you soon."

You exchanged one last smile before parting ways, both of you feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation for what lay ahead. The boundaries had been crossed, but what you had found was something real and promising, a connection that neither of you could ignore.

==========================

The weeks following your coffee shop date with Wanda were filled with subtle yet palpable tension. Each class was an exercise in restraint as you both tried to maintain a professional demeanor. Yet, every glance, every accidental touch, and every shared smile hinted at the underlying attraction that was growing stronger by the day.

One late afternoon, after most of the students had left, you found yourself lingering in the classroom, gathering your things. You needed to ask Wanda about an upcoming assignment, but the real reason you stayed behind was the undeniable urge to be close to her, even if just for a moment.

Wanda was at her desk, engrossed in grading papers. Her glasses perched on her nose, and a strand of hair fell across her face, which she absentmindedly pushed back. You approached her desk, your heart pounding.

"Professor Maximoff, could I ask you something about the assignment?" you asked, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

Wanda looked up, a warm smile spreading across her face when she saw you. "Of course, what do you need help with?"

You leaned over her desk, pointing to your notes, but as you explained your question, Wanda's focus began to drift. Her eyes traced the curve of your jaw, the way your hair framed your face, and the subtle scent of your perfume. She found herself entranced, her mind clouded with thoughts she struggled to keep at bay.

You noticed her distraction and paused, your eyes meeting hers. "Professor?"

Wanda blinked, snapping back to reality. "Sorry, I... I got distracted."

Before you could respond, she reached out and took your hand, her grip firm but gentle. The electricity between you was undeniable, and as if drawn by an invisible force, Wanda leaned forward, closing the distance between you.

In a heartbeat, her lips were on yours, soft and insistent. The kiss was filled with a mixture of longing and relief, as if you both had been holding back for far too long. You responded eagerly, your free hand cupping her cheek as the kiss deepened.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. Wanda's eyes were filled with a mix of fear and desire. "I know I'm your professor, but I can't stop thinking about you," she confessed, her voice trembling.

You searched her eyes, finding the same vulnerability mirrored in your own. "I can't either," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wanda took a deep breath, her hand still holding yours. "This is complicated. We both know that. But... I don't want to fight it anymore."

You nodded, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "Neither do I."

The air between you was thick with unspoken promises and a shared understanding of the risks involved. But in that moment, none of it seemed to matter. What mattered was the connection you had, the feelings you shared, and the undeniable chemistry that had brought you to this point.

======================

A few weeks had passed since that night at Wanda's apartment. The warmth and comfort of those moments now seemed like a distant memory. The reality of your relationship's complications began to weigh heavily on both of you, and the excitement of secrecy was gradually replaced by the fear of discovery.

It all came to a head one Thursday afternoon. You had stayed after class to ask Wanda about an upcoming project, but the atmosphere was different. There was a tension in the air, an unspoken strain that neither of you could ignore.

Wanda looked up from her desk as you approached, her eyes tired and filled with something you couldn't quite place. "What do you need help with?" she asked, her voice lacking its usual warmth.

You hesitated, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. "I wanted to discuss the project, but... is everything okay, Wanda?"

She sighed, removing her glasses and rubbing her temples. "Honestly? No, it's not. This... whatever this is between us, it's becoming too much. The hiding, the secrecy... I can't keep doing this."

Your heart sank. You had known this conversation was coming, but it didn't make it any easier. "I know it's hard, but we can figure it out. We just need to be careful."

"It's not just about being careful," Wanda said, her frustration evident. "I'm your professor. There's a power imbalance here, and if anyone finds out, it could ruin both our careers. I can't risk that. And I can't ask you to risk that either."

"But I don't care about the risks," you insisted, your voice breaking. "I care about you."

Wanda stood up, her expression conflicted. "I care about you too. More than I should. But that's exactly why we have to stop this. It's not fair to either of us."

You felt tears welling up in your eyes. "So, what are you saying? Are you ending this?"

"I don't want to," Wanda said, her voice softening. "But I think we have to. At least until the semester is over. Then maybe we can figure out where to go from there."

The room was silent except for the ticking of the clock. You could see the pain in Wanda's eyes, mirroring your own. "I understand," you said quietly, fighting back tears. "But it doesn't make it any less painful."

Wanda reached out, taking your hand in hers. "I'm sorry. This isn't what I wanted. But I think it's what's best for both of us right now."

You nodded, squeezing her hand one last time before letting go. "I should go," you said, your voice trembling. "I'll see you in class."

As you walked out of her office, the weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders. The once-bright future you had imagined with Wanda now seemed uncertain and distant. The days that followed were filled with a hollow ache, each class a reminder of what you had lost.

Wanda, too, felt the strain. Her lectures were more subdued, her smiles less frequent. The connection that had once brought you both so much joy now felt like a source of pain and regret.

Yet, amid the heartbreak, there was a glimmer of hope. The semester would eventually end, and with it, the constraints of your current roles. Until then, you both would have to navigate the difficult path ahead, holding onto the promise that perhaps, one day, things could be different.

====================

The days after Wanda broke things off were a blur of emptiness and despair. You found it increasingly difficult to muster the energy to attend classes, let alone participate. When you did manage to show up, your mind wandered, unable to focus on the lectures or assignments. Wanda's presence at the front of the classroom was a constant reminder of what you had lost, and it was unbearable.

Your grades began to slip, and the once-promising future you had envisioned seemed to crumble before your eyes. Your friends noticed the change in you, their concerned inquiries met with forced smiles and half-hearted reassurances. But the truth was, you were struggling to find a reason to keep going.

Your job at the club, once a place where you could escape and express yourself, became another source of frustration. Your boss, a stern but fair man named Tony, had been patient at first, giving you the benefit of the doubt. But as weeks passed and your performances grew lackluster, his patience wore thin.

One night, after another uninspired shift, Tony called you into his office. The room was dimly lit, the walls adorned with framed photos of past performances and performers. He sat behind his desk, his expression a mix of concern and frustration.

"Close the door," he said, his voice firm. You did as he asked, taking a seat across from him.

Tony leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "What's going on with you? You've been off your game for weeks now. Customers are noticing, and it's starting to affect business."

You looked down at your hands, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry, Tony. I've just been dealing with some personal stuff."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I get it. Everyone goes through tough times. But you need to snap out of it. You're a great dancer, and I've seen what you can do when you're at your best. But right now, you're not even close."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you blinked them away, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "I just... I don't see the point anymore."

Tony's expression softened, and he leaned back in his chair. "Life's going to throw a lot of crap your way, kid. But you can't let it break you. You have to find something to hold onto, something that makes it worth pushing through."

His words hit home, and you realized that you had been letting your grief consume you. You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "I'll try, Tony. I promise."

"That's all I'm asking," he said, offering a small, encouraging smile. "Take the weekend to clear your head. Come back Monday ready to give it your all."

You left his office feeling a mix of guilt and determination. The walk home was filled with a thousand thoughts racing through your mind, but one stood out above the rest: you needed to find a way to move forward.

Over the weekend, you forced yourself to confront your feelings head-on. You spent hours journaling, trying to make sense of the tangled emotions inside you. You reached out to friends, admitting that you were struggling and accepting their offers of support. Slowly, the fog of despair began to lift, and a sense of clarity emerged.

When Monday came, you walked into the club with a renewed sense of purpose. Tony gave you an approving nod as you prepared for your shift, and you felt a spark of hope ignite within you. The night went better than it had in weeks, and while it wasn't perfect, it was a step in the right direction.

In class, you made a conscious effort to engage, to focus on the material despite the pain of seeing Wanda. It wasn't easy, and there were moments when the hurt threatened to overwhelm you, but you pushed through, determined to reclaim some semblance of normalcy.

Wanda noticed the change in you, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and pride. She knew how difficult it was for you, and she respected the strength it took to keep going.

==========================

The semester was drawing to a close, but the weight of everything felt heavier than ever. You had done your best to keep pushing forward, but the cumulative stress and heartbreak had finally reached a breaking point. That night, after another rough shift at the club, you found yourself standing outside Wanda's apartment, drenched from the pouring rain. Without thinking, you pounded on her door, the desperate need for comfort overriding any lingering hesitation.

When Wanda opened the door, her eyes widened in shock at the sight of you. Your makeup was smeared from tears and rain, your hair plastered to your face, and your stage outfit clung to your soaked skin. Without a word, she pulled you inside, the warmth of her apartment a stark contrast to the cold outside.

"Come here," she said gently, guiding you towards the bathroom. Her voice was soft, filled with concern, as she grabbed a towel and began to dry you off. "Let's get you out of these clothes."

You didn't resist as she helped you out of your wet stage outfit, her touch tender and careful. Wanda filled the tub with hot water, and you sank into it, drawing your knees to your chest. The heat enveloped you, but it did little to ease the turmoil inside.

Wanda rolled up her sleeves and took a cloth, dipping it in the water before gently washing your back. "What happened, sweetie?" she asked softly, her voice filled with a mix of worry and tenderness.

Tears welled up again, and you struggled to find the words. "I just... I couldn't take it anymore. Everything feels so overwhelming. I feel like I'm drowning."

Wanda continued to wash your back, her movements slow and soothing. "It's okay," she murmured. "You're safe here. Take your time."

You took a shaky breath, the warmth of the bath and Wanda's presence slowly starting to calm you. "I miss you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've tried to move on, to focus on my classes and my job, but it's been so hard without you."

Wanda's hand paused for a moment before resuming its gentle strokes. "I miss you too," she confessed, her voice breaking slightly. "Every day has been a struggle, knowing that I hurt you and that we're both suffering because of this."

You turned your head to look at her, the vulnerability in her eyes mirroring your own. "I don't know what to do, Wanda. I feel so lost."

She put the cloth aside and leaned in, wrapping her arms around you from behind, her cheek resting against your wet hair. "We'll figure it out together," she said softly. "I don't have all the answers, but I know we can't keep going like this. Maybe we need to find a way to make this work, despite everything."

You closed your eyes, leaning into her embrace, the warmth of her body providing a comfort you had been desperately missing. "But how? The risks... they're still there."

"I know," Wanda replied, her voice steady but filled with emotion. "But maybe we can find a way to manage them. We don't have to have all the answers right now. We just need to take it one step at a time."

You nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope for the first time in weeks. "I want that. I want to be with you, no matter what it takes."

Wanda tightened her embrace, her lips brushing against your temple. "Then we'll find a way," she whispered. "We'll take it slow, be careful, and support each other. We don't have to face this alone."

The two of you stayed like that for a long time, the warmth of the bath and Wanda's comforting presence easing the pain that had been weighing on your heart.

After the bath, Wanda helped you into one of her shirts and a pair of soft shorts. The fabric was warm and comforting, carrying her familiar scent that enveloped you like a gentle hug. As you stood there, feeling the weight of the evening slowly lifting, Wanda led you to the living room.

She sat you down on the couch, then disappeared briefly into the kitchen, returning with two mugs of hot tea. Handing one to you, she settled beside you, her presence a reassuring anchor.

"Thank you," you murmured, wrapping your hands around the warm mug. The steam rising from the tea provided a soothing balm for your frazzled nerves.

Wanda smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You don't have to thank me. I care about you, and I hate seeing you like this."

You took a sip of the tea, letting its warmth seep into you. "It's just been so hard. Everything feels like it's falling apart."

Wanda reached out, taking your hand in hers. "I know. I’m sorry that it had to be like this. It truly was the last thing I wanted."

Her words brought a lump to your throat. "It just feels like…I don’t even know…I’ve never felt like this before."

Wanda squeezed your hand gently. "Then we take it one day at a time. We support each other, and we figure it out as we go. It's not going to be easy, but I believe we can make it work."

You looked into her eyes, finding a strength there that you desperately needed. "I want to believe that too," you whispered. "I want to be with you, no matter what."

Wanda leaned in, her forehead resting against yours. "We'll get through this. I know we will darling."

The two of you sat there in silence for a while, the steady rhythm of your breaths synchronizing. The pain and uncertainty were still there, but they felt more manageable with Wanda by your side.

You checked your phone looking at the time it was already three in the morning.

Eventually, she pulled away slightly, her eyes searching yours. "Why don't we watch something? Distract ourselves for a bit."

You nodded, grateful for the distraction. "Okay. What do you have in mind?"

Wanda smiled, reaching for the remote. "How about we start with an episode of Bob's Burgers? I did promise, after all."

You couldn't help but laugh, a genuine smile breaking through the lingering sadness. "I'd like that."

She turned on the TV, and as the familiar opening theme of Bob's Burgers filled the room, you shifted with her until you were laying on top of her, feeling a sense of peace you hadn't felt in weeks. She pulled a blanket over the two of you.

As the episode played, you found yourself laughing along with the antics of the Belcher family. Wanda's arm around you and the warmth of her presence made everything feel a little bit better. The future was still uncertain, but in that moment, you knew you had someone who cared about you deeply, someone who was willing to face the challenges with you.

And for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope that things could get better. One step at a time, with Wanda by your side.

========================

One year later, your life looked completely different. The hardships and uncertainties of the past had given way to a future filled with promise and happiness. You and Wanda had navigated through the complexities of your relationship, emerging stronger and more connected than ever.

The apartment you shared was a cozy, vibrant space that reflected both of your personalities. The walls were adorned with a mix of Wanda's favorite vintage posters and your collection of quirky art. Plants thrived in every corner, adding a touch of nature to your urban sanctuary. The smell of fresh coffee and Wanda's homemade pastries often filled the air, creating an atmosphere of warmth and comfort.

It was a Saturday morning, and the sun streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow over the living room. You were curled up on the couch, a stack of textbooks and notes spread out before you as you prepared for your final exams. Wanda was in the kitchen, humming softly as she prepared breakfast.

"How's the studying going?" Wanda called out, her voice cheerful and light.

You looked up from your notes, smiling. "It's going well. Just a few more chapters to review, and I think I'll be ready."

Wanda appeared in the doorway, a plate of pancakes in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. She set them down on the coffee table in front of you, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "I know you'll do great. You've worked so hard."

"Thanks," you said, feeling a warmth spread through you at her words. "I couldn't have done it without you."

She sat down beside you, her hand finding yours. "We've come a long way, haven't we?"

You nodded, squeezing her hand. "We really have. It's hard to believe how different things are now."

Wanda smiled, her eyes filled with love and pride. "I'm so proud of you. You're about to graduate, and you've accomplished so much. And I'm so happy we took a chance on us."

Your heart swelled with emotion as you looked at her. "Me too. I can't imagine my life without you."

=================

The months leading up to your graduation were a whirlwind of activity and excitement. Wanda was there every step of the way, supporting you through the stress of final exams and celebrating each milestone with you. You both balanced your lives between work, study, and nurturing your relationship, finding joy in the little moments you shared.

Graduation day arrived, and the sense of accomplishment and joy was overwhelming. Dressed in your cap and gown, you stood in the crowd of graduates, scanning the audience for Wanda. When your name was called, and you walked across the stage to receive your diploma, the cheers and applause seemed to fade into the background as you locked eyes with her, her smile brighter than ever.

After the ceremony, you found her waiting for you, a bouquet of flowers in her hands. "Congratulations, graduate," she said, her voice choked with emotion.

You took the flowers, pulling her into a tight embrace. "We did it," you whispered, feeling tears of happiness welling up.

Wanda pulled back slightly, her hands cupping your face. "You did it. And I'm so incredibly proud of you."

The celebration continued into the evening, with friends and family joining you both for a party at your apartment. Laughter and music filled the air, and as the night wore on, you found yourself standing on the balcony with Wanda, the city lights twinkling below.

"It's been quite a journey," you said, leaning against the railing, Wanda's arms wrapped around you from behind.

"It has," she agreed, resting her chin on your shoulder. "And it's just the beginning. We have so much ahead of us."

You turned to face her, your eyes filled with love and gratitude. "I can't wait to see what the future holds, as long as I'm with you."

Wanda smiled, her eyes shining with the same love and commitment. "Me too. Here's to our future, together."

#ley answers anons #ley writes #ley writes requests #ley writes one shots #wanda maximoff #professor!au #professor!wanda maximoff #student!reader #stripper!reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximimoff angst #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader

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cxrdycxps · 5 months ago

Text

Pillow Talk • Joel Miller

☢️ Smut • p in v • unprotected • f!reader • no y/n ☢️

Main Masterlist • Joel Miller Masterlist

It didn’t happen every time you both slept together. Hell, sometimes it was a quick fumble in the stables or some messing around in the bathroom of the Tipsy Bison.

This thing wasn’t serious between you both. He needed the stress relief and you were happy enough to give him some.

“Most of the time I just miss football.” He laughed, careful not to jostle your head where it lay against his broad chest.

He had just rendered you speechless after a night at the Tipsy Bison and now all he wanted to do was talk about what he missed.

“I miss fruity shower gels and shampoo that made my hair smell like coconut.” You whispered quietly and he nodded slowly, another chuckle reverberating in his chest.

You ran your hand over his stomach, a little soft even with the layer of hard muscle under. He was just so big, it made your mouth water from across the room.

Every time you caught a glance of those shoulders you got flashes of your legs being thrown over them while he ate you out like a starved man.

Every time he ditched the flannel so you could watch his biceps flex against his t-shirt all you could picture was the strain in them when he fucked you against the wall.

The stretch of his thighs against his jeans reminded you of the times where you hadn’t even made it up the stairs, rutting against his leg like a damned dog.

The sex was phenomenal. No matter how often or how sparse it was. It always shook you to your core.

The added benefit of sleepy pillow talk was always nice. Sometimes he talked about life before, sometimes he talked about how life had turned out. He didn’t often discuss the last twenty years.

“I miss celebrating my birthday. I’d spend the day of my birthday working or whatever. Then Sarah and I would do something. Then Tommy and I would hit the strip club at the weekend.” Joel shook his head with a sigh but you finally raised yours. “It all seems so stupid now. But we had been doing it since we were barely legal enough to get into a strip club.”

“There’s a million things to miss and you miss a woman shaking her ass for you to toss a few dollars to.” You teased and he rolled his eyes. “Tell me, did you have a favorite? Do you miss her?”

“Yeah, you know what? I did have a favorite, pretty little thing. She could shake her ass like it was no one’s business. Used to book her privately too.” Joel had no shame despite you trying to embarrass him and you could only laugh at him, propping your head up on your elbow to watch him.

“Well Mr. Miller, I know in this town we don’t celebrate your birthday. Mourning and all that. But if you’re really lucky, I might get you a present.” You winked at him as you slipped from the bed, grabbing for your clothes. Your sister would no doubt be wondering where you had disappeared to.

“Oh yeah, what’s that then?” He asked, turning his head to look at you as you pulled your jeans on.

“Well, when the world went to shit I used to be one of those pretty young things. And your favorite girl might have been able to shake her ass with the best of ‘em, but I’ll show you how a professional does it.” You promised, buttoning your blouse.

Joel watched you for a few seconds, his mouth agape before he reached a hand out, lightning quick despite his age. He dragged you back to the bed, pinning you under him and you were surprised to find him pressed against you.

“I ain’t got that hard that quick since I was in my twenties.” Joel grunted, working your jeans back down past your hips.

He didn’t take them off, pinning your wrists above your head and lining himself up with the other hand to slam into you with minimal warning.

You groaned loudly, arching your hips towards him as he fucked into you, one goal in mind. “Gonna shake your ass for me? Think you would’ve let me pay you for a private show? Course you would, my fucking girl.”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. It felt like he was filling you all the way. Like you could feel him taking up space in your air way. You could barely do more than arch your hips with how he had you pinned but you didn’t need to do anything else. Just let him fuck you.

You had had angry sex with Joel. You had been fucked, you had been romanced, you had done it all. But this? This hard and fast and brutal pace? This had to be your favorite. He had barely started and already you were sprung tight, ready to explode.

“Joel, I’m gonna-“

“Yeah, you fucking are. Gonna come all over me, I need it baby. Gonna take you in doggy next, see that ass bounce for me. Fucking knew you’d be able to dance. Knew that first day I saw you.” He grunted, fucking into you hard and fast. “Better find some lace baby, I want the whole fucking show.”

You couldn’t reply, throwing your head back and moaning loudly as you came and he continued to pound into you. He pulled out before he was finished and before you could complain you were flipped onto your stomach.

“Hands and knees, let’s see what those hips can do.” A rough smack against your ass had your scrambling to comply, knowing you wouldn’t be making it home tonight.

#joel miller #the last of us #soft joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #stripper!reader

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slytherinsrule89 · 7 months ago

Note

Mattheo x stripper reader please🫠

It's going to be really hot when Matteo hires you to dance for him, and he ends up falling in love with you 😏

Okay I was actually so excited when I saw this one because damnnn. I just love it. Here you go lovely 🥰

Smut ahead ⚠️ Beaware

Mattheo had been coming to the same strip club for a while now. He enjoyed the music, decoration, and the drinks as well.

But his favourite thing about the place was you. You were of course a stripper there, the absolute best in his mind.

The way your body moved kept him in a trance that he didn’t even want to get out of.

He knew your schedule inside and out just so that whenever he came he could see your beautiful body swaying and grinding to the beat.

You enjoyed every bit of his company too. Mattheo was respectful, paid well, and boy was he good looking.

You were used to most older guys coming in and making comments, you knew that came with the job.

But it was certainly refreshing to see someone like him walk in just to see you.

Today was just like any other shift, it was a Friday night and quite busy but you were getting tired for sure.

Sitting in one of the break rooms having a drink of water your manager comes in telling you someone hired you to dance in one of the private rooms.

You sighed as your break was cut off but got up anyway and checked your makeup heading to the room.

A fake smile made its way on your face hoping that you’d get better tips because of it, and most times you were right.

When you open the door of the nearest private room, your insides boil with excitement seeing who it was who hired you.

“Hello Mr. Riddle.” You spoke seductively with that knowing smirk stretched across your face.

“Good evening gorgeous, here to give me a show?” He was cheeky and he knew it, but it was something you grew to enjoy.

The smirk stayed on your face as the music played and you walked up to the pole gliding your hands on it.

He sat watchfully on the chair in front of you. Drink in hand, his eyes never leaving his prey.

It wasn’t long before he beckoned you over to stand in front of you. And just as he was about to hold your hips you stopped him.

“You remember the rules don’t you? That costs extra.” The cockiness in your voice made him chuckle before he nodded to the corner of the room.

You curiously looked over before your eyes widened at the bag full of way more money than you’ve ever seen in your lifetime. And that says a lot.

Before you could say anything he pulled you forward, onto his lap. “That’s all yours princess, just as long you promise to give me your best.”

You have never agreed to anything as fast as you just did.

It wasn’t long before you were dancing on his lap, just like he asked, giving it your best. I held back small noises as you began to feel him grow underneath you.

“Such a pretty girl you are huh? Always flaunting that body of yours around, wish I could just keep it all to myself.”

He had been saying those types of things all night. You were surprised that he didn’t feel how sopping wet he made you just by his words.

Mattheo’s hands trailed their way down your waist before gripping your hips, stopping all your movements. Your tits were practically in his face, the lingerie set you were wearing not covering much.

“You're gonna be a good girl and ride me sweetheart? Bet you're so wet for me already aren’t you?”

Your knees would’ve buckled if you weren’t already sitting down on his lap, but you nodded quickly wanting nothing more at the moment.

“I need the words princess.” “Please let me ride you.”

Satisfied at your answer he tapped your hip signaling you to stand up for a moment. As you did his fingers came down to his belt, smoothly unbuckling it and slipping it off.

“Do the rest for me, will you, princess?” You walked over unzipping his pants almost drooling at the outline of his cock.

He raised his hips allowing you to pull down both his pants and boxers. You knew he’d be big but damn. That was a lot more than you’d expected.

Mattheo noticed your reaction and chuckled. “You think you can handle me? Gonna ruin that pretty cunt aren’t I?” He took my jaw in hand as he spoke with that pantie dropping smirk on his face.

Before you knew it he had picked you up, placing you right back on his lap and moving the lace at your core to the side.

His tip teasing your folds and clit, having to beg for him to put it in.

“Matty please, I wan-“ You were cut off by Mattheo shoving every inch into you without warning. A loud moan ripping from the bottom of your throat as he did so.

“Come on pretty slut, ride my cock like the hood girl you are.”

Doing as you’re told you lifted yourself up before slowly pushing back down, your head tipping back.

Soon you had a quick rhythm going that had you and a moaning and whimpering mess in his lap. Your eyes rolled back at the sound of a deep groan that left him.

“Good girl, just like that. You can go faster right?” Wanting to please him you did exactly that and started bouncing faster on him.

It started becoming a bit uneven as you chased your high, getting desperate for more.

“Mmm good good, come on princess cum on my cock, come on give it to me.”

His words sent you over the edge, moaning out his name as your pussy clenched around him.

Mattheo pulled out, stroking his cock a few times before his cum spurted all over your stomach and tits.

“Good girl, so pretty aren’t you? Just covered in all my cum. You’re mine. All mine.” Your brain to fucked out to answer nodded right away agreeing to probably anything he’d ask.

Hope you enjoy :)

#slytherin boys #slytherin #:) <33 #answered asks #anon ask #smut #mattheo riddle #mattheo x y/n #mattheoxreader #stripper!reader #mattheo smut

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gurugirl · 2 years ago

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The Scientist & the Stripper | Jealous

Summary: Harry finally comes to visit you at work - and just as you suspected, he gets a little jealous (nerd scientist!harry x stripper!y/n)

A/n: As requested - another check in with our odd couple! I would recommend reading THIS first. 4.4k words

Warning: 18+ only, smut, spanking, jealousy

❖❖❖

You’d given up on having Harry come to see you at work. You understood why he didn’t want to go. You knew he could be a bit jealous. The very first night you met him you saw it when he confronted Dale and then took you away from him at your party. So, if he reacted that way with Dale you could only imagine his reaction to a bunch of men ogling you while you danced half-naked for their money.

You’d been official with him for a few months now and seeing him for nearly 6. Harry was by far the best boyfriend you’d ever had. It surprised you too. When you first slept with him you didn’t think that it would really work in the long run. Not that you didn’t think he was great, but he was very inexperienced and most men weren’t able to deal with your job. Being a stripper meant the pool of men who would consider getting serious with you was limited. And a man who’d never even had sex before? You didn’t think Harry was in that pool. But he was.

He kept coming around and you kept daydreaming about him. Because even though he was a virgin when you first slept with him, he was really really good and he was very sweet. Not the overbearing annoying kind of sweet that you hated. The right in the middle, thoughtful and practical kind of sweet.

And he was a great listener too. Harry loved being taught new things and you didn’t mind teaching him. Because he was a fast learner and he remembered all of your little pointers to the T. He even did his own research apart from you. Harry’s curious, scientist’s mind was always digging into information and learning as much as he could about any subject he found interesting. And he found sex interesting. Obviously. So he learned things you hadn’t even considered teaching him. And he used his new knowledge on you with excitement.

But apart from the sex, Harry was just an overall great guy. He wasn’t a big talker but if he knew about anything being discussed he would give his input and it always amazed you at how smart he was. When you’d have him around your friends he wasn’t shy per se, more so just reserved. He liked to hear what others said and take note. Your friends got used to him. They wound up really liking him. He wasn’t annoying and he didn’t act like a know-it-all. He fit in pretty well.

And Harry had a handful of friends too. He knew them all from the University. They were nice and smart and you liked them all. But Harry was special. You appreciated him so much. You loved that he had his own thing going on and that he wasn’t obsessed with what you were doing when you were working (he knew what you were doing but he didn’t dwell on it).

The last guy you dated was always waiting for you after your shift and making sure you weren’t doing anything he didn’t like. He didn’t trust you. And you always thought you’d have to prove to whomever you dated that you could be trusted. But you never had to do that with Harry. He trusted you. Completely. But he was quite jealous. Territorial. Which was why he always declined in coming to see you at the club. Because he knew you were his and he trusted you, but he didn’t like it when others looked at you or made comments about you. He might have been reserved but he didn’t have any issues being upfront and confrontational when needed.

And you knew this because it happened occasionally. Even when it might not have been a big deal, Harry didn’t like anyone looking at you or trying anything funny. Like when you and Harry went to the North Avenue beach on a warm sunny Saturday. You were in your bikini and laying on a towel while Harry was reading next to you in his swim shorts and a t-shirt.

A guy a few feet away kept looking at you but you didn’t notice because you were napping and had your eyes closed. But then you heard Harry’s voice.

“That’s enough, mate.”

You lifted your head to look up at Harry and saw him looking over you at someone else. You turned and cupped your eyes from the sun to look at the other person and it was a man not far away. He looked from Harry to you and shrugged and then back toward to lake without responding.

And to be honest. You quite liked how Harry was a bit territorial. He was also a little bit intimidating with his height and build so most of the time he was met with little resistance or pushback from anyone he told off.

So when you spotted him on Friday night at Star Room you were surprised. You didn’t know he was planning to visit. You weren’t on stage when you spotted him, luckily, or it might have fucked up your whole routine.

“Sadie, I’ll be right back! My boyfriend’s out there!” You said as you ran out of the dressing room.

Harry spotted you coming from the doorway that led to the fitting rooms behind the stage and he sat up straight smiling at you.

“Baby! What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d just come to check it out. Got my work done and I missed you.”

You usually slept over at his or him at yours but for the past couple of nights, it just didn’t work out. You took a shift on Thursday night and on Wednesday Harry was gone all day at the lab and didn’t come back til late. Your schedules clashed a bit for the last few days so it was nice to see his handsome face.

You sat next to him and kissed his cheek, “I can’t stay here long because I’m going up soon but thank you for coming! Will you stay til I’m off?”

Harry nodded and kissed you in return, “Sure.”

Your routine was sexy. You killed it as usual. And with Harry in the crowd, you really put on a show for him. It was also Friday night and there was a bachelor party in attendance. They were all in the front row and being quite obnoxious but you kept your eyes on Harry.

When your little dress came off and your tits were on show for everyone you watched him tense up as he looked at the men in front of you who were shouting and leaning on the stage throwing cash at your feet.

You still had a job to do so you danced for the ones who gave you the most and squatted in front of them. You pressed your heel into the short guy's cheek as he started to climb up onto the stage when he asked you to marry him. You shook your head and laughed. It was actually a pretty normal Friday night. But you didn’t want them climbing onto the stage. Security usually took care of that for you but as part of your fun show, you gently pushed him away, which the short guy absolutely loved as he threw another wad of cash down for you.

You stood up and moved your hips and walked to the other side of the stage and shook your ass, bending down in front of the men. More cash. More whistles.

When you’d made your rounds and hit all the sides of the stage you noticed Harry wasn’t sitting anymore. He was standing up straight and watching the short guy from earlier. You continued moving your hips and smiling as you looked toward the short guy and realized he was leaning on the stage again. He was saying something you couldn’t hear from where you were but it looked like Harry could hear it and he wasn’t very happy about it.

You looked over at security and they were nearby making sure no one was doing anything they shouldn’t. The short guy wasn’t being that crazy but leaning on the stage was where they usually drew the line. Any more and he’d be escorted out.

The moment your bit was over you scooped up your cash, crawling around on the floor and making a show of it (as usual) when the short guy waved at you and motioned for you to come near.

You looked over at Harry and he was looking at the man with narrowed eyes. You faced the short guy and nodded, “What is it, honey?”

“I’m getting married tomorrow but I think I’m in love with you!” He was laughing with a big smile as he spoke it. You knew it was all in fun. The guy was a bit tipsy and he was obnoxious but he wasn’t doing anything that bad. You’d seen worse.

“I’m sure your fiancé would love to hear that!” You spoke as you stood up with all the cash in hand. But when you stood up you realized Harry was making his way to the front. Toward the short guy.

You quickly left the stage and ran to the dressing room to put your cash away and slip a robe on so you could intervene if needed. Harry was about to tell that guy to buzz off and you didn’t need any altercations.

Harry had never gotten into a fight over you but he didn’t back down either.

By the time you were on the floor and making your way to Harry you realized the two were in a heated discussion and Harry was towering over the guy and calmly telling him to fuck off. But of course, the short guy was drinking and his temperament wasn’t as calm as Harry’s.

You heard bits and pieces of their argument as you got closer, “Dude… your girlfriend is a stripper what do you expect?”

Harry responded but his voice was lower and you couldn’t hear him.

“Man, I’m just having fun here! She had her tits out and she was flirting with me…” you heard him say but the music came on for the next dancer and you couldn’t hear the rest.

You grasped Harry’s arm and looked up at him, “Harry!”

Harry looked down at you and his face softened when he saw you, “I’m sorry. He’s being disrespectful.”

You looked toward the short man, who was only a couple of inches taller than you and the gross smile on his face had your skin crawling. He said something but you couldn’t hear his words over the loud song playing on the speakers.

He reached out to touch your arm but Harry pulled you behind him and pushed the guy away, “Back the fuck off.”

With that Harry turned and moved you away and through the crowd that had gathered toward where the entry to the dressing rooms were.

“Harry, you have to remember this is what happens here. The men tend to be disrespectful. I just ignore them once my routine is over,” you grabbed his collar and made him bend down so you could speak into his ear.

Harry put his arms around you and pulled you into his chest and responded, “I know. But he said he was gonna have you do a private lap dance for him and I don’t like him. I don’t want him touching you.”

You chuckled and smiled, “Harry, it’s part of the job. And I wouldn’t have done a lap dance for him because he’s been a bit too rowdy. I get to choose whom I do a lap dance for. Plus it’s almost closing time. No private dances are allowed now anyway.”

Reluctantly, Harry let you go when you told him you needed to clean up and change. He said he’d be waiting for you where he was sitting originally.

You wiped your makeup off and pulled your hair into a ponytail when Tonya sat down next to you to remove her own makeup, “Is that tall man with glasses out there yours?” You heard her ask you as she continued wiping at her makeup, never looking at you through the mirror.

You smiled and nodded, “Yes. He’s my boyfriend.”

She hummed and this time she made eye contact with you in the mirror, “He’s almost prettier than you. Better keep an eye on him, though. Candy was over there with him just now.”

You laughed and shook your head, “Typical, Candy.”

When you said your goodbyes to the girls you slung your gym bag over your shoulder and walked out into the main room. Sure enough, Candy was still with Harry. She hadn’t changed out of her outfit and she was laughing about something. Which had you rolling your eyes. The girl was ruthless.

“Hi babe,” you spoke as you leaned down to kiss Harry’s cheek.

He quickly stood up and took your hand in his as he turned to Candy, “Told you.”

Candy just winked at you and then looked back to Harry, “Baby, of course, you’re taken. You’re too fucking fine to be single. Take care of this one, Y/n., Jesus he’s gorgeous,” she said as she eyed Harry once more before turning and walking to the dressing rooms.

“I’m sorry. She just started hitting on me. I told her you were my girlfriend over and over,”

You reached up to pull him down and kissed his mouth. He was overthinking again.

You pulled away from the kiss with a smile as you pulled Harry with you toward the exit, “I know, Harry. Don’t worry. Candy’s like that with any attractive man.”

You and Harry were in separate cars and the lot was full when Harry arrived so he was parked a bit away from where you were.

He walked you to your car and then you saw the short guy with a few of his friends. They appeared to be waiting for a taxi. Which might have been the smartest move the short guy had made all night.

He waved at you and then flipped Harry off, all in jest, of course, that much you could tell. But Harry didn’t get that memo.

“Hey!” He shouted as he turned toward the man. He began to walk in the direction of the rowdy group, for what purpose you couldn’t be sure. But you’d never seen him get so riled up before.

“Harry! Stop!” You shouted and jogged toward him, grabbing his arm, “Leave it. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you. He knows we’re together. Don’t play into it.”

Harry looked down at you and clenched his jaw before looking back toward the man, “She’s coming home with me. Get lost!”

You chuckled and pulled at Harry’s arm, “Let’s go home.”

When you both arrived in your separate cars and got into the elevator you realized Harry was still fuming from the guy. You put your hand inside his and looked up at him, “Hey… it’s fine, Harry. You trust me, don’t you?”

Harry’s eyes widened and his features relaxed, “Oh my god. Yes! It’s not you that makes me upset. I just think people should respect boundaries and he was rude and I didn’t like that.”

When the elevator stopped at your floor you both got off and Harry kept your hand in his, “Come to mine,” he said.

You smiled, “Sure.”

The moment you got into his condo Harry locked the door and put his arms around you and tucked his face into your neck, “Go get on the bed.”

You gulped in surprise a little at his demand. He normally asked or suggested. Sometimes he could be a bit dominant but it usually was during the act when he’d already lost himself in lust a bit.

You bit your lip and nodded as you made your way to his room and climbed onto his bed.

Harry joined you in his room a few minutes later, carrying a glass of water which he placed on the bedside table.

He looked at you, his face set stoically as he pulled his shirt off over his head. He crawled onto the bed and his strong chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths. He took your wrists in his hands and pinned you down and began kissing your neck and then up to your jaw, sucking small bruises onto your skin, “You’re mine. Everyone should know this…” he mumbled into your neck.

You gasped at his primal act and felt your body flush with desire. Harry sat up and looked down at the bruises he’d left and smiled, releasing your wrists and then he pulled at you so you were sitting up. He removed your shirt and then unclipped your bra, quickly pulling the material from your breasts before nudging you back down. His mouth covered your nipples and licked at your soft skin before he began sucking more bruises onto the flesh of your tits.

“Harry!” you panted at the feel of him sucking on your skin. It hurt a little but you wouldn’t stop him. You’d never seen him so jealous or territorial or whatever this was. Moving his mouth to your other nipple he looked up at you and sucked hard again, more bruises on your flesh and you keened already feeling your panties getting messy.

Harry knelt above you and kneaded at your tits, observing the work of his hands on your plush skin.

“Harry…” you put your hand up to his chest and felt his warm skin under your palm. He looked up at you and gently put your hand into his and began kissing the underside of your wrist, “I just want everyone to know you’re not up for grabs. You’re only mine.”

He let go of your wrist and lowered himself until his lips were kissing at your ribs and lowering until he got to your belly button. He put his fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants and pulled them down fast, the material flying across the room.

He looked down between your legs, pushed your thighs apart, kissed over the fabric of your panties, and made a sound that was awfully similar to a growl. He nosed at your crotch and squeezed at your thighs and then your hips before pushing himself up again to pull your panties off.

He added more bruises to the insides of your thighs and you brushed his hair from his forehead as you watched him in awe. He licked and sucked the soft meat until he finally put you out of your misery and covered your pussy with his big mouth.

Harry’s skill in cunnilingus had only improved. And you learned he loved being praised when he did well. And as a perfectionist who loved being the best at what he did, well… one can just imagine.

You were grasping the sheets and panting when your quaking thighs began to pull closed around Harry’s head. You hadn’t even realized you’d done it until you felt him smack your thigh and he sat back onto his bent legs.

You dropped your mouth open in shock. He’d never smacked your thigh before. He’d tested the waters a few times with a bit of a swat to your bottom, but a full-on palm smack? And he did it in response to you closing your thighs around him. You knew him to be a little dominant but this was new territory.

Harry kept his eyes on yours as he pulled his pants down his legs, “Wish that asshole could hear the way I make you moan when I fuck you,” he spoke as he squared his hips into yours, your legs wrapping around his low back as he settled over you.

“Well if he’s a neighbor then he probably has,” you teased in a giggle. You could be a little loud at times. Not every time you had sex, just when he went especially hard and you had a feeling he was about to rail you.

Harry smirked and then grabbed your left thigh, pulling it down from his back and urging it up toward your chest, then repeated with your other til your knees were being pushed into your body, held in place by his left hand. He sat up as he swiped a finger up your slit before he grasped his cock with his free hand and pressed it through your crease, bumping at your clit and then lowering to just push the tip past your entrance, “You get so wet for me…” another smack to your thigh and you gasped in shock again.

“I think you like that don’t you?” He swatted closer to your bottom as he gripped your shins with his hand to keep you in place.

“Oh my god, Harry! Yes!”

His smirk turned into a genuine smile when he scooted in closer to you, “Good. Because I do too,” he popped your other thigh and then pressed his thick cock into your pussy making you cry out.

Harry keened at the feel of you around him but he gave little pause before he began to sink into you until he was coated by your warm, wet walls.

When his hips began to buck into you he looked down to where his cock was disappearing into your body. Your body lurched under his pounding, his hips smacking into you as he fucked you into the mattress.

Tears began to leak from your eyes as you panted under the pressure, “F-fuck!” was all you seemed to be able to squeak out.

Harry let go of the front of your shins and your feet hit the mattress as he pulled out and leaned over you, pressing his mouth over yours and licking at your lips, “Roll over to your tummy,” he instructed with a murmur against your lips.

Once you were tummy down Harry swatted your bum again, this time feeling the satisfaction of your soft bottom under his palm. He grasped your hips and pulled your ass upward and smacked at your other cheek, causing a yelp to fall from your mouth, “Fuck look at you…” Harry groaned.

With his hands squeezing at your bottom you suddenly felt his tongue on your asshole and that had you losing all composure. Harry kissed over your bottom and sucked at your skin and then sat back with another groan, “I have to get a condom. Fuck I want to come inside your little cunt so bad. Knock you up and show everyone they don’t get to even look at you…”

Your heart was racing in your chest at his words but he did get up to get a condom. Even if it was reluctantly. You’d both discussed having you go on the pill but you’d had so many bad experiences using birth control that you’d given up and Harry seemed happy to continue using condoms. But this was the first time he’d ever said something to the contrary. It was also the first time he’d ever said that.

You pushed yourself up to see him and when he returned to the bed he gave you a pointed look, which had you stuffing your face back into the comforter and arching your back with your ass in the air.

Harry kneed up behind you and put his palms over your cheeks again, spreading them apart before you felt his cock nudging into you, slowly splitting you apart, “So fucking good…” Harry panted.

Soon the bed was creaking and your lungs were getting a good workout as he fucked himself into you at a rough and desperate pace.

You couldn’t lie and say there wasn’t a pinch or the slightest sting of pain from how he worked himself into and dipped deep into your tummy. But it was yummy and every time his hand landed on your thigh or your bottom you jumped and then moaned with a shattered breath.

“Fuck…” Harry sputtered out when his motions slowed but he began grinding into you so deep, barely pulling himself out anymore. He leaned over your back and his lips met the curve of your neck after he took your hair into his fingers and lifted your head upward for his access.

“Harry, please! Oh mmmmmmhh!!”

“And the way you say my name when my dick is deep inside of you…” he rasped into your ear.

Harry rolled his hips languidly, his cock stuffed into the hilt. Your thighs were quivering once again, you were so close to falling apart. You moved your hand between your legs and began to rub your fingers on your clit and you whimpered at the feeling of your button being rubbed while Harry was deeply fucking you and filling your insides with his length.

Your jaw dropped open as you pleaded for him with your body, pushing back onto him as you choked out sobs of ecstasy.

Harry kept his mouth at your neck and his hand in your hair as he leaned over you, his cock submerged deep, “I know you like this… like my cock don’t you?”

You nodded your head and mumbled a yes as you gasped, your orgasm making your body vibrate as you dissolved in pleasure.

Harry was right behind you. His own voice came out a bit louder than normal as he felt you spasm around him, hot come filling his condom as he pushed into you impossibly deep until you both collapsed on the bed together Harry rolled you both to your sides so he didn’t crush you.

You closed your eyes and sighed and Harry squeezed you close and pressed his nose into the side of your neck

“Mmmm… so good,” you heard Harry whisper, his lips brushing against your neck.

You nodded your head and smiled, “So good.”

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madelynraemunson · 9 months ago

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CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 018: Murphy's Law

You’re only against a handful of things. Of course, the one time you go to bed angry, shit hits the fan.

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

* = somewhat smutty chapters ** = smut chapters

author's note: 2/23/2024 — i don't want you guys to suffer too much, so the last two chapters will be released tomorrow 2/24/2024. i love you guys, thank you for tuning in ♥️

CW: i don't wanna spoil anything, so this whole chapter is a trigger warning. please be mindful of this before reading; ps thank you to @freckledjoes for letting me use this picture of barron/"steve"

word count: 1.3k words

♡

“I’m Natalia, who are you?”

“I’m...Shy Girl,” you narrow your eyes. “My boyfriend Eddie lives here.”

You've never been good at math. But it doesn't take putting 2 and 2 together to realize that — the car in Eddie's spot this morning — belongs to the Nancy look-alike in front of you.

And if you looked too fast, you would've thought that she WAS Nancy. But the strapless tube top, lettuce-trim booty shorts, and lacy black tights on a cold December morning rule out that possibility.

Your eyes trail over to Steve in the background, frantic and sweaty, hairy chest out on display as he shuffles around to find a shirt to throw on. You clear your throat, meeting Natalia’s blue eyes one more time before speaking again.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Oh no girl, you're fine!" the busty brunette chirps, when she realizes you're no longer a threat to her. "I was just heading out. I guess his roomie is going to be back any second now."

Doing your best to conceal your laughter, you step off to the side to allow Steve's booty call to get her things and scoot out the door. Steve watches awkwardly, leaning against the doorway and flashing Natalia a smile as he watches her get to her car safely.

You wait until she’s out of earshot to speak to him.

“Natalia.” you sing with a smirk. “Really?”

“Don’t make that face.”

“What face?”

“The one you’re making right now, Hargrove. Don’t start.”

Your eyes venture down to the faint bite marks on Steve’s neck. You turn around to look at the doppelgänger one last time, giving her a wave as she drives away.

“Not starting anything,” you insist. “I just think it’s funny.”

He knows what you’re thinking and it doesn’t help his case. Steve steps off to the side, inviting you in. After closing the door behind you, Harrington gestures towards the box in your hand.

“Whatchu got there?”

“Apology cupcakes for Eddie,” you explain. “I was a real bitch to him yesterday so I decided to bake him something to compensate.”

You spent all night guilt-baking, hoping to win Eddie back with the cute vanilla cupcakes topped with sad red frowns on them, followed by a homemade card that reads, "I'm sorry for pushing you against the wall". Expecting Steve to find it adorable, he offers you a rather confused reaction instead.

"…Eddie didn’t stay over last night?” he asks with a cocked brow.

Your heart sinks.

“No… I thought he came straight here after Wayne’s.”

“Well obviously he didn’t,” Steve says. “Hence why I had Nat spend the night.”

“Well do you think he’s at Dustin’s?”

“I’m not sure, I haven’t spoken to the guy since yesterday morning.”

Something's off. Immediately rushing to the living room, you set the cupcakes down so you can call Wayne. It rings a few times but Eddie's uncle doesn’t pick up.

"Wayne's not picking up."

“That’s odd,” Steve gulps. “He almost always does.”

So you go to message Eddie. It's a simple text, Where are you? Straight to the point. To your complete shock, your usual blue text bubbles turn green. Eddie's phone is off. What the hell?

So you go to call him next. It doesn't hurt to try. But then your knees start to buckle when you're immediately directed to an automated voicemail box.

“We’re sorry. Your call cannot be completed as dialed. Please try again later.”

The room is as frostbitten as the air outside. Steve senses abrupt energy shift.

You scroll nervously through your phone. The next person to contact is Dustin. Outside of his friendship with Steve, he is the next person closest to Eddie. But Curly doesn't pick up either.

"Oh god," you feel the color rushing from your face.

"Hargrove, i-it's okay," Steve attempts. "He's probably with Jeff or Gareth or Grant or somethin', o-okay? Let's not jump to conclusions."

He rests a warm hand atop your arm, grounding you back down to earth. You turn to him with worry. He rubs your back to comfort you.

"Eddie would never do anything to hurt himself on purpose," Steve assures you. "I can promise you that much. Don't let your mind go there."

"Okay," you exhale.

"But he is stupid though," Steve adds. "So, to be safe, we should probably check the hospital. Or urgent care. Dude probably cucked his ankle again."

And with that, you two set off to Hawkins Memorial on the other side of town.

The icy roads seem to draw on for miles as Steve drives. And you had no desire to explore the vastness of Roane County, for as long as Eddie isn’t there waiting for you at whatever coordinate the wind blows you to next.

Tapping your feet anxiously on the floor, you click your phone on and off again to see whether or not a message from Eddie pops up. It’s the same outcome every time.

Steve’s gentle hand rests on top of your trembling ones once again. He gives you a soft pat.

“It’ll all be okay, Shy Girl,” he says to you. “Promise.”

Thankfully, hospital parking is almost immediate. Booking it to the emergency department now, you and Steve rush to get to the front of the line to speak to the receptionist. When it's finally your turn, she greets you rather stoically.

“Can I help you?”

Without violating HIPAA?

“I sure hope so,” you sigh. “This is a wellness check. Do you guys maybe have a Munson admitted here?”

“Munson…” the last name marinates on the lady’s tongue almost as if she’s familiar with it. You wouldn’t doubt it. Wayne’s a frequent flyer due to the cancer and Hawkins is quite literally a speck of dust on the map.

You try to help her. “Maybe an Eddie…Edward… or quite possibly a Wayne…”

“Quite possibly a Wayne?” the lukewarm secretary echos you.

“Yes!” you hiss urgently. “Or maybe a John Doe? A guy in his late twenties, early thirties... This person most likely came in yesterday afternoon, night, or maybe even this morning. He has brown hai-"

“Shy Girl…” comes a voice behind you.

It’s one of the Munsons you’re looking for. But to your surprise, not the one you were expecting.

"Wayne..." you breathe.

In front of you is Eddie's uncle, sitting in his wheelchair evidently a bawling mess. If he’s here and Eddie’s not, it can only mean one thing.

Your throat tightens and you struggle to speak. A thin veil of tears gloss over your eyes, your fingertips essentially frozen now as the sterile white building closes up around you.

“Wayne…” you say again. “What happened?”

His uncle sniffs, drawing out uneven breaths as he tries to calm down, nose an irritable red to match his glassy, sleep-deprived eyes.

“There’s... been an accident,” he chokes. “They T-boned him. Van is totaled.”

That van. That stupid fucking van you’ve told Eddie time and time again to get rid of.

“Wayne," Steve interrogates. "Who drove you here?”

“The Henderson boy.”

You can't take it anymore.

“Where is he?!” you demand. “And why aren’t you with him, Wayne?! WHERE IS EDDIE?”

“Doctors won’t tell me nothin'!” Wayne blubbers, his voice cracking like a helpless child. “But as someone whose second home is the hospital, I know what that means.”

The three of you take this time to cry. You instantly collapse into Steve's arms. He embraces you tight, dragging you off to the side so the people who were waiting behind you could be helped next.

Nothing matters anymore, you think to yourself. This is what you get for going to bed angry. The one time. The one time. And as the three of you start to gather yourselves again — rather slowly — Wayne speaks once more... uttering a belief that you've already come to terms with. Something that you already know.

“It’s not looking good for Eddie.”

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @mediocredreams @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay @xblueriddlex @maskofmirrors @babyloutattoo89 @queenofhawkins

oh yeah, song of the chapter is...

side note: s/o to DR. bridgit mendler, the irl barbie

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #strip club owner!eddie #stripper!reader #eddie munson angst #boyfriend!eddie munson #wayne munson #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #joseph quinn #joe quinn #Spotify

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nekrosdolly · 9 months ago

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haunting you - a. wesker x reader

you're a stripper and he's a scientist who's never felt the touch of another.

a/n; first wesker piece i've written in a whiiiile so i'm sorry if this is a little clunky!!

content warnings; set in 1998 before the mansion incident, jill moonlights as a bartender, virgin!wesker, stripper!reader (no set stripper name), wesker is in his late thirties (38), reader is 21, loss of virginity, brief dry-humping, sex (p in v), dirty talk, technically bottom/sub wesker, top/dom reader, this might be ooc (im rusty), light petplay (you call him a puppy and he almost creams), whiny wesker, slight condescension from the reader, not proofread as always lol

terms of endearment; darling, sweetheart, dear, puppy (wesker)

wc; 2.460k

You stare at your reflection in the vanity mirror, one of many workers tonight who are less than strapped for cash not unlike yourself. Since you were legal, you’d made the choice, albeit degrading, to start stripping. That was three years ago. Now twenty-one, you’re less naive and smarter with your money, but still lacking financially. Not to mention, you’d been at this club for three years, why change that? No real job would take you if you told them what you’d been doing as a makeshift career anyway.

And so you stare. Your makeup is kept simple but alluring enough for most anyone to be drawn to you, but your outfit is the real showstopper. Strappy and black, you’re nearly naked, but you’re used to that by now. The usual pre-performance jitters have struck you once again, leaving you with cold feet and nerves that aren’t much warmer. Even in the back rooms, you can hear the bass-heavy music and high whistles of men vying for more of whomever’s attention. It’s enough to draw you from your shell and with a few deep breaths, you force yourself away from the vanity. The path to the stage is short, much to your chagrin, and the lights are hotter than hell when you step out to the shiny stage. While you get no cheering, you get your own special welcome of drunken customers whistling lowly and the occasional whoop.

You know from experience that, while intoxicated, watching someone work the pole is hypnotic at the least. Your audience can hardly take their eyes off of you, rolling your body against the chromatic steel pole. It’s still warm from the previous dancer. Your anthem for tonight is seductive and slow, as most dancers’ songs are, and your face is the peak of seduction even as the inebriated crowd douses you with cash of all varieties.

After the dance, you’re slick with the slightest sheen of sweat. Nobody ever said dancing was easy, even the exotic kind. You walk to the bar, swaying your hips with every step. Despite the money you’d earned from your on-stage performance, you’re hounding for more. You refuse to leave with less than your month’s rent tonight. So you saunter to the bar, your sultry gaze scanning the sea of people carefully.

“A drink?” Jill, the bartender asks as you lean against the bar. She’s always liked you, so she slips you a free drink now and then.

“Please,” you nod softly and she smiles, ready to make your usual as a platinum-blonde man approaches you. He offers you no smile, just a somewhat menacing stare. You’d be scared if there wasn’t something so virginal about him. Otherwise handsome, with pale skin and blue eyes behind slightly dorky prescription glasses. Not to mention, he’s dressed in a suit.

“Lovely show,” he says with a somewhat nasally voice. Like clockwork, you smile and sip the cocktail Jill slides over to you. His lips twitch slightly at the corners- a smile by his terms in return.

“Thank you, honey.”

“Of course, dear.” He takes a seat on the stool beside you, flagging Jill over for a cocktail of his own. He seems confident, though you’re not sure if it’s because he’s got money or because he’s talking to someone attractive. Your gaze remains steady on his face, although his trails much lower on you before flicking up to meet your eyes. Weird, you could’ve sworn they were blue just a moment ago…

“Do tell, darling,” he ghosts a pale, elegant hand over your shoulder, “how much would a few hours of privacy with you cost me?”

Just looking at him, he seems like he has money. He reeks of crisp bills that can hardly fit in his overflowing wallet. Part of you wonders just how much you can get out of him. Your performance left you with roughly $360- not quite enough. Should you play your cards right, he could be your last customer for the night.

“Three hundred per hour.” You say with that same smile. He doesn’t flinch at the number like most men might. Then again, you get the feeling that he’s not like most men. He seems respectful, too- maybe you were wrong and he’s a regular, or maybe he doesn’t want to get kicked out. He nods and you finish your drink quickly. He does the same.

“Shall we?” He gestures to the back of the club where there’s less light and doors that lead to private rooms. If he were allowed to touch you, he’d offer you his arm.

You can always tell the experience level of men when they’re alone with you, away from friends whom they might try to fool with a hyper-masculine persona. This man- whose name you still don’t know- is similar to that. He grows a bit more fidgety, maybe out of impatience, and when he sits down on the plush velvet booth surrounding the stage, he struggles to stay still. He clears his throat quietly and looks away from you as you straddle him.

“So tell me,” you purr, cupping his jaw and guiding him to look at you in all your seductive glory. The way your hair is styled compliments your makeup, the curve of your pliant flesh between the straps of your skimpy bikini bottom that’s adorned with black gems, and your top decorated with those same gems. His cheeks heat up at the smooth sound of your voice, red tinging his alabaster cheeks. Nervous eyes trail up your body to meet your own, your heavy gaze inflicting arousal upon him. The heavy feeling pools in his gut, his cock twitching to life in his boxers.

“What’re you looking for? A lap dance? Something a little more?” It’s a little late to be asking that but you get the feeling he doesn’t mind. Even though you’re just hovering, you can feel a hint of the bulge in his pants.

He swallows thickly.

“What would a little more get me?” He asks quietly, his hands unsteadily hovering around your waist. Seeing such soft skin begging to be touched makes his mouth water. Little do you know- you might, given how anxious he seems to be- he’s had very few chances to touch someone as gorgeous as you. He’d taken none of those chances and to this day, remains a virgin. He’s not used to being so close to someone like you.

“Sex, sweetheart.” You rub his cheek with your thumb, resisting the urge to tease him into oblivion. Technically, soliciting sex is against club rules, but what your boss doesn’t know won’t hurt her. “Would that cost extra?” “Yeah, it would. You buying?”

“H-How much?”

“An extra three hundred.”

He rushes to grab his wallet from his pocket and dig out the three hundred. You smile as you take it from his trembling hand and tuck it into the waistband of your panties.

“Thank you…”

“Albert.”

“Thank you, Albert,” you settle your full weight onto his lap, really feeling the extent of his boner under your clothed cunt. He groans quietly, biting his bottom lip as he stares wantonly at you. A soft giggle escapes your throat, “just a few rules though.”

He gulps and nods, trying his hardest to pay attention in favor of rutting against your warm, inviting cunt like a dog in heat. You let go of his face.

“One; you cannot leave bruises- no hickeys, scratches, bitemarks, etcetera. Two; no kissing, I need my makeup to be perfect. Three; I’m in control and if you have a problem, speak now or forever hold your peace.” You give him a moment to voice any protests, but he’s quiet as a mouse.

“Fourth and finally, if you cum inside of me, you’re paying me an extra hundred per load. Do you consent to all these rules?”

“I do.”

“Good man,” you feel his cock throb at the praise. Albert sucks in a sharp breath as you slowly roll your hips, a shaky exhale following when you guide his hands to your waist. His hesitance feeds your confidence like fuel to a fire. He tips his head back, each movement against his clothed cock forcing a pathetic whine from the back of his throat. He bites his bottom lip hard and true to a virgin’s ways, his climax is approaching quickly. Sure, he’s masturbated before, but this is much different. You’re so pretty and wet, your dripping arousal soaking through the gusset of your panties. Watching him slowly come undone, the menacing facade melting into the mess he’s trying so hard not to be is satisfying. You’re relatively unphased, even as his cock bumps your clit with the perfect amount of pressure. He’s getting too close to cumming.

“I-I’m going to- Wait, please,” he grips your hips tight, making you still, “I need to be inside of you.” You nod softly and scoot back a little, allowing him to unzip his fly and shove his pre-cum stained boxers down so his cock stands free. Pale fading to pink at the tip, weeping with sticky, salty fluid- he’s long, about three fingers thick, and clean-shaven. He looks down at your hand as you grab his length, cooing quietly at him with faux sympathy and stroking him once, twice.

“Please,” his hands ball into fists with the effort of his restraint. Needy, half-lidded blues meet yours again, “please fuck me.”

“Sure, sweetheart.” You chuckle softly and push your panties to the side, careful of the cash hooked on your waistband, and shuffle closer. He nearly cums the moment you lower yourself onto his achy length, his mouth dropping open. You wince slightly at the stretch- it’s on you for forgoing prep, but how can you deny him when he’s so pliant in your hands? His hands shoot our to grab your waist firmly, struggling to maintain what little composure he has left. Panting, his cheeks are bright red, and he can’t stop looking at you.

He allows you a moment to adjust- though it’s mostly for himself to will himself to avoid cumming on the spot. You’re wet and warm, gummy walls surrounding his length perfectly. It’s even better when you start moving, rolling your hips smoothly. Hands on his shoulders, you keep yourself steady as you ride him. Soft moans fall from your lips, his cock brushing against your spongy g-spot deep within your velvetine walls. He’s all but whimpering, his perfectly aligned teeth digging hard into his pale pink lower lip so hard he might bleed.

He does once you lean forward and move faster, your face just inches from his. If you hadn’t set the rule of no kissing, he’d be pressing his lips to yours to hide his pathetic noises.

“You know,” you murmur, locking his eyes to yours again, “you look kind of like a puppy.” His cock kicks inside of you at that, a stray moan slipping from his lips. He shouldn’t like that, really. He’s a scientist- a virologist to be more specific-, a professional, uptight man, and yet he’s acting so subserviently. It would be bothersome if he wasn’t balls deep inside of you and nearing his climax quickly.

Panting, he struggles to restrain himself. He can’t help himself as he leans forward and wraps you in his (oddly) strong arms, burying his face into your neck to stave off his orgasm for just a little longer. The obscene squelch of your slick makes his head spin, each roll of your hips making him grunt or groan louder and louder until-

“C-Cumming- cumming-” he rasps, his pulsing length spilling hot, sticky seed deep within your gummy walls. The moan he lets out is downright shameful, his grip on you tightening exponentially.

You gasp quietly at how much he cums and how deep it is, nearly reaching your cervix. You pause for his sake, allowing him to relax against your soft body as he recovers from his high. In attempt to soothe him a little more, you rub his upper back. He grumbles and pushes himself against the back of the booth, huffing. His once-perfect hair has become a bit mussed, likely loosened due to the light sheen of sweat. He can’t seem to look at you as he slips another hundred into the waistband of your panties alongside the three other bills.

“Do you want to-” He gestures to you, still straddling him with his soft dick inside of you. Like a nice man, he wants you to finish, but you know you shouldn’t. It would likely increase the chances of you getting pregnant and you simply can’t have that, birth control implant be damned.

“No, it’s fine.” You shake your head softly and get off of him, fixing your underwear as you turn away to give him privacy. He tucks himself in his boxers and zips his pants up before fishing for his now-thinner wallet, though it’s not completely empty yet. If you didn’t know better (and you don’t, he’s a stranger after all,) you’d think he gets off on this kind of thing- his wallet being drained.

Albert hands you three more hundreds and mumbles a quiet “thank you” for your services. It hasn’t even been an hour, but it’s not like he cares. Who wouldn’t want to give their money to someone as pretty as you?

He’s satisfied by the looks of things, his face less red now that he’s calmer and more composed. You take the money happily, watching him walk to the door with a smile on your lips.

“What’s your name, dear?” He looks at you over his shoulder.

“Come back soon and maybe I’ll tell you.”

Albert leaves with that, his dignity shattered and his pride dismantled.

Weeks later and you’re at home sitting on your couch, watching the news late at night after one of your shifts. You’re barely paying attention, looking through missed calls on your motorola cd930 when you hear a familiar name come up on the missing persons list. The news anchor is reading off a list of names from the most recent tragedy- a mansion exploding in Arklay County, where supposedly some members of the local S.T.A.R.S team got trapped and barely made it out alive (so you’ve heard.)

“Albert Wesker, Joseph Frost, Richard Aiken, Edward Dewey…” The tired man drones on, listing off the rest of the names as pictures start to pop up. Only one face sticks out to you.

“No way,” you sit up straight and lean closer to your television, your eyes focused on Albert’s picture. Save for the sunglasses, that’s him. You’re shocked and honestly a little disheartened.

In your dreams, you see him again.

#bunnystalker ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡#bunny's fics ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚#albert wesker #resident evil #albert wesker x reader #resident evil fanfiction #writing #resident evil x reader #albert wesker fanfic #albert wesker x you #albert wesker smut #top!reader #stripper!reader

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cameronsprincess · 4 months ago

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oh oh oh!!!! blue collar!rafe going to a strip club with his boys after a long work week😵‍💫 he’s all showered and smells fucking delicious. imagine his denim jeans that hug his thighs and ass nicely, a tight plain white t-shirt and fucking boots on… a beer in one hand, cash in the other as his hard blue eyes never leave your dancing body. i’m drooooooling.

he’d definitely wave you over for a lap dance, and the moment you approach him, he’s placing a hundred dollar bill in the waistband of your lingerie set, large, calloused hands gripping at your hips as you move them against his clothes covered dick. your pussy would throb the minute you heard his southern accent whisper in your ear, “pretty little thing ain’t ya, what’s to say you come home with me tonight, give me a private show?”

you’d do just that, ending up in his bed, screaming his name as your long nails dig into the skin of his back. he’d fuck you slow and hard, whispering the filthiest things in your ear as he did. after that night, he becomes a regular, always requesting you, and always ending up back at his house with you in his bed.

#blue collar!rafe #rafe cameron #stripper!reader #i’m drooling #this just came into my mind and idk why #but it’s so hot i’m feral as fuck

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swaqcenix · 11 months ago

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Here's a small sneak peak of tonight's fic for stripclub owner! natasha x stripper!reader..

See below:

"Shh," her voice carried an authoritative tone but you were almost certain you could sense a lace of.. jealousy?

Surely that was an impossibility; she had nothing to be jealous about besides she was your boss, albeit a damn sexy one. Reality hitting back to you slowly you sensed the tension in the room could be cut with a knife and wanted in that moment for the ground to swallow you whole.

Gone was that confident attitude you easily found yourself mustering up to her, instead replaced with a timid jealous woman wanting nothing more but to run for her life. Your eyes didn't dare leave hers despite their sea of pure intensity and fire, though you didn't think you were capable of looking away even if you tried to.

A quick flick of her hand could be seen from your peripheral vision and as if someone had press play on a remote, the crowds resumed. Colleagues danced on laps, poles and bar stools while the noise resumed like they'd been frozen in time.

Before you even had the chance to speak, you were spun back around rather forcefully. However rather than letting you go, her hands yanked you flush against her chest, allowing you to feel her radiant body heat and the heat to come back to your cheeks once more.

Hands roamed over your body while her lips moved to your ear, a sultry almost lustful voice following suite.

"Well well, what was that little stunt hm? Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for private shows not giving a full on public display of borderline sex," she snapped though her hands still cupped your hips.

"I.. I can explain..."

Her hands cupped your clothed cunt causing you to cut your sentence off and gasp out. Embarrassingly, your body jerked forward into her hand showing how putty you were, easily giving into your boss.

"No, no I don't think so. You wanted a public stunt like that hm? Who's breasts are these?"

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #stripclub owner!natasha romanoff #stripper!reader

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jacevelaryonswife · 1 year ago

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After Dark | Part One

He wanted your fire to surround him in the crowd and burn him slowly.

pairing: female stripper!reader x modern!osferth | some moments of finan and sihtric.

warnings: smut, p in v sex, tiddy sucking, oral sex (m receiving). English is NOT my first language. 4,1k of words.

after dark masterlist

═════════════════════

A black cape and a crown-like prop was all that could be seen of the woman on stage, making Osferth even more anxious for whatever happened next.

He was a virgin in this, in this kind of environment. Throughout his life the thought of being in a den of carnality was never considered, his religiosity more fervent than most of the people with whom he lived acted as a wall to avoid such a path, however, there was no guilt or shame in his chest at that moment, just a natural embarrassment to be exposed to such a scope. He was a good boy, very polite, humorous, witty and with good social skills, but when it came to going further with girls the scenario was different, scarier, shy and sloppy.

His first time was with a girl in college. She was sweet enough to guide the rhythm, they all guided the rhythm with him — which Osferth found very satisfying. He learned that he liked the lady in control, showing how, when and where he should touch her. In addition, his position was easier than taking control and having to concentrate so as not to end up too fast. He was a shrewd little shit in the end.

But none of that crossed his mind, not when all the lights went out again and an engaging melody echoed through the club making him mortally anxious and excited.

And then, exactly at the same time that the warm orange tone set fire to the stage and a male voice accompanied the instrumental, you were in full display to the audience with a wild posture. The cover that hid your body focused on the floor to reveal the simple black lingerie with props decorating both arms and a large yellow snake wrapped from his neck to his waist. You were absolutely stunning and sensual, especially when your hips began to move at a slow and seductive pace, almost graceful if you were not wanton, totally capturing his attention.

Watching her strolling in the night so white, wondering: Why It's only after dark?

Your eyes closed to sink in the music as you moved your body gently, handling the snake with a frightening naturalness even with the animal curling around your body. What if it suffocated you? Osferth thought dissuaded.

“Aye, mate, she seems to deal with snakes a lot,” Finan whispered without taking his eyes off the image of the woman ahead.

In her eyes, a distant fire lights, burns bright, wondering: Why it's only after dark?

And then when your eyes opened Osferth could swear that your irises were on fire, leaving your aura even more overwhelming than possible. You were not entangled in any poledance, which made your eyes travel along the audience with greater ease and stop in the direction of his. No, don't be stupid, she didn't look at me.

But he wanted it to be true. He wanted your fire to surround him in the crowd and burn him slowly.

Find myself in her room, feel the fever of my doom. Falling falling throught the floor, I'm mocking on the devils door.

And maybe Osferth's perception was right. Maybe you were really contemplating the young lamb ahead as a hungry louse, but that wasn’t an ordinary look, no, he felt almost invaded in his intimate space, as if you knew what he was thinking as you moved as gracefully as petals in contact with the wind. Not even when the other dancers collected the snake from your shoulders did the weight of your gaze soften, no, quite the contrary, your attention was clearly fixed on the central figure in front of the stage as you slowly floated on your bare feet.

Oh God, it couldn't be real.

Were you really coming towards him?"

In the dawn I wake up to find her gone, and a note, says: “Only after dark”.

Yes, you- No, I wasn't.

Moving a few centimeters to where Sihtric was, you went on to face him, dangerously approaching the threshold of the stage to caress him with your foot along his chest, abdomen and very close to his groin. "Can I, handsome?" You asked after stopping your movements and retreating your foot until you gently touched the base of the beer glass in front of it, receiving a positive nod. “Take it for me,” your order was firm and a little smooth. "Open your mouth."

After a few seconds, a feline and satisfied smile adorned your beautiful face when the Dane leaned over to receive the beer falling on a thread in his mouth, having his hair caressed during the process. “Such a good boy,” you praised him by handing him the glass to turn your attention to the young man next door.

Osferth's eyes sparkled when you stopped in front of him and moved your hips as you went down until your faces were level, leaving him redder than a ripe cherry. Your presence made his breathing fail and emitted enough heat to warm him on a harsh winter day, your firm and sweetnessous voice throwing a warm cloud towards him.

“Happy birthday, sweetie.”

"Thank you ma'am," he replied so quickly that he didn't realize the formal term. He's niver seen a woman like you before.

"Not so old yet, dear," you sent him the sexiest smile he ever received, apparently having fun with how disconcerted he seemed.

“He's just shy, sunshine,” Finan said with his accent thicker than usual.

Your attention was divided between the two men, looking at the Irishman while holding Osferth's chin with your warm touch. "Is he? I love shy little things," the savagery shone in your eyes, "especially when they are as handsome and blushing as you." You approached his face until your noses were touching.

His heart beat faster than a deer cornered by hunters and he was sure that if your lips kept shaving against his it would be even more difficult to hide the bulge between his pants. Maybe you had already noticed giving the open smile as you picked up the ballots that were thrown in your direction, getting up and walking to the central poledance. You took the prop off your head and threw it at the audience to the delight of them. Osferth was too static for his reflection to be fast enough to reach the object, luckily Finan was faster than the others and handed him over.

"Keep it."

Burning, burning in the flame, now I know her secret name. You can tear her temple down, but she'll be back and rule again.

Your movements were mesmerizing and precise, lavishing flexibility and sensuality to get him on his knees. When your feet touched the floor, you slowly sent your hands to your back towards the closure of the bra, looking at the audience that began to encourage your next act. He wasn't prepared for that. Especially when you looked at him and shook your head negatively. Several men howled asking to see your body, screaming, begging, making your laugh with malice and a hint of cruelty, denying them again

In my heart, a deep and dark lonely part wants her and waits for after dark.

Osferth realized that he wanted to feel the touch on his skin again, no, he needed to feel it.

After dark

He wanted your savage look only in his direction.

After dark

He wanted the overwhelming aura cornering him again.

After dark

He wanted everything.

God, he was lost.

“That's what I call a fucking show!” Finan's scream burst the bubble of lust that enveloped him, reminding him to breathe again.

Osferth never wanted so much to be subdued by a lady before. But unfortunately he was not the only one with the same thought and worried him even more when thousands of ballots were thrown in his direction.

“She's mine,” said a guy behind him.

"Not fucking. Leave that to me,” Finan said as he got up abruptly from his chair, going somewhere inside the club.

His mind was too stunned to reason what had just happened clearly, but he was warm and excited and it didn't matter if you slept with him just for the money, he wanted to have the damn experience. Fortunately Sihtric kept silent for a long time before asking Osferth what he had found, receiving a simple "It was good" from the blonde.

“I see,” the Dane laughed.

Of course he saw it, which in itself made him want to succumb.

“Where did Finan go?” He asked.

“Probably looking for your birthday present,” he replied bluntly, sending a very significant look.

What?

“What?” The youngest asked with wide eyes. Was he serious?

"Your birthday present," Sihtric repeated again, "You don't have to be nervous, she'll know what to do but I imagine it won't be cheap."

It wasn't a problem (depending on how much you were going to charge).

"What if she doesn't want to?" The question was genuine.

He took a long sip of what was left of his beer. “She is a stripper, wins who pays better and maybe someone pays better than Finan. I'm sorry for that."

Would you reject him? Yes, you could... but he wished so much that he didn't. It was anxious minutes waiting for the Irishman, his hands were sweating when he noticed other men going the same way as his friend went, however, only one of them came back faster than a man having his first time and made Osferth's heart accelerate.

“Come with me, quickly,” Finan almost dragged him from the chair down the same corridor. "They have rooms here, which turns out to be more expensive than the girl going to your house, but she was very clear about not going to cleintes' houses, ya see? Now, don't ask questions and enjoy the evening."

It was a lot to deal with in such a short time, but Osferth shook his head and asked:

“How much was it?"

"Don’t worry about it, she was very generous with ya."

"What do you mean?" His eyes narrowed.

"She's a premium girl and doesn't accept anyone. Logically, someone with our cash condition wouldn't handle it, but she liked ya. I'll still have to pay because of the percentage of the bosses, but it's much less than the whole amount," he explained as fast as he can given the proximity to the room, putting some packages of condoms in his pocket. “Now, go get her tiger. And I'll keep her crown,” he took the prop from the youngest's hands.

Being dropped in front of the door, Osferth took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror hanging on the wall, arranging his hair and clothes before depositing fearful knocks against the door. Sweat accumulated in his hands and he wiping them on the side of his pants, taking a deep breath when his sweet permission filled his ears. The vision that presented you as soon as you entered the dark room with neon lights was of you sitting on the edge of the bed with a suggestive smile.

“Hi, sweet boy. Lock the door and come to me."

He almost cred towards you, stopping a few centimeters ago when you got up and stroked his cheek. "What's your name?"

His voice was flawed and nervous when answering: "It's Osferth, lady."

“Osferth. What a beautiful name,” you hummed. "What do you want me to do it?"

Everything. He wanted everything.

“I...” his neck warmed up when he tried to express what he would like to happen. His gaze fell on his feet in shame, unable to face yours for a long time. "I… I want you."

"Do you want me? How?” Your question was calm, with no intention of scaring you. “Physically? A conversation?”

“Physically.”

“Do you want me to take control, dear?"

Yes, for God's sake, yes.

“Yes, yes. I want it, please,” he begged with puppy eyes and a lovely pout.

A bright and satisfied smile shone in your features as you leaned against his lips.

“Okay sweetie, just relax, I’ll take care of you,” your hand circled the back of his neck while the other held the other side of his neck, starting a slow kiss that made his skin warm up.

His hands were surprisingly fast in wrapping your body and breaking any minimum existing distance, delighting in the radiated heat and the sensual way that your lips moved, your tongue asking for access to experience it calmly, but firmly, causing him a low moan when your fingers pulled some of the delicate threads from the nape of the neck. "Such a beautiful boy. I want to hear more where this sound came from."

Your lips connected again in a moist and sensual web that dissipated part of his apprehension. Osferth didn’t want to have sex with you because of Finan or any factor that could be associated, he wanted you because his desire consumed him with a burning and unknown urgency. He wanted you even more when your bold fingers climbed inside the shirt to throw it somewhere on the floor, caressing the milky skin with the tip of your nails and marking it with wet kisses along the jaw and neck.

Would people know what happened when they saw your claim about him? Finan and Sihtric for sure yes and he couldn't even care about the provocations he would hear.

Osferth returned to reality when your caresses stopped and your body went back to bed. "Take off your clothes for me, honey."

His neck warmed up again and he realized that you liked it a lot when he acted like a helpless sheep. He had a nice body, but it probably wasn't the coolest you've ever seen — he tought, made him even more shy.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of pretty boy, you're really good looking. Come here.”

He was sure from there that you were bewitching him like a succubus ready to devour him body and soul. There was no fear in the way he discarded his shoes and pants and went to meet him with the condom between his fingers.

"Good boy," you purred, pulling him into a demanding kiss as you sat on his lap, grinding in his bulge.

Holy J- you were a fucking provocation. His hands circled your waist and back, unconsciously (or consciously?) Encouraging your lascivious movements that made him grunt softly. “So precious, like a little lamb,” your hands pushed him lying against the mattress, kissing him sensually. Feeling bold and extremely aroused, Osferth requested access to your mouth with his tongue, gently leaning against you and moaning when you gently sucked the tip of his tongue. Your taste was citrus with a pinch of adocity and an alcoholic background, like a tropical drink. Your lips ran through the jaw, neck and velvety torso, leaving a moist trail of lust.

For a moment, when you pulled his underwear down with your teeth, he forgot to breathe properly.

“Has any girl go down on you before?” Your question brought him back to reality for a short time.

"N-no."

"Shame on them," licking your hand, you grabbed the base of his cock and masturbated him slowly. "You have such a beautiful cock." Oh heaven. Your hand was working so well, much better than any time he touched himself. "You want me to use my mouth, my sweet Osferth."

“Yes please, please.”

"Good boy."

Even absorbed, Osferth caught it when you took the condom and wrapped it in the length of it, lowering it with a smile on your face to grab it like a popsicle. He moaned loudly and held your hair instinctively but without pulling. It was almost heavenly to have your mouth taking him in such a provocative and wanton way, so intense that he almost came when you moved the velvety balls.

Your provocation continued by concentrating your tongue on the coated tip that leaked pre cum, involving the bulbous part and sucking while moving the length with your hand. He was sure he went closest to the sky and came back when your warm mouth took him deep and vibrated around him, making him hold your hair more firmly. “Don't. Wait. I'm gonna-“

"You have an hour with me, dear, do you think you can give me more than one?" Your question was tempting, especially with the malice in your beautiful face and the continuous movement of your hand. "I'd love to feel you inside me."

Oh fuck, that immediately sent him to an intense peak and faster than he planned, but so overwhelming and hot that his legs burned. How sinful of him was to associate what you did with something heavenly, when in fact it was a blasphemy to the sacred. His body was red and a little sweaty, strong breathing and terribly satisfied. No other good girl has brought him such euphoria before.

No good girl removed the used condom and pumped it with ypur expenses on the summit of pleasure.

You certainly weren't a good girl.

"Did you like it?" Your question came after a while, lying next to him and gently caressing the contour of his chest.

“A lot. I've never... never been so good."

Your eyes sweetened as you contemplated his figure, receiving a satisfied smile in response.

"You're so sweet." You leaned over to chastely kiss his lips. "Any girl would be lucky to have someone like you."

His cheeks blushed and he looked away in shyness. You were being so nice. Maybe that's why he didn't calculate his next words. "Why are you here?" Oh no, idiot, why would I ask something like that? Your regret was almost instantaneous. "You don't have to answer, I'm sorry, it was an intimate question, I'm sorry."

"No problem, it's not a tragic story or something," you laughed softly. "I needed money and I needed it fast. It's not as terrible as it seems, I usually don't need to fuck with customers to pay the bills and the dance is enough, but little things like you that can't be ignored, so I had to make exceptions. And you, why are you here?"

"I... it was my friend's idea, Finan. A bet actually I lost. I didn't imagine this would happen," he said meekly, heart warming with his revelation. "Don't you usually do that?" He asked. "That," he emphasized.

“No. Most customers are not attractive and I’m a demanding girl," you purred and leaned against his chest, smoothing his beautiful angular face. "And you're handsome."

"You’re very beautiful too," he smoothed your back and gave a chaste kiss on your forehead, which made you chuckle on his skin.

And then, against his will, you walked away and knelt on the bed, removing your bra to reveal your beautiful tits and massage them dramatically.

“Mm, I'd love to have your big hands on me. Do you want to touch me?"

Fuckin hell.

He almost jumped on the mattress to reach you, covering your soft breasts completely with both hands, squeezing, playing, experimenting, enjoying...

“You're so gorgeous,” he was practically drooling over your appearance. “Damn it.”

“Mmm,” you smoothed the soft and milky chest in front of you, delighting in the touch that was replaced by his mouth after begging you (unnecessarily) from the puppy's eyes to smear your skin.

Osferth delighted in her soft breasts, sucking and licking the halo with desire, vigor and tenderness, nibbling on the protruding and newly hardened beak, which made your eyes close with pleasure. You bit your lower lip and straightened his hair, letting him take his time in the insatiable desire for you. From the smeared breasts he climbed to capture your lips with fire and lust, exploring your mouth with vigor, sucking your tongue as he has never done with any girl before. He kissed your jaw, your neck and your stomach when you lay on the bed, stopping at the panty line.

“Can I take it off?” He asked quietly.

“Of course you can.”

If he wasn’t hard as stone before, your wet intimacy certainly did.

“Do you know where women like to be touched?” You asked sweetly.

“Yes.” He pressed his thumb on your pearl, “here, isn’t it?”

“Mmm, yes, but it’s not like that,” you held his finger and created circular movements with the ideal pressure on your clit, “it’s like that.”

Your hand went to his hardened cock, making him moan. “Such a beautiful cock,” you licked your lips, “get another condom.” And he was very quick to follow your order, giving a tasty view of his cute white ass.

A small strip of shyness enveloped him by placing the condom on his axis in front of you, but he cled back and hovered above your body.

“Do you want to take control?” You asked.

“No. I don’t want to,” he held your back and ass between the bed and turned your body over his, being caged by your thighs and arms.

“Good. I’ll treat you very well, good boy.”

He didn’t gasp so hard when your hands held him in relation to the first time, but when you sank into him slowly... oh boy, all the air in your lungs is gone. He was sure he had reached the apex of pleasure.

Eyes closed, mouth between open and red skin, a true vision for you.

“Let me take a time,” your voice was soft as you went down totally, moaning in unison. “Damn, you’re a big boy. I love that.”

Damn it. The slow pace of the warm hug made him whimper in drunkenness, holding your hips tightly and raising his legs, which tilted your body forward. Leaning your hands against his chest you started to assemble it properly, moaning well and enjoying the moment.

On the other hand, he, the lad was vocal and quite interactive by the way his hips hit a few times against your own, wanting more, needing more.

“Do you want more?”

“Yes,” he said between one moan and another, blond hair sticking to his forehead by sweat.

“Okay,” you bit your lower lip, riding it stronger and faster, sending it to a cloud of lust that consumed you with every movement.

The whole situation contributed to the overwhelming pleasure that consumed his body. Be it the snap between the hips that filled the room, or the delicious sounds you made and especially the wet grip of your femininity against him.

“Move your hips too dear, give me that, I know you want it.”

And he wanted it, oh how he wanted it.

Osferth accepted your request and standardized your movements, hitting harder against your pussy (still very kind) that he had already used on a girl before, muttering a bad word the heat of the moment as he did a few times in his life. But fuck it, fuck it, he needed it.

You jumped uninhibitedly and maliciously in search of the apex, moaning his name as his grip began to increase, his cock brushing in all the right places at a delicious rhythm that was almost blowing his mind. Your wet pussy was soozing the inside of your thighs and the base of his cock, increasing the wet and profane sounds.

“You’re so fucking big, I feel so full. I’m going to cum so well on your cock,” your dirty talk almost made you come with tense hips, moaning loudly, which you noticed immediately, touching your clit while the tension in your core increased from the constant friction. “Hed a little longer, dear, I’m close.”

The weight on his balls was too much, he felt that he would really explode when he came, concentrating as much as he can for it to happen after you.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. That was so hard.

“Osferth, oh honey,” you squeezed him violently and his movements faltered when a hot and white wave crashed into your body and dragged you to the apex of pleasure. “Fuck.”

Fuck.

His hips crashed into yours for the last time right after your orgasm, filling the condom when cumming good and strong. It was totally heavenly.

He was floating in a cloud that erased all his thoughts except that moment.

You got up carefully and fell against his chest, lying next to him with a satisfied smile. “Did you like it, dear?”

He was panting and with a silly and wide smile, hugging you gently. “So much... so damn much.”

“Good. Get some rest, I want to make good use of the time we still have.”

═════════════════════

note: Sorry for the delay in publishing the chapter, the last few weeks have been terrible and stressful because of the finals.

— taglist: @gemini-mama @lexwolfhale @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @tssf-imagines @bel-bottoms

#osferth tlk #osferth x reader #osferth smut #osferth x you #osferth #osferth x fem!reader #tlk osferth #osferth x female!reader #smut fic #smut #finan #sihtric #stripper!reader

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 1 month ago

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Lap Dance

GP!Natasha Romanoff x stripper!fem!reader

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, lap dances, sensual touching, teasing, Natasha has a cock

Authors notes: I got really into writing this and felt like it was more like Natasha owns the club you're working at which is why she's allowed to touch.

As the heavy bass of the music fills the room, you step closer, letting each movement flow like honey, slow and deliberate. The click of your heels is barely audible over the beat, but Natasha’s sharp gaze notices every tiny detail: the shimmer of your outfit under the club’s dim lights, the way you carry yourself with a confident, magnetic allure. You can feel her eyes drinking in the sight of you, her expression a perfect mask of calm while her fingers tap idly on the rim of her glass.

When you finally reach her, Natasha leans back, giving you space to straddle her lap. You feel her strong thighs beneath you, an unyielding base that makes the whole moment feel headier. Her hand moves to the back of your thigh, fingers curling possessively, almost instinctively, as you settle onto her. There’s no mistaking the way she holds you as if you’re something precious she doesn’t want slipping from her grasp.

You start with a teasing rhythm, rolling your hips, letting your chest brush against hers, close but not close enough. Natasha’s gaze narrows, lips parting slightly as you lean in to whisper, the scent of her cologne mingling with the intoxicating warmth radiating off her. The closeness makes her shift, almost imperceptibly, but enough that you know you’ve hooked her. Her breath fans warm against your neck, and her voice is low and controlled.

��Careful,” she murmurs, fingertips pressing just a little harder against your skin. “If you’re going to tempt me, you’d better be prepared for what comes next.”

But you aren’t about to give in so easily. You pull back, giving her that mischievous smirk you know she finds irresistible, and continue to move, slow and sensual. Natasha’s hand trails from your thigh to the small of your back, steadying you, holding you exactly where she wants. The heat between you builds with every subtle touch and lingering glance, both of you locked in an unspoken game.

Her thumb traces small circles on your hip, her grip firm yet measured. Every so often, her eyes meet yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine, her gaze promising that she’s fully in control, no matter how much you try to tease her. And when you press a little closer, letting your lips hover near her ear as you whisper something daring, you feel her jaw tighten, her restraint just barely holding.

Without a word, Natasha’s hand slips to your neck, thumb brushing along your jaw as she tilts your face to meet her gaze. There’s a dark, appreciative glint in her eyes, and for a moment, the two of you are locked in a silent standoff—one you both know she’s already won.

Your pulse thrums under her hand as Natasha holds you there, the heat of her touch radiating through your skin, setting every nerve on edge. The music fades into the background, becoming just a soft hum compared to the pounding of your heartbeat as you stay suspended in that electrifying tension. The corner of her mouth lifts ever so slightly, her smile a sharp edge, a glimpse of the power she’s only barely holding back.

With excruciating slowness, Natasha’s hand trails down from your jaw to your collarbone, fingers grazing lightly over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. She’s deliberate, her movements measured, testing, like she’s gauging every little reaction, cataloging them with a smirk. She leans in close, so close you can feel the warmth of her breath against your lips, but she doesn’t kiss you—not yet.

Instead, she moves her hand back to your hip, pulling you flush against her, her grip firm, possessive. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” she murmurs, her voice a low rasp that sends a delicious shiver through you. She’s looking at you with that predatory gleam, her restraint evident but fragile, like she’s just barely holding back the urge to devour you right here.

You answer her with a slow roll of your hips, sinking further into her lap, watching her jaw clench at the friction. Her fingers dig into your waist, pulling you in just that bit tighter, letting you feel every firm line of her body pressed up against yours. Your hands find their way to the collar of her suit, fingers skimming the crisp fabric, feeling the contrast between her polished exterior and the heat simmering beneath. Her eyes follow every move, dark and steady, but you catch the flicker of her control slipping as she lets out a soft, almost inaudible sigh when you lean into her.

Taking her reaction as encouragement, you decide to push a little further, tracing a path from her collar to the thin line of her collarbone exposed beneath her shirt. You lean forward, your lips barely ghosting over her skin, and feel her inhale sharply. The grip on your waist tightens, almost a warning, but there’s a hint of surrender there too, a quiet invitation to continue testing her limits.

“Careful now,” she whispers, her voice like silk, and the way her eyes meet yours has you feeling dizzy with the power you hold over her in this moment.

But just as you’re reveling in that power, she tilts her head back, studying you with that calculating intensity of hers, her smirk returning. Her fingers drift up to your chin, guiding you to look directly into her eyes, leaving you utterly vulnerable under her gaze. And in a single smooth movement, she flips the script, leaning forward until her lips brush yours, just barely, a feather-light touch that leaves you aching for more.

Her words come as a low murmur against your mouth, each syllable laced with a heat that has you holding your breath. “Tell me… how much longer do you plan on teasing me?”

Her voice, low and sultry, sends a delicious heat racing through your veins, making you swallow hard. She’s leaning in so close now, her lips a whisper away, her gaze sharp and demanding, but she doesn’t move any closer. You can feel her patience wearing thin, that delicate tension stretched impossibly taut, but you’re not ready to let go of the game just yet.

With a coy smile, you tilt your head, letting your lips graze hers—barely a brush, soft enough to leave her wanting, hard enough to feel her sharp inhale. Her fingers tighten at your chin, pulling you closer with a gentle but firm insistence that leaves no room for escape. Natasha’s breath is hot against your skin, her hand drifting down to the small of your back, pressing you into her lap so there’s no space left between you. Your body fits perfectly against hers, a stark contrast to the sharp lines of her tailored suit, her hold warm and possessive.

“Oh, I could do this all night,” you murmur, feeling emboldened by the dark hunger in her eyes. Natasha’s smirk widens, a hint of challenge in her gaze, like she’s daring you to keep pushing her buttons. Her fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt, brushing your skin, tracing gentle, teasing circles that make it hard to keep up the façade of control.

Without warning, her hand slides higher, leaving a trail of warmth as she tilts her head, her lips grazing the shell of your ear as she whispers, “Good. I’m in no rush.” The words make your heart race, her voice velvet and steel, promising more than just the thrill of a dance. Her fingertips linger at the curve of your waist, dipping beneath the fabric just enough to make you shiver.

Slowly, deliberately, you let your hands roam over her suit jacket, tracing the strong lines of her shoulders, savoring the contrast between her polished appearance and the simmering heat beneath it. She’s still, waiting, letting you explore her, but her gaze is unwavering, every move you make reflected in the intensity of her stare. It’s almost a game now—one where every second you manage to keep her waiting only stokes the flames between you higher.

But as your fingers brush over her collarbone, Natasha shifts, her hand coming to rest firmly on the back of your neck, pulling you closer until her lips are so close to yours, you can almost taste her. “If you’re trying to make me lose control…” she says softly, her tone laced with dark amusement, “you’re doing a damn good job.”

And before you can respond, she closes the distance, her mouth claiming yours in a kiss that’s slow, consuming, every bit of her restraint crumbling as her hand tangles in your hair, pulling you even closer. The kiss deepens, each movement deliberate and savoring, as if she has all the time in the world and intends to use every second.

You feel her smile against your lips, the barely-there curve of victory, as her grip tightens, anchoring you to her. Her fingers brush up your spine, sending shivers down your back as her lips travel from yours to your jawline, leaving a heated trail down your neck. Every inch of her feels like fire, her touch both possessive and gentle, savoring every reaction she pulls from you as if each one is a prize.

Her voice, a soft murmur against your skin, brings you back, grounding you in her hold. “So,” she whispers, her words a velvet caress, “are you ready to see just how far I’ll let you push me?”

Your pulse quickens as her question hangs in the air, a charged promise that leaves you breathless. Natasha’s lips ghost along your neck, her fingertips pressing into the small of your back, urging you impossibly closer. You can feel her cock straining against her pants.

You’re lost in the intoxicating warmth of her touch, feeling the restraint unraveling as she claims you with each passing second. Her eyes hold that dark glint of control she’s carefully wielding—one she’s offering to let slip just enough for you to feel the full force of her desire.

Her hand tangles in your hair, gently pulling, tipping your head back, and her lips meet yours again, this time with a raw intensity that sends heat racing through your veins. The kiss is deep, fervent, and possessive, every brush of her mouth sending a wave of longing through you as she takes her time, savoring every second. When she finally pulls back, her gaze lingers on you, a faint smile curving her lips.

“Consider that a preview,” she murmurs, voice husky, her thumb brushing tenderly along your jawline. She lets you catch your breath, fingers trailing over your cheek with a gentleness that leaves you feeling warm and utterly captivated. “I’ll be expecting the full show later.”

She leans back, her hands loosening their hold on you but lingering, her thumb grazing your hip as if reluctant to let go. With a final smirk and a raised brow, she straightens her suit, leaving you dazed and breathless, and stands. Her parting words are laced with mischief as she leans close one last time.

“Don’t make me wait too long, darling,” she says softly, her lips brushing your ear, her breath warm against your skin.

With that, Natasha turns, the commanding presence of hers lingering long after she disappears into the crowd, leaving you with a heartbeat that echoes in the silence she left behind—a silent promise that this night was far from over.

#ley writes #ley writes one shots #kinktober 2024 #leys kinktober writing #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #gp!natasha romanoff #stripper!reader

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madame-fear · 6 months ago

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𐙚 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐈𝐓, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘.ᐟ

ೀ amira speaks.ᐟ : author has NO idea how strip clubs work so I had to do some research and ask for help,, honourary mention to my love @lady-ashfade for helping me out ♡ also,, this fic was inspired in the song Vegas by Joseline Hernández !! I badly cringed at myself the entire time but hope you guys like it ahhdjfkf rip ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : you are Fran’s favourite stripper; and he’s your favourite client who seems to adore you a bit too much. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 2.4k

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : smut. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Francisco Romero x Stripper!Reader

WARNING.ᐟ THIS FIC CONTAINS ; Fran being a little bit obsessed with you, him begging to cum inside of you, unprotected sex, P in V, cowgirl position, him being a bit possesive over you, profanity, dirty talk, use of pet names, creampie.— let me know if I forgot about something else!

The blonde haired Argentine was often referred to as your “favourite, most exclusive client”.

The very first moment your sight spotted his presence amidst the large crowd of swooning men in the strip club where you worked, you felt surprised of seeing him. Surprised, because of how much of a sweet angel he seemed— if you saw him outside your work, you would never expect him to be a frequent visitor to strip clubs, or be as filthy as he was. His sweet light green eyes and delicate features were nastily deceptive.

Just like Francisco had grown to become your favourite client, you were his one and only favourite girl. It had quickly became an habit for him to pay you great amounts of money all the time, gift you small things for you to wear or have, often visit you — almost daily —, and the Argentine always had the most gentle, yet dominant treat with you; keeping the perfect balance. He had his ways of spoiling you, there was no denying about it.

Francisco paid extra money for you to give him priority over any other man, and even to spend more time with you. Though, often, you always expected him at the end of your shift; and that way, you would be with no one else after him. You could make him go bankrupt, and he wouldn’t be able to care any less. Most of his paychecks fell right into your hands, or slipped under the waistband of your underwear.

That devotion, and the constant worshipping Fran gave you, was what made you helplessly show more interest over him than over anyone else. The man knew how to make you feel special, as well as he knew the exact things you liked, and disliked.

Ever since his green eyes laid on your own, and his thin, long fingers caressed your skin for the first time, it began existing inside of him the constant struggle between feeling heavy lust, and a fervent adoration for you— hell, Fran had even grown to despise the other men trying to woo you constantly, showering you with their money whenever you pulled out a show on the pole. Could it be classified as a growing obsession? Perhaps. Did you care? Quite the contrary, you appreciated the special attention from him, and in return, you would gladly reciprocate it by serving him in any way he desired.

“Your favourite man is here,” a coworker announced quickly, with a small grin, before disappearing from sight to focus on other clients— letting the blonde haired Argentine enter the private room where you served your own exclusive clients. The mere sight of his — rather tall — presence was more than enough to lift your mood. A toothy grin was immediatly spread widely across your features.

“Hello, sweet bunny.” how come the simple sound of his loving voice was enough to make you melt? Let alone the nicknames Fran graced you with often. The sound of the blaring music coming from the speakers of the strip club became a faint background noise as you could only focus on him at the moment. The rest of your surroundings couldn’t matter less, as you approached closer to him.

“Hope you aren’t too tired for me?” you scoffed at the silly, teasing question. His arms were wrapped around your waist, immediatly pulling you against his body as tightly as possible. Your hands clawed at his clothing, encouraging him to approach the large bed with you. A smile grew wider on the corner of your lips, feeling a growing bulge on his trousers meekly poke your stomach.

How sweet it was, having him all horny and desperately needy for you already.

“I could never be tired for my favourite client.” you said, pulling his clothing towards you. “Actually, I’ve been waiting all day long for you. We shouldn’t be wasting any more time.” a satisfied smirk appeared on his thin rosy lips. Pride filled him almost immediatly at hearing those words spurring from your lips— the entirety of your being made him painfully dread his erection, strained by his pants. “No, we shouldn’t.” he retorted, quietly.

Swiftly, you managed to gently push him against the bed right behind of him. Foreplay was something you both fervently enjoyed, and often engaged in right before fucking as it made the experience more pleasurable; but at the moment, there was no need for any foreplay. There was no denying that you were equally horny for each other, all you needed was to be in the same room together for you to already grow moist and him, to grow hard.

The Argentine’s back rested against the silk sheets of the large bed, his bright green eyes admiring the way you smoothly crawled on top of him. There was no doubt about why so many men swooned right behind of you, despite the jealousy he felt for each one of them— you were such a temptress, and you were quite good at every single little thing you did.

As you leaned closer towards his face, grasping your lips against his own in a teasing manner, allowing your hot breathing to hit against his sensitive skin, you leisurely rubbed yourself against his notoriously growing bulge. The hot fabric of your underwear was moist enough for him to feel it through his still clothed erection with each friction, the same way you could already feel his precum staining his own pants.

“Please let me cum inside of you today,” he muttered in a plea against your lips, “I will pay you even more than the usual, if necessary.”

Involuntarily, his hips moved desperately against your own, as his hands firmly took hold of your waist; groaning quietly as your cunt ached to feel his cock buried inside of you already. A scoff spurred from your lips at his proposal, inevitably feeling a wave of pride at the sight of him desperately begging to fill you with his hot fluids.

“Deal.” you whispered against his lips approvingly, as a sigh of relief hit faintly against your own skin. The idea of it seemed tempting enough— after all, you had to admit the thought of having his cum oozing out of you made your underwear become wetter.

As one o your hands fervidly caressed his chest, you sat properly enough to prepare yourself to ride him. Moving your sight downwards, your hands wasted no time in unbuttoning his trousers, and immediatly lowering them. The sweet sight of his prominent erection brought pure satisfaction to you— teasingly using your fingers to slip them under the waistband of his boxers, and slowly lower them.

“I will never get tired of seeing you so desperate to bury your cock inside of me, gorgeous.” you teased, finally lowering his underwear enough for his erection to be freed from being painfully strained against the clothing, with precum already leaking from the tip. “Don’t tease, please.” he begged, observing how you removed your own panties in the slowest manner possible, only to throw them somewhere across the room and leave them long forgotten.

Widely spreading your legs, you aligned your own aching pussy with his hardened cock. Firmly brushing the entrance of your cunt against his leaking tip, lubricating it slightly with your moistness, your eyes moved their sight towards his own. “Don’t worry, my sweet love. I won’t be teasing much.” you mumbled, gasping softly as his hands held a tight grip on your waist. “I plan on fucking you until I can fully dry out your cock.”

Gently, your hips moved downwards. A groan deeply escaped from your throat as his cock began entering you. His rosy lips were partly open, allowing a satisfied gasp to escape from them as his head was thrown back— fluttering his eyes shut, his hips moved upwards while his hands guided your own to bury himself deeper. The feeling of your inner walls engulfing his own member was something Fran could never get bored of.

“Fuck,” you heard the blonde Argentine muttering. Countless of times you had him fucking you fervently in every corner of the room, in every position you could imagine— yet, every time where Fran fucked you again, it managed to be even better than the last time. Gods, your cunt felt almost like a pool from all the wetness dripping; helping him slide his cock inside you more easily, working as a lubricant.

Another groan spurred helplessly from your lips, reaching all the way down his cock, now throwing your own head back from the overwhleming wave of pleasure you received. The way you took the entirety of his shaft could be considered a grace to the sight. “You are such a fucking whore, aren’t you?” Fran remarked, beginning to slowly slide in, and out of your pussy. “Taking my cock so well, like a good slut.”

As one of his hands kept itself gripping hard from your waist, his other hand moved upwards towards one of your breasts, which moved along your own body while you rode him— lowering part of your bra to expose your tit, he took it into his hand, and began gropping it possesively as his shaft increased the pace in which it penetrated you, occasionally passing his thumb through your nipple to stimulate you further. “But you are my good slut, and no one will ever fuck you as I do.”

With each passing second, his cock began burying itself deeper and faster inside of you, provoking a fleshy sound to be hard across the room, hitting that certain soft spot that made whiny pleas escape from your lips so beautifully. His name was faintly heard under your breath, continously moaning it as your legs began trembling. Francisco knew exactly the spot where you were the most sensitive, and he would endlessly abuse it.

“Fuck—” you growled in between your teeth. Both your hands rested on his chest, seeking some sort of balance, nearly clawing at his remaining clothes, as his slick-coated cock increased the pace in which it slipped in and out of your stimulated pussy. A knot slowly formed on your stomach with the passing of the time, while your body violenty trembled. A proud grin occupied his lips at the sight of you nibbling on your lowr lip, holding back soft grunts and pants.

“Mine, all mine. Right?” he teased in between his panting, using his thumb to lazily caress your hip. “A-All yours,” you replied back weakly, helplessly allowing some slightly high-pitched whines to escape. With each hit that your inner soft spot received, the feeling of the knot increased, tightening on your stomach. This man had the ability of nearly making you melt above him with each one of his words, his groans, moans, and his actions. You were quite privileged, knowing all of his attention could only go to you.

“I-I’m about to cum,” you heard him murmur between his grunts, barely being able to mutter a coherent response due to your own mind fog from the sexual act. You could feel his cock beginning to twitch inside of you as his movements became swifter; your inner walls warmly tightening around his member.

His other hand went back again to taking hold of your hip, and you knew that from the way both hands gripped your hips to move you up and down his cock, you would have some bruises.

A wave of heat tightened your chest as your body became weaker, practically allowing Fran to move you in whichever way pleased him, while your continously dripping slick managed to coat his shaft entirely. His fingernails dug deep on your skin as his hips slightly moved upwards, and his hands forced your body all the way down his cock, keeping you still— feeling the way it violently pulsated inside of you, his cum brought a warm sensation to your stomach.

Throwing your head back as you felt the knot on your stomach abruptly untightening, while his cum simultaneously filled your insides, from your lips spurred a — rather loud — groan, deep from your throat; the same sound the Argentine made as he released his seed in you. You could get used to the pleasant feeling of his fluids staining your inner walls, thank God you had agreed to it.

While his hands firmly continued to hold your hips, allowing his head to fall against the mattress to rest, you remained quietly still on top of him, not getting off just yet. The only sound that filled the room was that of both your panting, trying to catch your breath. Your hands and legs equally trembled, feeling your heart pounding loudly against your chest.

There was no doubt Fran was your favourite client— each time he gave you a visit, you felt exhaustingly pleased. You were left needing for more, almost as if it were impossible for you to want to let him go.

Helplessly, you gently collapsed against his body. Both your arms were lazily wrapped around him, placing your head against his chest. His fluids oozed out of your pussy slowly, sliding through your inner thighs, as his cock remained buried inside of you. With one last heavy pant, his green eyes looked down at you.

One of his hands rested on your back, using his fingertips to trace mindless shapes on your skin, as his other hand went to delicately stroke your hair. “Hope you enjoyed that, mi amor?” he inquired softly, as you kept quietly panting. You scoffed in response— what a silly question, you enjoyed every single one of his frequent visits. The mere thought of not clinging to his side throughout the whole day lately seemed dreadful. “Have I ever not enjoyed anything you do to me?” you retortes playfully, earning a chuckle from him.

A brief moment of silence loomed between the two of you. Your eyes fluttered shut peacefully, enjoying how lovingly his fingers twirled strands of your hair, and caressed your head. A little smile grew back on his lips, before interrupting the silence, looking down at you, resting your gracefully delicate body against his own.

“Would you be up to a second round if I paid you extra, sweet love?”

Moving your head to stare attentively into his light green eyes, you widely grinned back. Then again, what a silly question. How could you ever deny any of his tempting proposals?

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