#Stripper!reader

[starboye]

stripper!reader x rafe cameron

rafe cameron aka your most loyal customer, when he came in the club you knew immediately he wanted you to put on a private show for him, taking him to an expensive but private room where he threw cash on you as you gave him a lap dance

he usually came over after a hard day or if he needed some sexual relief or even just someone to talk to, and trust with a pretty thing like you always caring for him he always leaves a wealthy tip (in the form of cash or his cock slamming in and out of you)

and when he does fuck you he fucks you good, leaving your legs shaking and your mind turned to mush, sometimes if he feeling rather appreciative or he just closed a big deal he'll fuck you in a bed of money

the romance never leaves the club though, no matter how many times he's asked to take you on a date you always tell him no because you don't mix pleasure with business

sometimes he'll call you over to his place if he doesn't feel like going all the way across the cut just to see your pretty face, and you usually wake up in the morning with hickeys on your neck and wrapped in his blankets

because in rafes words "it's not safe to drive in the dark after getting fucked so well" and as much as he tries to seem like a fuckboy who doesn't care he still makes you breakfast in bed like a loverboy (he's really fighting for that date huh)

kinda loosely based off anora (i was just thinking of it while writing this)

[rafesbabyg1rl]

Private Session

Part one, Part Two , Part Three

Summary: Rafe likes to watch reader while she works as a stripper. He asks for a private session in which he'll pay a large amount for her time. Rafe takes her home and uses her however he pleases.

Pairings: Stripper!Reader X obsessive!Rafe

Warnings: Rafe is obsessive of reader. Reader is a stripper. Mention of drugs (Rafe does coke), Rafe's an ass, choking, p in v, unprotected sex, bondage, language, slight degradation, slight praise, oral (both m and f receiving), fingering. SMUT SMUT SMUT!

Word Count: 5.9k

Author Note: Hey babes! I got this idea from this GIF , like just imagine he's sitting in the strip club throwing dollar bills at you like that. UGH I need him so bad. But anyways, this fic is NOT fully proofread for errors, and I was a little fried while writing this and it's literally almost 3 am right now, but I wanted to get this posted. If you see any errors please feel free to correct me kindly! Thanks!

I promise I will work on The Watcher; I just got a bit stuck. Thank you guys for reading, I hope you enjoy! I love you all and stay freaky!

Credits: GIF from this post

You don’t hate your job, but it’s definitely not the most respected profession out there. You can’t really hate the one thing that makes you money, pretty damn good money too. What can you say, you’re good at your job. You do however hate the assholes who come in nearly every night just to get on your nerves, well more like asshole. 

Rafe Cameron loves to come in and watch you. He’ll stare for hours, just admiring you. Sometimes he’s with a few other guys from figure eight, but usually comes in alone. Honestly it’s when he comes in alone that he’s really bad. Since he can direct all his focus on you shamelessly. Rafe’s especially awnry when Barry, your boss, comes to hang out with him. Your boss is normally quite fair when it comes to his dancers; always making sure they’re not being mistreated by customers. But Rafe? Rafe has a free pass to do whatever the hell he wants to whoever. And unluckily for you, you seem to be the only one of Barry’s girls that he’s interested in. He never does so much as look at any of the other dancers when you’re around, he only cares about you. You thought it was flattering at first, but now it’s just weird.

When you see him come in tonight you sigh, still keeping up your performance on stage. God, it’s definitely going to be a long night. You’ve already had enough crap for the day, now for Rafe Cameron to waltz into the club when you’re only halfway through your shift, this is just great. God must really have it out for you.

Rafe hadn’t known you were working tonight, so he’s pleasantly surprised when he sees you on your stage as he walks to the back room to find Barry. Once he disappears into the back room with Barry, you forget about him and continue on with your routine per usual. 

A while later, you see Rafe finally emerging from the back room, making his way back through the crowd of horny, drunk men and topless women. You see him shove a small bag into his pocket as he walks into view. His demeanor is different now; even cockier than before, if that’s possible. And his eyes are bloodshot, pupils extremely dilated. 

Just keep walking. You think to yourself as you collect bills from your stage floor. Just keep walking.

But of course, Rafe stops near the front end of your stage, taking a seat. He gets comfortable, slouching back in his chair, his legs spread wide and his arms crossed over his chest as he stares up at you.

You try not to let your annoyance show as you continue dancing. Rafe watches you silently; occasionally tossing $1’s and $5’s onto the stage; only sticking to the small bills for now. Not because he’s cheap, but because he likes to take his time; build it up over time. He only throws a few at a time, so he can watch you bend over and pick up the cash however many times he wants.

You lean down to pick up the newest bills he just tossed down for you. You look at him, flashing him a flirty smile as you do with all paying customers. He shoves his wallet back into his jeans and looks up, making eye contact with you. He flashes a smirk that’s almost…charming? But, you know better than to fall for that. No matter how pretty he is, you know better.

A bit later, you take a short break from the pole to make your rounds around the club and see if you have any customers interested in your services. You hate it when it’s busy. Well, stripper you loves it when it’s busy because it means more money. But you, you hate the loud crowds of drunken perverts and frat boys; you felt so exposed. Which, you should because you’re hardly wearing anything. But, you just feel too vulnerable. You liked the calmer nights when the crowd was smaller; you feel more in control that way. And fuck is it packed tonight. You can barely move through the people, and you can hardly hear anything besides the loud music and obnoxious cat calls. This is why you don’t usually work on saturday nights; you’re just doing one of the other girls a favor and covering her shift. 

Accidentally, you bump your shoulder into somebody while on your way back to the stage. You don’t think anything of it and just keep walking until you feel a hand on your wrist. Immediately you turn back, pulling your wrist away. You’re not surprised to find that it was Rafe you had bumped into you. 

“Hey, y’think I can get a private show?” He asks, his emotions unclear as he steps closer so he can hear you. 

“Sorry sir, no rooms are available.” You say with a sensual laugh and a bright smile, no matter how badly you want to just roll your eyes and walk away. But you can’t. You must remain professional. Rafe bites his lip, taking yet another step closer. He leans in to whisper into your ear. 

“That’s not what I mean.” He keeps his mouth next to your ear.” You can hear his breathing as you think of a response. 

“Can’t, sorry. I don’t do that, I’m not a fucking hooker.” You bite back, beginning to walk away again.

But Rafe quickly retorts, “doesn’t matter, both mean you’re just a fucking slut. Fuckin’ whore.” He spits. He tries to grab your wrist again and fails, grabbing your hand instead. He lets out a jagged breath, tugging you closer. “Come on. I’ll give you one thousand for two hours.” You’re shocked at his generosity, but like you said, you’re not a hooker. You don’t sell that part of you. Especially not to this asshole. 

You don’t get the chance to respond before Barry is walking over to the two of you. “There a problem?” You sigh a breath of relief when Rafe drops your hand. But when you look at Barry, you realize he’s not asking you.

“Yeah, this fuckin’ bitch don’t know how to listen.” Rafe gestures to you.

Barry nods, taking in Rafe’s words. He steps over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder and leading you a few steps away to talk to you. “What's he want?” Your boss asks, trying to gauge the situation. It doesn’t help that he’s also been doing some lines in the back room.

“He wants to take me home. I told him I’m not a hooker.” You explain, hoping he’ll side with you.

“Well maybe for tonight you are. You know why that is, sweetheart?”

You look down as you speak. “‘Cause we listen to what Mr. Cameron says.” You recite his rule. 

“One night, just go with him. I bet he’ll pay big.” Barry pleads, not really giving you much option. 

You argue, “Yeah, and you’re just gonna take 50%.” 

“How ‘bout this. You listenin’?” You nod, looking up at him as he speaks. “You do this, you get to keep 75%.”

You think for a moment before responding. “Seventy-five percent of all my earnings.” You demand, causing Barry to chuckle. 

Barry knows you’re stubborn, and he knows he can’t legally force you to go with Rafe. So hesitantly, he gives in and accepts your deal. “Fine, fine ‘aight, seventy-five percent of everything you make.” 

You reach out to shake his hand. He holds onto it for a moment longer than is necessary, looking into your eyes, smiling a grimy smile; his gold tooth shining as the low club lighting hits it just right. “Now go get to fuckin’”, he laughs, letting go of your hand. You roll your eyes and as you turn your back to him he gives you a slight nudge back towards Rafe’s direction. 

Re-approaching Rafe, you compose yourself. “One thousand for one hour.” You negotiate, your expression making it clear that you won’t be taking no for an answer. You know he has the money, and he’s clearly willing to spend it on you.

Rafe takes his bottom lip in between his teeth, attempting to contain his amused smile. “That wasn’t the deal.” He takes a step towards you. Your demanding expression doesn’t falter as you continue to stare at him silently. He huffs out a chuckle, nodding his head and licking his bottom lip. “Okay, fine. One thousand for one hour of your time. But, anything that goes over an hour is free. And trust me, you’re gonna be begging for more.” 

“Right, sure I will.” You say sarcastically.

Rafe ignores your words. “So do we have a deal?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Deal.”

Rafe wastes no time in taking your hand, leading you to the back room. You pass by the private rooms, seeing that one had opened up. You stop walking, making Rafe look back at you with a confused expression, waiting for your reason.

“There’s a room open…” You speak, looking over at the open door.

“I already told you, not here. That’s not what I’m paying for.” Rafe turns, pulling you behind him. He leads you into the back room, waiting for you to get your stuff from your locker. You slip some clothes over your lingerie, not wanting to go outside nearly naked. After grabbing your bag, you follow Rafe out the back door and to his truck. 

His demeanor seems to be more neutral now, rather than being plain mean. Nervously on the drive over to figure eight, you spew out words. “I don’t usually do this.” You say, looking over at Rafe. Rafe doesn’t bother looking at you, he just stares straight out at the road in front of him. You can tell he doesn’t believe you. “Really. I never go home with random guys like this. I never even have se–”. You cut yourself off, already having spilt too much. You curse yourself. 

When you’re working, you can keep a strong, dominant attitude and be more confident because it’s all just a part of your character. You can be anyone on stage, you don’t have to be yourself. But as soon as you’re outside of the club, you’re just an anxious fucking mess. Which probably has to do with why you hardly have a sex life. 

Rafe looks over to you, occasionally glancing back out at the road. His expression almost makes it seem like he’s actually listening to you; like he cares. You shake that thought out of your head and try to remind yourself that he doesn’t care about what you’re saying, he’s just paying you for sex. 

“Wait, so you’re saying that you’re a stripper and a virgin?” He asks, his eyes narrow with confusion, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

You laugh. “No! I never said I was a virgin.” You explain.

Rafe smiles when he hears you laugh, not being able to keep his eyes off of your beautiful smile. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you laugh before. A real laugh, not the fake, flirty ones you flash to the guys at the club while working. It’s one of the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard.

“So, what then?” He genuinely asks. You’re shocked with the amount of effort he seems to be putting into this conversation, you never took him for much of a talker. 

“I don’t know…I just don’t get many chances I guess.” You say honestly, unsure why you’re sharing this with him of all people. You hate him.

“Bullshit.” Adds Rafe. “You’re a stripper.”

“Okay yeah, I’m a stripper, but that’s ‘cause I need the money. I don’t go home with the guys from the club, well…usually.” You pause for a moment. “...that’s just my job. Outside of the club I get to be myself…and I don’t know, it’s just different.”

“You’re afraid people won’t like who you really are?” His words take you by surprise, making your words get stuck in your throat.

You eventually manage to choke out a response. “Yeah, I…I guess so.” Rafe just nods. Not wanting to admit it, but he gets what you mean. You both sit in a comfortable silence the rest of the way to his place.

Arriving at Tanneyhill, Rafe parks the truck in his driveway and he quickly hops out, rounding the front of the truck and opening your door, allowing you to step out. He leads you up to the front door, grabbing his keys from his pocket and unlocking it, following you inside before shutting the door behind you two. 

You take a few steps down the hall, observing the room around you. Now that you’re seeing his home, you wish you tried to get even more money out of him. “C’mon”, he mumbles from behind you. Rafe grabs your duffel bag from you and walks in front of you, leading you upstairs to his bedroom. He sets the bag on a small couch in his room, turning around to look at you. He looks you up and down, admiring your body. His skin crawls with anticipation of what’s to come. He’s finally gonna get to do all the things he’s been dying to do to you since the first time he saw you at the club.

Rafe moves to sit on the bed, patting his lap without saying another word. You know what he wants. Slowly you make your way over to him, straddling his lap so that you’re facing him; your knees on the bed on either side of his legs. For a brief moment, you both stare at each other, getting momentarily lost in one another’s eyes. 

Carefully he places his hand on your face, cupping your jaw. His movements are slow and calculated as he leans in, enveloping your lips with his own. The kiss is slow and tender, everything you weren’t expecting. 

You pull back just enough to look over at the clock on his nightstand, noting the time in your head. You breathlessly mutter to him, “your hour starts now.” You can see him staring at your lips and without warning he leans in, kissing you. This time, he’s not being so gentle. 

Things escalate quickly; clearly he doesn’t want to waste any time with you. Rafe stands up, holding you while not breaking the kiss, he turns the two of you around and lays you on your back, crawling over you. His lips leave yours as he starts to kiss and suck at your neck, eventually finding your ear. Rafe takes your ear between his teeth, gently nipping at it. The feeling of his teeth grazing your skin sends a chill throughout your body. 

He gently whispers, “I’m gonna do what I want, but you just tell me if it’s too much, alright? Let me know if you want me to stop.” He presses a soft kiss to your ear as you nod.

“Mhm.” You mumble, acknowledging his words.

“No.” He shakes his head, “Say it.”

You oblige, looking at him as you speak. “I’ll tell you to stop if I need to.”

Rafe smirks. “Good girl.” He wastes no time before his lips come crashing onto yours again; somehow even more passionately than the last. 

A soft moan escapes your lips, only making him get even rougher. He kisses you sloppily, his tongue making sure to explore every bit of your mouth. He hovers over you, one hand pressing into the mattress beside your head, holding himself up. And with his free hand, he begins to slide off your shirt. 

You try to help him get you out of your shirt by maneuvering yourself around as best you can underneath him. Once your shirt is off, very little is left to the imagination in your work top, which is just a very lacy piece of lingerie. His hand then works at the button on your shorts, once he’s got that undone he starts tugging them off of you, tossing it to his floor. Once you’re in your little work ‘outfit’, he takes a moment to admire you up close. 

He’s seen you in skimpy little things like this before, he needs to see the rest of you; all of you. He starts to try and get you out of your lingerie, but there’s too many straps and clips, he can’t get you out of it quick enough. He starts to get frustrated, pausing your kiss as he leans back trying to get a good look at what he’s working with. Rafe’s impatience gets to him and he mumbles a quick “fuck this” just before ripping the thin fabric right off of you. 

You let out an involuntary gasp, causing him to look at your face which has an annoyed expression. This was one of your new outfits for work and he just ruined it. 

He leans in and presses a soft, wet kiss to your slightly parted lips. “Calm down, I’ll pay for it.” You don’t get a change to respond before he’s pulling the damaged fabric off of you, tossing it onto the floor as well. “Fuuckk, baby.” He mutters, running his free hand down your bare skin, tracing the shape of you as he admires your bare body. “Oh my god,” he whispers, almost inaudibly. “So fucking beautiful.” His mouth finds your chest, immediately latching onto one of your nipples; he sucks at it until he eventually pulls off to give attention to your other breast. His eyes are trained up on you, watching as your head tilts back in pleasure. 

Rafe pulls his mouth off with a pop! He stands up from the bed, walking over to his dresser. He opens up the top drawer, taking something out and coming back to you. You see a bundle of rope in his hands, your eyes widen in surprise. You hadn’t expected to be into all that. He really had this planned out. Your excitement builds; the wetness between your legs growing. Rafe sees the thoughts going on in your head.

He tries to reassure you, “relax, it’s fine, m’gonna take real good care of you baby.” He instructs you to scoot up towards the headboard of his bed. Quickly and skillfully, he ties your wrists to the bed, making sure it’s not tight enough to cause pain and not loose enough for you to slip out. You’re not sure how you feel about being tied up and against your will, it definitely leaves you very vulnerable; very out of control. However, for some reason you feel like you can almost trust him. Because so far, since leaving the club, he’s been very tentative and reassuring, even gentle at times. Which is not at all what you had expected from Rafe Cameron. 

Soon, his mouth is on you, his tongue lapping up your arousal. You struggle against your restraints, feeling like you need to grip onto something. Your hips try to run from him, only causing him to grab ahold of your thighs, keeping you in place. 

“F-fuuck…” You whine.

Rafe mumbles against your cunt and you can feel the vibrations in your core. As his tongue fucks you ruthlessly, you find it hard to keep quiet, a sea of moans escaping from your lips.

“Feel good, hm? You like that?” You pout at the loss of his mouth on you, causing him to chuckle before resuming his actions. His tongue circles your clit, only stopping to suck on it. The heat is building in your lower stomach, almost getting unbearable.

“Ohhh…shitshitshitshitshit” You almost scream. “Fuck! Oh fuck Rafe. Please, please don’t…don’t stop.” Rafe pulls back, “told you you’d be begging.” Your hips buck up, chasing after his mouth, missing the feeling of his tongue. But ultimately, Rafe obeys, his mouth continuing its ministations on you. He adds a finger to the mix, slowly tracing up and down your entrance as he sucks at your clit. He slides his long digit inside of you without warning, thrusting it in and out, curling it up to hit the spongy spot deep inside you. “Fuck,” You cry. “I…fuck. G-gonna cum, Rafe!” Your wrists tug against the rope; hurting just a bit, making you whimper in pain. Though you’re distracted by the feeling of your orgasm creeping in. 

Rafe hears your cry and he can tell it’s different from your other moans. His head snaps up from between your legs, making you miss his warm, wet mouth on you. He continues his earlier actions, adding a second finger in you, trying to stretch you out as much as he can; to prepare you for him. Your legs wrap around his head as the barrier in your stomach finally breaks, letting your excruciatingly good orgasm wash over you.

He slowly works you down from your high, pulling his fingers out from you, making you squeeze around nothing, your body hating the absence of him. His tongue continues to lap up all your juices. Then he begins to kiss his way back up your body. When he meets your lips, he kisses you tenderly again, letting you taste yourself on his lips. While kissing you, his hands work on freeing your wrists. He sees the red marks they had left, feeling proud yet also feeling a bit bad for causing you pain. “You did so good…” He praises.

You tug his shirt up over his head and run your hands down his toned chest, still attempting to catch your breath from earlier. Then you work at his belt, tossing it aside and pulling off his pants, also tossing them aside. Now that he’s left in just his boxers, you sit up. You get Rafe to lay down where you had been. Using the same rope to tie his wrists to the bed; though you’re not too confident in your knot-tying abilities and you’re unsure if it’ll be able to contain him. 

“W-what are you doing?” He asks almost nervously. Rafe hadn’t been expecting for you to take charge of him, usually that doesn’t happen to him. He pulls against his restraints a bit, quickly finding out the pain that comes with. 

“Shh…relax, it’s fine.” You recite to him. He smirks, recognizing his own words.

“Fuckin’ brat.” He spits, trying to seem upset, although he really just thinks it’s the hottest fucking thing ever. 

You travel down his body, straddling his legs as you start to slowly pull his boxers off of him. Rafe’s hard cock springs out, shooting up into the air. You gasp at the sight. You can see why he’s always so cocky now, it’s because he’s got the means to back it up. 

Your hands find him, gently stroking his cock. Rafe’s head tips back, his eyes shutting in pleasure for a moment. Quickly, he’s watching you again, not wanting to miss the sight of this. Slowly, you put your mouth onto him. Rafe tries to remain in control by bucking his hips up off the bed, shoving his cock deep down your throat, making you gag in response. You pull off of him for a moment and he chuckles. Knowing he has a limited time with you, you don’t wait too long before sinking your mouth back down on him. As your confidence builds, so does your pace. 

“Shiiitt baby, feels so fucking good.” He groans. Already, you can feel his dick twitching in your mouth, causing him to whine. Big, tough Rafe Cameron whining underneath you, completely at your mercy. He doesn’t seem so threatening now that you’ve seen him like this. “W-wait, wait baby, wait.” He manages, his words just spilling out. He struggles against his restraints some more before continuing. “Not yet; I don’t wanna cum yet.” You understand, pulling your mouth off of him. You move to undo his restraints, his mouth finding your tits as you lean over him to untie the rope. 

The second he’s free, you’re already somehow on your back with him on top of you. Rafe leans over you and you press open-mouthed, wet kisses all across his chest as he does so. He grabs something from his nightstand and when he pulls back you can see the small, shiny wrapper in his hand. Smart, a condom. You hadn’t even thought of that, but it was probably a good idea.

You place your hands over his, taking the condom from him. As fast as you can, you open it and reach down between you two, rolling it onto his cock until it reaches the base. He leans back down on top of you, kissing your neck and jaw. He whispers, “can I?”

You respond jokingly, “that’s what you’re paying for, isn’t it?” Rafe just stares at you, his expression showing his annoyance and frustration with you. Before he asks you to ‘say it’, you add to your previous statement. “Yes, Rafe. Fuck me.”

Rafe doesn’t need any further permission as he lines himself up with your cunt. He wishes he could feel your wetness on his skin, but he knew wearing a condom was the smart thing. Slowly, he presses in. Only entering you about two inches, letting you adjust to him before adding a few more inches. Slowly; inch by inch, Rafe enters you, eventually bottoming out. Rafe stays still for a couple moments until you give him a small nod. He moves his hips slowly, rocking in and out of you at a comfortable pace. Your hands wrap around him, hooking underneath his biceps. Your palms grip onto his back, your nails only slightly digging into his skin. His pace begins to pick up, getting loud moans and whines to come from you. 

“Mmmnn…nnhhgghh f-fuuckk, Rafe!” You cry out, a tear rolling down your cheek. 

The sight of your tear only turns him on more, in a dark and twisted way. He uses his thumb to wipe away your warm, salty tear off of your cheek. 

Despite his gentle touch, Rafe is now drilling into you without regard for your poor cunt. Shamelessly fucking you with a condom on. He looks at the sticky, white mess leaking from your perfect cunt; creating a slick film that coats his entire cock. He reaches out to grab you by your hair, forcing your neck down so that you’re looking at where you and him connect, “See that? That’s all you baby.” 

When you’re greeted with the sight of his entire length buried deep inside of you, your eyes begin to roll back as your next orgasm approaches. Rafe clicks his tongue at you, pulling entirely out of you. After a few moments without him inside of you, you immediately start to pout. A whine escapes your lips, “Rafe…”, your hips buck up, as if trying to draw his attention back to your needy cunt. 

A small, cocky grin spreads across his face at the sight. His grip tightens in your hair as he begins to tug, directing your gaze right where he wants it, on him. “You gotta fuckin’ see this, baby.” Rafe says proudly, looking back down at your messy pussy. Quickly, he thrusts back into you with force and you watch as your cunt swallows him whole. “See that? See what you do for me?” Rafe speaks in a tone that sounds as though he’s praising you, but he knows that your body has no other option than to take him. “See how fuckin’ well you take me? This pussy was fuckin’ made for my cock.” 

Rafe groans, pre-cum now leaking into the condom as his pace becomes sporadic. Still going through the aftershocks of your most recent orgasm, your cunt continues to squeeze tightly around him.

“Holy f-fuck.” Rafe stutters, his fingers moving to your clit, rubbing it in circles. His movements are getting sloppy, arithmetic as he tries to draw another orgasm from you before he finishes. “God fucking damn.” Rafe’s head tips back, you lean up to kiss his neck, occasionally nipping at it, your moans being muffled by him.  

Your third orgasm approaches, your entire body trembling as you shriek. “Rafe! Fuck, fuck, I-fuck!” Your screams become muted when he kisses you, shutting you up. Rafe’s own orgasm starts to creep in, his thrusts getting harder for a moment before he stills inside of you. You can feel his cock twitch, followed by the feeling of his hot cum as it fills the condom. He slowly moves, easing you both back down from your highs. Eventually, he pulls out of you, rolling off to the side and laying on his back beside you. 

You work on catching your breath as you turn your head to look over at the time; you have about fifteen minutes left with him. You don’t know what he has in store for you now, he’s already succeeded in making you cum three times within forty-five minutes. While he takes a moment to rest, you decide to get on top of him. You pull off his condom, tying the end of it in a knot. Without giving him any kind of warning, you put your mouth back on him, sucking his warm, sticky seed off of his dick. One of his large hands shoots up to hold the back of your head, pushing your mouth all the way down on him. You can feel his semi-hard cock already growing harder again. 

“S-shit, babe.” He groans, pulling you up, bringing your face to his and meeting you with another kiss, as if to thank you. 

You stand up, your legs shaky. You half walk, half stumble into the adjoining bathroom, tossing the condom in the trash. You make your way back to the bed, laying next to him. You turn your head to look at him. “What else can I do for you? Time’s almost up.” You ask softly. 

Rafe huffs, pissed off that you had to remind him that this isn’t real, he’s paying for this, for you. Without a word, he flips over on top of you, his hand wrapping around your throat. There’s something different about him now. His eyes; they carry a bit of darkness, his movements now rough and aggressive. He squeezes your neck lightly, making you gasp in surprise. “Rafe…”

“Shhh…you’re gonna take what I give you.” He squeezes tighter, making it harder for you to breathe, but not impossible. He leans down, kissing all over your neck and chest, leaving bites and bruises in his wake. You let out a small whine involuntarily; you can feel his touch throughout your whole body, like a jolt of electricity. “Shut up, whore.” 

Suddenly, Rafe’s thrusting into you again. But wait, he’s not wearing a condom. In your surprise, this way feels so much better. You can feel the warmth and smoothness of his cock as it easily slides in and out of you, making the most lewd noises. You try to speak, but his hand tightens around your throat one final time, actually making it impossible for you to breathe. He stares into your eyes, watching as your face turns red and your panic sets in. You put your hands on his arm, hitting and tugging on it. Just as your vision starts to go dark, he eases his grip. You gasp for air, taking in as much as you can while he continues his attack on your pussy. 

You’re about to see stars again for the fourth time tonight when he suddenly pulls out of you. You whine at the loss of him, frustrated that he denied you of your orgasm. Rafe rolls off of you, making your brows furrow in confusion. “What the fuck?” You question.

He looks over to the clock on his nightstand and you follow his gaze. “Time’s up.” He says plainly. You knew what he was doing. This sneaky motherfucker. He purposely got you to your climax right as the hour ended so you’d prove him right and beg for more; beg to let you cum one more time. As much as you wanted to prove him wrong and just leave, you need this, you need to feel him fill you up.

Before he can protest, you straddle his lap, sinking yourself down onto his cock. Immediately he groans, taking hold of your hips. He holds you still, not letting you move yet. “Knew you’d want more.” He says, now guiding you to grind on his dick, this new position lets him hit a new depth inside you. “M’not paying for this now.”

You don’t respond, instead using your energy to bounce up and down his length. Your climax is already near, your entire body shaking and spent from the past three orgasms he gave you. Rafe helps you out, his strong hand gripping onto you as he holds you up, drilling up into your cunt at a god-like pace. How is someone this talented, this fucking perfect, paying for sex? Surely he could get any girl he wants. Although you’re not complaining, four orgasms and a thousand dollars? How could it get any better than that? 

You yell out as the band in your stomach snaps, the pressure being relieved as a stream of your liquids squirt out of you, splashing onto his stomach, dripping down to his sheets underneath you both. You’re just as shocked as he is when this happens. You didn’t even know you could do that.

“Fuck,” Rafe growls, continuing to fuck up into your shaking body. Rafe doesn’t warn you before shooting his load into you. But the warmth and fulfillment of his seed feels too fucking good to be mad about. Slowly, you pull yourself off of him. He has to help lift you off of his cock since your body is completely spent. “You’re fucking amazing.” He presses a long, soft kiss to your head. 

After helping you clean up a bit, you change into your own clothes. Rafe drives you back to the club, the ride awfully quiet, both of you being too exhausted to talk. When you get there, he pulls his wallet out, grabbing out a large wad of cash and handing it to you. You quickly count it, and then recount it, when your results don’t change, you look up at him with furrowed brows. “That’s for being so fucking good.” Rafe had given you two thousand instead of one. This boosts your confidence a bit, an hour of sex with you is worth two thousand dollars? God, you should’ve fucked Rafe sooner. You get out of his truck and walk towards the club. Rafe speeds off out of the parking lot. 

It’s late, but Barry’s still here, though the crowd has definitely shrunken in the last hour. You walk in and find Barry in the back room. He laughs as he takes in your disheveled appearance; your hair and makeup are disastrous. 

“Looks like someone had a good time, huh? Now where’s my money?” He asks. You pull out the cash, counting 500 and tossing it to him. 

“There. That’s seventy-five percent of what I made.” You start to walk out. But his voice calls you back.

“Shit, you made two thousand in one hour just for fuckin’ him? You got some magic fuckin’ pussy or sum?” He laughs. “I might have to start sellin’ you out more, don’t I?”

Too tired to argue, you walk out. You don’t want to admit it, but you wouldn’t hate having to do that again with Rafe, whether it’s paid or unpaid.

Thank you for reading! I greatly appreciate it! PLEASE feel free to leave Rafe x reader requests!! I LOVE getting them!

[grimrulaa]

𝑰NTRODUCING .

𝒔tripper!reader x 𝒅ealer!chris

𝒑each — chris’ money. body glitter. heels && dunks. xl nails. leopard print. low rise jeans. whale tails. sugar baby vibes. ny (bronx) accent. hello kitty papers. strong scents. ‘i need you rn’ warrior. keeps his lighters in her back pocket.

𝒄hris — black cards. rolled blunts from peach, only baggy sweats and, wife beaters. LOVES peaches ass. practically peaches sugar daddy. lowkey toxic. hello kitty blunt papers just for her. dior sauvage. chrome hearts ring. her body glitter on his clothes.

[lostalioth]

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

[metyouinthehallway]

𝐋𝐚𝐩 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

Stripper!Reader gives Bartender!Chris a lap dance.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Sitting on the tufted barstool, you continuously swirl your cocktail. Watching as it tunnels in the glass, Chris pulls you out of your trance when he speaks.

“Looks like a lot more thinkin’ than drinkin’.” He pulls his mouth into a tight lipped smile, raising his brows at you.

The strip club was now vacant, other than the two of you and a few other girls cleaning up around the place. The rich purple and red hues casting a warm glow over you and Chris.

“Yeah, tonight wasn’t very good— money wise.” You exhale, letting the whirlpool of alcohol slowly come to a stop. Chris pours himself a glass of club soda, walking around to the other side of the bar and sitting next to you. “Club soda?” You question his drink choice.

“Mhm, I don’t drink.” He hums, nodding his head. Oh, the irony. A bartender who doesn’t indulge in the magic party juice. “Shit fucks you up. No offense to you, just… not my thing.” Chris explains himself, looking at you to ensure you didn’t take his comment as an insult.

You don’t. Actually, you understand why some people choose not to go out of their way to drink. But you? You’re a partier. Drinking, smoking, loud & obnoxious music. That’s your scene.

“None taken.” You sip the awkward tension that floats in the air away, biting the lemon wedge that hangs from the rim of your glass.

“Wasn’t that good of a night f’me either.” He looks around at the club. It was barely a mess, as if everyone disappeared. Not even a dozen men came in tonight and all of the dancers, including you, made just over one hundred dollars.

“So what? Should I make it a better night?” You ask him, a slight smirk pulling at your lips. Chris glares at you, a muscle twitching in his jaw as he does so.

“And how would you do that?” He leans his elbows against the bar top, turning to face you completely now. Sipping on your fruity drink, you communicate with your eyes.

“C’mon…” you stand, holding your hand out for him. He reluctantly takes it. Letting you lead him to one of the private rooms. You don’t notice it, but Chris is nearly sweating bullets. This was against all the club rules. He can’t help but eye you up and down, your skirt squeezing your curves, ass cheeks hanging out of the bottom of it. Your backless top showing off your shoulder blades.

“Sit.” You let go of his hand, gesturing to the suede couch in the dimly lit room. He nods, following your directions. His usual ‘tough’ persona faltering when he looks up at you.

A sultry beat starts to play throughout the speakers, you lean down, meeting his eyes. “You scared, bartender?” You smile. A genuine smile, not a fake performance smile. Chris feels a slight heat rise to his cheeks, a nervous lump forming in his throat. A completely unrelated bulge forming down south too.

“Little bit… but don’t worry ‘bout me. Do your thing pretty lady.” It’s barely a mutter. Is he allowed to touch you? Can he bare to look at you? Is this crossing a line? It certainly had to be.

“Well, you just tell me if you wanna stop, hm?” You reply with a hum, straddling his lap. You lower yourself just enough so he can feel your body heat but not completely sat on his lap, Chris’s eyes following your movements.

You run your own hands down your ribcage and down to your thighs, then back up. You can hear Chris let out a very subtle yet very frustrated groan. It’s clear he’s not sure what to do with his hands.

“You can touch me…” you lean in, your breath just barely grazing his earlobe. Chris lets out a sigh, his hands instinctually reaching for your hips. “You know, I don’t let anyone else touch me when I’m doing this.” Your voice is low, seductive even. Completely lowering yourself onto his lap, you roll your hips into his. Feeling just how much he’s absolutely loving this.

“R-really?” He tries to play it cool but there’s no hiding the fact that he’s completely and utterly in awe of you on top of him.

“Mhm… they don’t deserve to touch me.” His fingers dig deeper into your hipbones. A low grunt slipping past his lips. “You do though. Always so nice to me, hm?” You tease, running your hands up his chest and up to grip his shoulders.

“Just common courtesy. Respect, y’know?” His heart is pounding. You could practically see the cartoonish imprint of it beating in his chest.

“Really? This…” you grind against his hard length, your skirt riding higher up your thighs with each moment. “This doesn’t seem like respect.” Trailing your manicured nails to the nape of his neck, you run your fingers through his hair which causes him to buck his hips into yours.

You quite enjoy this actually. Not that you were dominant in bed- you were the complete opposite when you were off the clock. But being on the clock, getting paid to make men all flustered and nervous beneath you. It sends a jolt of electricity through your body each time.

“Eager, are we?” You breathe out, raising your self so you’re no longer sitting on his erection. Chris runs his hands up your body, his eyes burning holes into your chest which is only covered by a satin top that doesn’t leave much to the imagination as it’s all on show.

“Very,” Chris huffs, the room suddenly feeling much smaller than it did before. With you sat on his lap, he never realized just how much he needed you. And oh, did he need you.

“Why don’t you do somethin’ about it then?” You lean in, your lips hardly grazing his own and it’s the first time you’ve ever come in such intimate contact with him.

Chris hesitantly closes the distance between the two of you. It’s only a peck before he pulls away, gauging your reaction. You search his eyes, he’s doing the same to you, unspoken tension polluting the room.

Your lips curl into a smile before completely placing your weight on his lap and pulling him back in to your lips. Your hands rest on his t-shirt, his on the small of your back pulling you impossibly closer.

Other than the low hum of the music, the sound of lips smacking together and low groans bounce off the padded walls. Chris’s tongue glides over your bottom lip, his hand gripping your ass. “Are we really doing this?” He mutters against your lips. You can only hum in response, opening your mouth to allow him entry.

Chris wants to flip you over and take you right now on the small, ever uncomfortable conversation couch. But, this had already spiraled into a lewd scene for the workplace. He couldn’t do it. Not yet at least.

You regain your confidence, taking control, you lightly push him against the couch. Sucking and nibbling at his bottom lip to which Chris rolls your hips into his. The feeling of his jeans against his hard dick incredibly painful but oh, so pleasing.

You pull away, catching your breath. “Having a better night, bartender?” You ask as if nothing happened between the two of you just now.

“Much, much better. You?” Chris’s hands roam your body, resting back on your hips. You nod in response, getting up off of his lap. Your heels clicking against the tiled floor as you walk out of the room leaving Chris to wonder what the fuck had just taken place.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[rafesplaymate]

stripper reader and down baddd rafe like he spends all his money just to talk to her

these are my fav customers ngl …

Pathetic!Rafe x Stripper!Reader

ᡣ𐭩. ݁˖ . navigation. ᡣ𐭩. ݁˖ . masterlist.

warnings: sex work. slight smut. grinding. titty sucking. pathetic men.

a/n: need him like this.

. ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

He needs her.

So fucking bad, he can’t take it anymore.

He’s desperate to know her, touch her, have her near him. He doesn’t care if it’s pathetic, as long as she’s his for the night —that’s all he needs. But he so desperately wants her forever.

“You’re so fucking lame, you know that?” She tells him with a patronizing purr. Her plush thighs straddling him as she grinds herself against the throbbing bulge in his pants. Her barely there, exotic g-string barely covering the meal inbetween her legs. Rafe having undone her the strings of her top as her perfect tits sway sensually in front of his fucked-out face. His eyes glazed over with unadulterated lust as he succumbs to the goddess on top of him.

He’s sure this is sinful heaven.

The hot pink lights of the private room cast a sultry glow over them. Music playing lowly in the background as she slowly grinds to the tempo. Arms surrounding him as she grips the top of the cushioned seat. Her sweet, smelling perfume engulfing him in a scent that he’s come to associate with her only. Not worried about the body glitter she slathered on —dusting over his own body as well. A reminder she was there every time he goes home.

“You give me all your fucking money, just to get a chance to talk to me. It’s so sad.” She mocks, bending down to lick at the lobe of his ear before she bites it softly. His large hands tightening their grip on her hips, as his fingertips dig grape-sized bruises into them. His stringy hair a mess and pushed back, face flushed-red as he bucks his hips up against her. Pathetic moans falling from his lips.

“Yeah-yes! Fuck. Needed to know you, you’re-ah fuck-you’re all I think about.” He whimpers, eyes shutting tightly as she kisses down his neck. Biting softly, then licking a long stripe from his neck all the way to his chin. Dragging it across the bottom of his lip till she flicks it up sensually. Her eyes gazing down at him lustfully through faux lashes. Prompting him to open his eyes and look at her.

He’s staring at her like she’s his salvation.

A pathetic, trust fund brat who she wants to suck dry. Metaphorically and physically.

She lets out a soft purr as she grinds down on him harder, bringing a hand to grip his flushed face between her french-tipped nails and digging in —as she bites his plush bottom lip. Sinking her teeth in and pulling back till she lets it go; feeling his hips buck up once more as blood starts dripping from the wound she created. Throwing her head back as his bulge catches onto her clit, letting out soft whines from her glossy pout. Her hands coming to rest on his shoulders as she digs her nails in; grinding against him harder.

Rafe leans forward and catches one of her perked-up nipples in his mouth. His hands sliding up her back as he begins grinding up into her. Pulling her body toward him so he can worship the soft peaks with his swollen lips. Her desperate whines satisfying his need to please her entirely.

Desperate to make her happy.

She leans forward and runs her fingers through his hair; gripping it and tugging his head back till he drops her tit from his lips. A string of saliva connecting them as he whimpers up at her. A pitiful picture of desperation sitting right in between her legs.

She wants to wreak havoc on him.

“I’m gonna ruin your life.” She says as she smirks down at him, his head nodding as much as he can with the grip she has on his hair. Feeling his strong hands slide up her back and dragging his blunt nails down as begs her to give him everything. Letting out one last piteous plea…

“I’ll let you do whatever you want. Just as long as you become mine.”

. ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

[drtyelvisfantasy]

I was wondering what Rafe's reaction would be if Stripper!Reader died 😭

cw: death

when it comes to stripper!reader dying i think if two scenarios on how Rafe would react.

scenario 1: Before Rafe and stripper!reader have kids

I personally feel like Rafe would be devastated by her death. Even though he treated her like shit, he still loved her and felt a deep connection to her.

She made Rafe feel emotions he’d never experienced before. After losing her, he would feel completely lost—like he had nothing to look forward to anymore. When he was with her, life felt exciting. Every time they met, it was something new.

As for the funeral arrangements, Rafe considered cremation but ultimately decided on a burial. He knew the stripper!reader didn’t have many friends or a close relationship with her mother, so unfortunately, it was just him. It was a small funeral. He laid her to rest in a beautiful cemetery.

The grief was the hardest part. Rafe didn’t really have anyone to talk to about how he felt. He obviously couldn’t go to his wife—that would be a disaster. There were some things he kept of stripper!reader’s: her ring, a lock of her hair that he keeps in his wallet, and many other small mementos.

Sometimes, when Rafe is having one of those days where he misses her unbearably, he watches videos he took of her—just to hear her voice again. And he plays them over and over and over, just to feel something.

It took death for him to realize what he truly had.

scenario 2: After they had kids

In this case, Rafe’s main focus would be on the two children he had with stripper!reader.

He would have no choice but to come clean to Sofia about the affair—because that’s the only way he can truly protect his children. The last thing he wants is for them to end up in the system.

As for Sofia, she would have mixed emotions about the situation. One side of her would feel sadness, betrayal, and anger; the other side would feel empathy—both for stripper!reader’s children and for the two boys she shares with Rafe, who are now in their teens.

To be safe, Rafe would decide to get a divorce and move to Florida with Margaret and his son from the affair. He would do everything he could to make up for the years he spent being an emotionally absent father. From time to time, he’d make the effort to visit his other two boys back in the OBX.

It wouldn’t be an easy journey, but Rafe would try his absolute best to be the father his kids deserve.

[starlinggirll]

dilf!art x stripper!reader pt1 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

the first time he saw you he was hooked.

patrick had dragged him to a club after his retirement and divorce with tashi. he was hesitant on going, but he had been rotting in his house, alone. you were basically naked. thong not covering your ass at all, your top piece couldnt even contain your breasts either. your face had glittery make up that make you shine.

but what specially caught his eye was the man you were ontop of. he was ugly. ugly and he could tell he wasn't going to give you good money in exchange of your dance.

he turned to look at patrick but he was already getting danced on by another girl. he sighed, walking towards you. he was nervous, he didnt want to seem like a pervert, even tho he was going to basically give u money for a dance. he gently tapped your shoulder, gulping as your turned around to face him.

you had to tilt your head slightly to look up at him. you were surprised, very. he was tall, broad shoulders, neat button up, a gentle smile on his face. and the most important of all, he looked like he had alot of money. you smiled back, "yes? how can i help you with?" you said in the voice you use with all your costumers. except now your voice was sweeter. he was handsome and looked like he had money? yeah. he was your costumer. you

"i-i um-" he sighs, slightly embarrassed at his stuttering. "how much for a dance?" he mumbles, and you giggle. "that depends, clothes on or clothes off?"

his eyes widen slightly, he looks back at patrick and that's when he realizes the girl ontop of him is naked except for a thong. "oh um," he responds before taking out $400. "clothes on."

your eyes widen slightly, "it's usually only $200 i dont need-" "take it," he insists, softly grabbing your hand and placing the 4 hundred bills in it. you looked so beautiful in the lighting. too beautiful for a place like this.

"okay then, if you insist." you smile softly, grabbing his wrist and pulling him to one of the room where private sessions happen, "sit down." you press your hands on his chest, pushing down on the couch.

"so," you hummed as you straddled him. "what you work on?" you tilt your head to the side, grinding on him softly, hair falling to the side to reveal your neck.

his chest faltered slightly, you were so pretty, in such a horrible place. he could easily 'save you'. get you in his house, spoil you, treat you like you deserve. "i-im a retired tennis player." he mumbles, your eyes widen slightly as you realize. "no wayyy, you're Art Donaldson?" you giggle, smiling even more as you feel his hands shyly touch your thighs.

"yeah. in the flesh," he chuckles, gently caressing your thighs. "whatcha doing in a place like this, Mrs. Donaldson?" you tease. and god, he wishes he had the balls to ask you the same question. "me and my wife got divorced a few months ago, my friend thought going out would be good for me."

"divorced, huh?" you gently rubbed your chest against him before getting off him. "well, since you paid such a generous tip, i dont mind breaking a few rules for you." you winked, slipping your thong down to your knees.

he wanted to stop you, but he wanted it. plus, he could be one step closer to convince you go to his house. not for sex, but for you to experience how to be truly taken care of.

you pressed you ass against his groin, grinning as you arched your back and grinding against him at a measured pace. his hands gently grasped your hips, after a few seconds he stops you. "d-do you want to go back to my place?" he mumbles.

he can already imagine you, sleeping in his shirt, getting held in his arms as you sleep peacefully in his big bed. away from the men in here, away from all the perverts that want to put their hands on you. he doesn't know why he feels a big sense of protection over you, he just does.

"um what?" you laugh nervously, turning to look at him with raised eyebrows. ah, right. "ill give u another $500 dollars if you go to my place." he frowns very slightly. "1k. if you go to my house."

after a few seconds of thinking about it you nod. "yeah, yeah sure."

he lets out a sigh of relief as he stands up, even tho he knows you're mostly doing it for the money. his hand wraps around your waist and he pulls the thong back up. "ill see you outside, yeah?" you nod. gulping as his big strong hands give your thighs a little squeeze.

he walks out, and you're left standing alone with a tinge of nervousness and also a tinge of excitement. biting your bottom lip, you scatter out of the room to your locker to change.

[bxnfire]

Passion’s Stage || Toji Fushiguro

✎ synopsis: ever thought of how it’d be like to be toji’s stripper girlfriend?

✎ content/warnings: minors dni, afab!reader, smut, p in v, fingering, masturbation, possessiveness, oral (f. receiving), stripper club, mature themes, established relationship

✎ a/n: i was just thinking of this earlier today and i made a little drabble!! enjoy <3

boyfriend!toji who after a long day of work goes into a strip club with shiu kong to unwind, and as soon as he steps into the establishment he makes eye contact with you as you do a split getting off the pole, and his eyes never leave you since

boyfriend!toji who catches your attention, and as a part of the show, you walk towards him and dance on his lap, and he wastes no time in asking for your name and writing his phone number on a $50 bill

boyfriend!toji who gets hard just watching you from afar for the rest of the night, and who waits til you get off to take you home

boyfriend!toji who doesn’t know your last name yet but he knows where your g-spot is after barely making it to your couch. surely after such a successful shift you deserved to get paid by his fingers deliciously and relentlessly curling into you as he sucked your tits

boyfriend!toji who has you bent over and screaming his name from a few strokes, his hand on your neck while his other one is busy against your lower abdomen as his index finger expertly rubs your clit in circles while fucking you rough

boyfriend!toji who fucks you through your orgasm and paints your insides white to make sure you know who you belong to from now on

boyfriend!toji who cleans his cum off your pussy by fingering it out of you, if he ends up eating you out to lick it all clean then just know it was for the best! lapping up your lips, sucking your clit, and shoving his tongue in are only part of the process of course. riding out your orgasm on his tongue replaces his juices with yours just as he wanted

boyfriend!toji who holds you close after tough nights, and always reassures you that he’s proud of you no matter what

boyfriend!toji who beats up anyone who dares disrespect you in any way

boyfriend!toji who still comes in to see your show, happy to see you wear the lingerie he’s carefully picked out for you

boyfriend!toji who gladly boasts to shiu how hot his girlfriend is, knowing he wishes he was in toji’s place

boyfriend!toji who gets private shows at home, promising that he’ll fuck you as you want if he can cum just by watching your performance

boyfriend!toji who masturbates his fat cock watching you dance for him, pretty red tip leaking precum as his hand works himself up quickly, quickly shifting from base to tip while playing with his balls

boyfriend!toji who cums over and over from the mere sight of you and is still rock hard

boyfriend!toji who makes it a goal to cum on your panties before you perform knowing that when you’re being a little “shy” while performing tonight it’s because if you mess up, his cum will roll down your thigh

boyfriend!toji who takes care of your bruises and cramps after work

boyfriend!toji who gets a preview of any new choreography, which, of course, always ends up in you jumping on his dick

boyfriend!toji who doesn’t mind if others look, because in the end, he’s the only one who gets to touch

boyfriend!toji who always supports you no matter what, after all, he knows how to fight!

[rafesbabyg1rl]

Private session part2 is needed!! We all know Barry can be a dick head and he actually considers adding the having sex with a stripper option to customers when y/n finds out about this she obviously mad and saying no but when rafe finds outs about this he’s obviously mad and goes to Barry pissed saying wtf is this he obviously dose not want y/n to have sex with anyone else but him

Private Session - part two

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Summary: Rafe likes to watch reader while she works as a stripper. He asks for a private session in which he'll pay a large amount for her time. Rafe takes her home and uses her however he pleases. When he finds out Barry has been selling you to customers, he gets jealous, insisting that you must not sleep with anyone else.

Pairings: Stripper!Reader X obsessive!Rafe

Warnings: Rafe is obsessive of reader. Reader is a stripper. Mention of drugs (Rafe and Barry do cocaine), bondage (reader is tied up), p in v, unprotected sex, language, SLIGHT degradation, praise, oral (f receiving), fingering. SMUT SMUT SMUT!

Word Count: 4.8k

Author Note: Hey babes! I got this idea from this GIF , like just imagine he's sitting in the strip club throwing dollar bills at you like that. This fic is NOT proofread, it's almost FIVE AM and I have school tomorrow, well, today I guess...UGH. I just got this request and had to write this!! Also thank you all for the support on part one?!?!?! That's INSANE, I love you guys! I wanted to get this out asap for y'all. Sorry if it's actually shit, I'm so tired and also high. If you see any errors please feel free to correct me kindly! Thanks!

I promise I will work on The Watcher; I just got a bit stuck. Thank you guys for reading, I hope you enjoy! I love you all and stay freaky!

Credits: GIF from this post

Some time has passed since your ‘private session’ with Rafe. The first time you’d come back to work after your session with Rafe, Barry had talked to you at the beginning of your shift. Apparently, after seeing how much Rafe paid you for just one hour alone with him, Barry was inspired. He had told you that the club will now be providing a new “service” to well-paying customers. Customers now have the option to have sex with the dancers for the right price. Barry knew better than to sell his girls out for cheap, so the cost is rather high. And there’s typically only two types of men that have both the means and the money for it: the rich, old sugar daddies who probably can’t even get it up on their own and the rich, horny assholes of the island, take Rafe for example. 

When Barry had told you this, you were pissed. This was not in your job description; you’re a stripper not a hooker. You wanted to yell at him and quit. The issue is that when you got this job, you had signed a contract with Barry stating that you’d have to work there for at least a year or else you’d have to pay a fee. Knowing Barry, it’s a ridiculously large fee, ensuring that no one quit before their year was up. And it’s likely that the contract he made you sign isn’t even legal. But you're not going to try and find out, knowing that even if it’s not, that doesn’t matter to Barry. He’ll make you pay. And you don’t have that kind of money, that’s why you’re in this position in the first place.

Over the next few weeks, you’ve noticed that Rafe hasn’t been coming in as much. Not while you’re working at least. The few times he has come in, he hasn’t been alone, always coming in with a few other kooks and barely paying any attention to you. Which is definitely not normal for Rafe. You just assume that since he’s had you now, he’s lost his interest. You expected that you’d be relieved when he finally stopped watching you like prey, but now you’re not exactly sure what you feel. Does he not find you attractive anymore? Did he just lose interest after finally getting what it is that he had craved for so long? God, was it just you; did he see who you really are and run in the opposite direction? You knew that whole experience with him was too good to be true.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts as you hear the door to the back room open. Quickly, you grab one of the dresses hanging in your locker and slip it over you; it’s what Barry told you to wear over your lingerie when you do at-home sessions with clients. You turn, watching as your boss and none other than Rafe Cameron stumble in through the door. Rafe goes quiet, his expression going dead as he lays eyes on you. 

“Lookin’ good”, Barry whistles. “Where you headed, princess?” He asks as he turns away from you, sitting on a chair. Barry leans back in his seat, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small baggie full of white powder. You’ve always ignored his side business, always pretending you don’t see any of it. Which is what you do right now. Trying your hardest to ignore the fact he’s preparing a line on the small, glass coffee table, you finish up what you’re doing and close your locker a bit harshly.

“I have a client waiting.” You snap. You walk closer to where Barry is sitting and turn your back to him. “Tie me?” You ask, holding your hair up and waiting for him to tie the complex strings of your backless dress. Though he’s currently busy doing a line of cocaine. Without hesitation, Rafe steps closer, his fingers moving to tie your dress. You don’t have to see him to know he’s the one tying your dress. Your skin just immediately remembers his touch, causing chills to run down your spine at the flashbacks of that night. Rafe notices your slight shiver and smirks as he tries to figure out how the straps of your dress go. His hands linger on the skin of your lower back for longer than they need to and your breath hitches each time his skin comes into contact with your own.

When he’s done, he sits on the couch across from Barry, facing you. You turn back to them, not bothering to thank him. To be honest, you’re a bit pissed at him for starting this whole sex with customers thing. You know he didn’t intend to, but he’s the one who gave Barry the idea. 

Barry speaks up again as he wipes the excess powder from his nose. “When will you be back, I need you out on the floor.” 

I can’t do fucking everything, you think. Although your words come out much more politely. “It’s an at-home appointment so probably an hour.” You’ve had this client before, he typically finishes pretty quick. 

You hear Rafe’s loud breathing as he snorts a line which grabs your attention, making you briefly turn your head to look at him. You watch as he leans back, shutting his eyes and inhaling deeply as his high takes over. Rafe slouches in his seat, spreading his legs wide, making you quickly look away. Of course he notices how you’re reacting to him, he always notices everything about you. He crosses his arm and lets out a small sigh. 

Rafe’s tone is sharp as he cuts in. “At-home?” He questions, still trying to act as though he doesn’t care about the conversation you and Barry were having. 

Barry’s eyes linger on you for a moment, taking in the sight before turning to look at Rafe. “We now offer a new service: you can fuck any of ‘em bitches now.” You make a face at Barry’s words, not liking how he described you and the other girls. Usually he’d never say that in the presence of one of his “bitches”, but Rafe and Barry always brought out the worst in each other; their behavior much worse when they’re together. 

“Wait, what?!” He asks, sitting up a bit before calming himself down. He leans back against the couch, trying to seem all nonchalant. “So, they’re hookers?” He questions more calmly as he looks over to you. You recall having to tell him you weren’t a hooker the last time you saw him. You scowl, hating that he’s trying to prove you wrong and rub it in. 

“Hookers, bitches, call ‘em whatever you want. I should thank you for giving me the idea. I mean, do you have any idea how much money this is making me.” Barry boasts. “And miss pretty princess over here is our top money maker.” Barry gestures to you as you stand there, waiting for your chance to leave. “She brings in the most customers. Ain’t that right, darlin’?” You nod. Everytime Barry gets high, he doesn’t fucking shut up. Rafe just nods his head dryly, leaning down to snort another line of the white substance from the table. 

You take this as your queue to leave and you walk out through the door and back into the main part of the club. You walk through the crowd and search for your client. Leaving Rafe with a few moments to think in silence before Barry starts yapping about all the guys you’ve been fucking. Rafe is fucking furious with this new addition to the club. He had never intended for Barry to take inspiration from his actions, he just needed you. And now anyone else who wants you, can have you. How is it that you could say that you don’t go home with guys often, and turn around and go fuck a bunch of guys for a living right after? Was he just another client to you? Rafe can’t take it anymore and decides to take action. He shoots up from his seat on the couch and storms after you. 

As you’re walking, you feel a hand grip your arm and spin you around. You’re almost chest to chest with Rafe as he speaks down to you. “Where the hell are you going?”

“I have a client.” You explain, again. 

“The fuck you mean ‘a client’?” 

“You’re not the only one who’s willing to pay just to fuck me, Rafe.” You say coldly. 

He chuckles, responding sarcastically as he stares down at you with his wide, dilated eyes. “Thought you never went home with random guys?”

“I didn’t. Until you gave Barry the idea of selling me out to strangers for a quick buck.”

Rafe sighs, his grip on your arm loosening. “That’s not what I wanted. I mean c’mon, you think I want other guys fucking you?”

The implication in his words shock you, but you try not to read too much into it. Before you get the chance to respond he lets go of your arm, letting out a deep breath and shaking his head. Without question, he pulls his wallet out from his pocket, flipping it open and looking up at you. “How much is he gonna pay?” You stare at him blankly, confused in what he’s doing. He huffs out a long breath shutting his eyes for a second before bringing one hand up to snap in your face, grabbing your attention. “The guy, your…” his hand waves around in the air, gesturing outwards as he momentarily stutters. “...Client, or whatever. How much was he going to pay you?” He speaks more slowly this time, as if you’re stupid or something. 

“Depends.” You answer. The client you’re supposed to be meeting right now didn’t have an exact time planned, but you know how much he typically has the stamina for. 

He purses his lips, shifting on his feet. “Ballpark.” He demands. His gaze darted between your eyes, constantly shifting to look at both. 

Still confused, you hesitantly respond to his question, stuttering as you speak. “$800.” Immediately, he starts to count the money in his wallet, taking out the eight-hundred and then some. Rafe hands the cash out to you, but you don’t take it right away so he tucks it into the low cut neckline of your dress.

“There, now I take priority.” He takes hold of your arm again and drags you through the club and out into the parking lot. He walks you up to his truck, which you can now recognize. Rafe pulls the passenger door open for you and walks around to his side, climbing in and starting the engine. You know to get in, shutting the door behind you and buckling your seatbelt before looking over at him. Your stomach tightens as his eyes undress you. Rafe finally turns his head away, reaching over his shoulder to grab his seatbelt. Suddenly, it’s like the image registered in his brain and he whipped his head back to you, glaring at your thighs.

You noticed him staring at you, looking down into your lap. The super short dress you were wearing has ridden up, revealing the few hickeys that are spread over your inner thighs. His eyes find the others on your neck as well and he knows he wasn’t the one to leave them. You try to keep your customers from leaving hickeys and other marks in your body, but it’s like the more you tell them not to, the more they want to. It makes Rafe almost sick to his stomach when he thinks about kissing you with those marks; marks left on your skin from other men. He can’t stand it. Suddenly his mind is filled with images of you fucking other guys, he tries to shake out the thoughts but he can’t; they’re eating away at him. The two lines of cocaine from earlier not helping the situation, it only serves to intensify his anger. 

As he drives he looks over at you. He starts to rant, his voice booming inside the small tuck cabin. “Bet they can’t make you cum four fuckin’ times in an hour, can they?”  You only slightly jump when he startles you with the increasing volume of his voice. “They can’t fuckin’ touch you like I can, huh?” He glances at the road shortly, then he turns his head back to you. “Nobody makes you feel as good as I do, yeah?” He waits for a response.

You catch the hint. “Mhm…yeah.” You nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

When you get to Tanneyhill, Rafe comes to an abrupt stop in his driveway. He wastes no time before getting out of the truck and rounding the front of it to get to your side. Rafe pulls the passenger seat door open, grabbing ahold of your arm again. He tugs you inside, shutting the door behind you two. 

As soon as you hear the door shut, his lips are finding yours and attacking them. In the moment, he decides that his bedroom upstairs is too far and he takes you into the kitchen. He continues to kiss you, walking you backwards until your lower hips bump into the counter; in which he grabs your waist and lifts you up to sit on the counter. One of his hands finds its way underneath your dress and between your legs. In quick movements, he tugs your lacy thong down and off of your body. Once they hit the floor, he’s pulling your legs apart; forcing them to spread wide so that you’re exposed and accessible to him. Your pussy grows wet in anticipation of what he’s going to do to you; which is something that none of the other men have been able to make you feel.

Rafe brushes a light hand over your cunt, groaning into your mouth as he discovers how wet you are for him. Not some random guy at the club, but him. He continues to kiss you, swallowing the small moans that try and escape your lips. His hands move to his belt, working on getting it off. Once it’s off, he pulls his jeans down and steps out of them; only breaking the kiss once. The next thing to go in his boxers; he slides them down and lets them pool at his ankles.

With absolutely no warning or further preparation, Rafe slams into you. You choke out a moan, tilting your head back. Rafe starts to kiss the sensitive spot behind your ear just so that your cunt can squeeze around him even tighter as he jackhammers into you. “Fuuck…so tight.” He groans. “Did anyone else fuck you like this, hm? Did anyone else’s cock stretch you out like this?” He growls into your ear. His hand snakes around to the back of your head, gathering all your hair and tugging your head back so that you were looking at him. “That was a fucking question. Fucking answer.” He demands.

“I…”, you cry out as his cock repeatedly hits the extra sensitive spot deep inside you. A spot that nobody else can reach like how he does. “N-no…just you.” 

“Just me, what?” He continues, enjoying your struggle to form words as he fucks you at this pace.

“Just you can fuck me like this.” You admit. You’re not even saying it because he wants you to, but because you can honestly say that nobody’s ever fucked you like how he’s fucked you. 

“Good girl.” He praises. He runs a hand through your hair and slows his speed to a very slow, careful pace, admiring your features as your face contorts with pleasure. After about a minute, his hand finds your clit, his fingers rubbing harsh circles as his thrusts speed up to an unbearable pace again. He places a hand on your chest, pushing you down so that you’re laying with your back flat on the counter. 

The cold counter adds to the intense feeling. He pauses for a moment to pull your shiny, little dress up past your hips to keep it out of the way. When he continues, he’s drilling into you faster than before, giving you the last bit of his anger through his thrusts. Your back begins to arch off the counter, legs wrapping around his waist tightly. And just as you’re about to see stars, Rafe pulls out of you and steps back, pulling his boxers back up from his ankles.

An involuntary whine escapes your lips when his touch leaves you and you sit up on your elbows, trying to figure out why he stopped. Except he doesn’t say anything, he just lifts you up, carrying you upstairs and into his bedroom. 

When you get into his room, he sets you down just before the bed. “Shit, I almost forgot.” He mumbles. You furrow your brows and follow his gaze to his bed. On his bed sits a small gift box. You look back at him to find him staring at you. “Open it.” The demands, his tone almost displaying a small trace of excitement. 

You look back at the box, taking a few steps closer to the bed. You reach out to flip over the small tag on the box, it reads: ‘To: my favorite hooker’. Your breath hitches. He’s so frustrating with his persistence of using that word, ‘hooker’, when he knows you aren’t one. Well, you didn’t used to be one. But you have to admit, this seems almost…sweet, in a way. Sweet for Rafe anyhow. You fight back your smile as you reach both hands out, carefully lifting the lid off of the box, setting it on the bed. Inside the box lay some very beautiful, intricate lingerie; it’s clearly very expensive, judging on the fact that you can’t even pronounce the brand name. 

Rafe explains, “For what I ripped last time. I told you I’d replace it.”

“You did.” You say, getting lost in his eyes for perhaps a moment too long.

“Take it out.” He instructs and you obey, taking the delicate lingerie out of the gift box. Underneath the set, you find another gift. A vibrating wand as well as some thick ribbon. The vibrator you understand, the ribbon…not so much. You hold some of it up, turning to face him as if asking ‘what’s this for?’. Rafe understands what you’re asking and he responds vaguely. “You’ll see.” Clearly he enjoys keeping you on your toes, and you hate it. 

After changing into your new lingerie, you exit his bathroom and walk towards his bed. Quickly he has you laying on your back. He takes some ribbon from the box and straddles your waist leaning over you as he ties each of your wrists to a separate bed post. He then did the same with your feet. Now you’re all tied up for him, spread out on the bed and vulnerable. 

He leans down, hovering over you. He starts to kiss all over your body, his lips finding any open spot of skin on you. He pauses his kisses for a moment, leaning back up enough to look at you. He tells you, “Don’t wear this at the club.” Rafe leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your chest. “This is for me, yeah?” He mumbles, giving you yet another kiss. “My eyes only.” you nod in response, you agree. This is way too expensive to be wearing to the club.

“Yes, yes, only you.” You desperately plead. 

Rafe chuckles and starts to kiss down your body, He makes a momentary stop at your chest, mouthing over one of your nipples through the thin fabric, his fingers rolling your other nipple between his fingers. His actions elicit a loud moan to escape your lips as your body tenses up, struggling against the restraints. You now understand the ribbon. Last time, he had used rope to tie you up and it would painfully dig into your skin. But the ribbon was soft, not causing pain to be inflicted upon you as your body reacts to his actions. His mouth leaves your breast, moving to the other side, ensuring that it wasn’t left out. His hand also switches to pinch at your other nipple.

His mouth starts to travel down your body again as his hand reaches behind him on the bed to grab something. He mouths over your clothed cunt, making you whine and shiver underneath him; still sensitive from when he had teased you earlier on the kitchen counter. 

You hear a vibrating sound, but before your brain could register what it is, he’s using the new vibrator he bought for you, on you. He presses it firmly against your clit through the fabric of your panties. Your arms tug at the restraints in response, your legs trying, and failing to close. You feel so vulnerable, so exposed and weak. Lying here helpless as he assaults your small bundle of nerves. 

Rafe pulls your panties to the side, revealing your dripping cunt. He pushes the vibrator directly on your clit, sending a jolt of electricity through your body at the sensation. “F-fuck!” You cry, your abdominal muscles contracting as your eyes squeeze shut and your toes curl. Rafe leans in, using his tongue to lap up the juices that drip from your slick entrance as he keeps the vibrator steady on your most sensitive part. “Rafe!” You scream his name out as you cum, finally seeing the stars you were denied earlier, the build-up making it that much more intense. 

He pulls the vibrator away, only using his tongue to work you down from your high. When your body starts to relax more, he stops and moves back up your body. He sets the vibrator aside and kisses at your neck, leaving new marks of his own; darker and larger than the others. 

You’re still in shock at Rafe’s decision to use a toy on you. You definitely weren’t mad about it, that’s for sure. It’s just that typical guys won’t want to use a vibrator on you because they want to prove they’re better all by themselves. Rafe’s definitely good at sex, that’s just a given fact. But the confidence he has to use a vibrator on you, mixed with his skill…he’s fucking incomparable. 

Rafe unties your wrists, letting your arms fall and relax. Next he moves to untie the ribbon that ties your feet to the bed. Once you’re completely free, he gives you a moment, knowing how tiring that was for your body. He knows you need to recover if he wants to get more orgasms from you tonight. 

Though you appreciate his generosity, you want to help him out too. So you take him by surprise by placing your hand over his hard cock through his boxers. Except he still manages to be the one surprising you when he speaks. “Fuck…that feels…s’so good baby.” He groans, but moves your hand off his dick. “But let me take care of you, yeah? I know Barry’s got you workin’ a lot, hm? Heard you’ve got the most customers, is that right?” He asks, his hands starting to squeeze and massage at you calves 

“Mhm…” you agree, closing your eyes in relaxation. 

Rafe’s hands move to massage your feet, knowing the tall heels you’re always wearing have to be causing you some discomfort. And he knows he assumed correctly when you let out a deep sigh at his touch. “Nobody ever takes care of you, hm? Always just taking what they want and giving you nothing?” He leans in closer to your ear and whispers, “I like taking care of you.” Rafe starts to nip softly at your ear, making you moan softly. 

After a while, his hands leave your feet, moving back up your body. He gently pulls off the lingerie, setting it on the bed beside you two. He takes a moment to revel in the sight of you, taking in what he is lucky enough to have in front of him. One of his hands finds its way to your slimy folds, gently running over your entrance. He gathers some of your slick and brings it up to your clit as he begins to rub it in steady, slow circles.

Finally, he pulls his boxers off. He uses his other hand to hold himself at the base, gently stroking himself a few times as he looks down at you underneath him. Without much more preparation, he pushes himself inside of you. This time, he moves slowly. His mind isn;t clouded from the effects of cocaine and anger anymore, instead he just wants to help you feel good. He wants to take him time, even though you’re likely not going to last long after your previous orgasm. 

“Shit, so fuckin’ wet f’me. You’re always so wet for me, hm? Such a good girl. Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He groans, his mouth right next to your ear so you can clearly hear all his praises. “M’gonna have to talk to Barry for you. Can’t have you fuckin’ those other guys anymore. This pussy’s for me; it’s mine.” His speed gets faster, his pace more erratic as you get closer, your cunt squeezing around him tighter; ultimately bringing him closer to finishing as well. “Hm? You hear me?”

“Mhm…” you nod eagerly, getting so close to cumming that you can barely form a complete thought. “Y-yes Rafe. Yours, fuck! Yours.”

He gathers all your hair, tugging on it so that your neck cocks back, giving him full access to mark it up. He leaves wet, sloppy kisses all over your neck; sucking and biting at your skin. “Only a slut for me, right? Nobody else, not anymore.”

“Yes…sure, fuck, okay yeah!” You scream. The recognizable feeling of your stomach tightening just for the band to snap, making your back arch off the bed, pushing your body against his as you reach another orgasm. “Ohh…nngghh…f-fucking shit!” You curse, your hand clawing at his shirt, trying to take it off. Rafe understands what you need and does it for you.

It’s not long before he gets to his peak with the way you keep squeezing him; so wet that he just slips right in and out. But before he cums, he asks you a final question. “Can I?”,is all he says but it’s enough for you to know what it is that he’s asking. He’s already done it before, so you don’t see the problem, especially not right now. You don’t even have it in you to say no even if it was what you wanted,

“Mhm…please. Please cum inside me, Rafe. I-I need it.” You admit.

Without wasting another second, Rafe’s movements slow down as he releases his load in you; painting your walls white with his cum. You could feel his warm seed spilling out of you, mixing with your sticky juices. When he pulls out, you feel empty. Your lonely cunt left clenching around nothing. 

Rafe lies down beside you, wrapping his arms around you. You never had taken Rafe for much of a cuddler, but he’s full of surprises tonight. You return the action, wrapping your arms around him and draping a leg over him. 

After you’ve both had time to recover, you still just lie there, enjoying each other's silent company. But you finally decide to break the silence between you two. “Y’know, I have to admit that it is kinda nice to be with someone who can get it up without taking pills.” You joke truthfully, referring to all the old sugar daddies that pay for your services.  

Rafe chuckles at your words. He wants to say ‘I told you so’, to prove that he knew nobody else made you feel the same as he did, but fights the urge. Instead he just laughs. “Oh, I bet.” 

“Did…did you mean what you said about talking to Barry?” You ask on a more serious note.

Rafe looks at you, admiring your soft, tired, fucked-out expression as he runs a gentle hand through your hair. “Oh yeah, yeah. I can talk to him if you want. He usually listens to me.”

“And if he doesn’t?” You ask.

“Then I’ll make him.” He reassures you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I started this, I’m gonna fix it, okay? So don’t worry. You ain’t gotta fuck nobody you don’t wanna no more, yeah? How’s that sound?”

“Thank you.” You mumble to him, your eyes starting to get heavy and droop shut. 

“I hope that means you’ll still fuck me.” He teases, petting your soft hair as he watches you. 

You just nod, too exhausted to engage in his jokes. Rafe just smiles softly, appreciating the fact that he has you all sleepy in his bed; his arms. Of all the time he spent watching you and admiring you at the club, he never was able to imagine this moment.

He presses one final kiss to your head before closing his own eyes, pulling you in tighter. “I’ll take you back tomorrow, that alright?”

“Mhm…” You mumble under your breath, already half asleep. 

“Goodnight.” He whispers, pulling the covers over the two of you. 

Thank you for reading! I greatly appreciate it! PLEASE feel free to leave Rafe x reader requests!! I LOVE getting them!

Again, sorry if this is bad. I'm so tired and too lazy/impatient to proofread/edit. I hope this is good enough to fulfill your request!

[urmum-lovesme]

A little tease of Biker!Rafe x Stripper!Reader…

Where they both work at ‘The Globe’, the best strip club on the island, known for their famous ‘globe of death’ performances.

And although they want to keep it professional, they can’t deny the tension that lingers between them one night after they perform… but thank god it’s so busy, cause it drowns out the noises coming from Y/n’s dressing room.

(I’m so excited stop I can’t wait to post this 🤭)

(I’ve just posted and you can find it here! )

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

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.

[pintrestgrl]

SAD!STRIPPER!READER WITH NICE!POGUE!RAFE.

warnings — mentions of stripping from a young age, paying for sexual services, angst, fluff if u like squint ig, mentions of underage stripping (18) mentions of abuse, profanity, idk thats like it ok enjoy

plz plz keep in mind that i am not a stripper n this fic is likely not accurate

BONUS POINTS IF U NOTICE THE DETAIL IN THE ENDDD

reader is technically latina in my mind , but u can imagine her as different if u want idc. reader is shorter, n more petite for the storyline

enjoyyyy and lmk ur thoughts in the notess

this wasnt rafes first choice. he had just gotten off work, and all the bars had closed at 2am around 30 minutes ago. but he desperately needed a glass of whiskey. the only place still open that served alcohol, was the towns one and only strip club.

he thought it once over, weighing the pros and cons in his head, before ultimately deciding that there wasnt too much that could go wrong if he went. it was so late, it probably wouldn’t even be too busy. he would get his drink, and go home.

or so he thought. he was right about the busyness of the place, but the second he saw you sitting on the edge of the stage, legs dangling, leaning back on your hands, he knew he wasnt gonna leave right away. he was the only guy in there, thank god.

he managed to make it to the bar, ordering a double instead of his usual single. he knew he had to talk to you, but he also knew he needed the extra confidence. you weren’t facing the bar, allowing him to really analyze your face. you looked, sad. now that he really looked at you.

it was odd. you didnt even look temporarily sad, it looked permanent. like the emotion had been etched into you since birth. he couldn’t stop looking. his eyes finally left you when the barkeep set his bill down infront of him. he called out after, “who do i talk to for a private session?”

the bartender sighed, rolling her eyes. “there’s only like two dancers left here, ‘n they probably aint up for a session right now.” rafe shook his head, speaking up again. “i’ll pay good. as much as she’ll take.” the woman glanced up, behind rafe. “go talk to james, up there. he’ll set you up.” rafe nodded, leaving a $20 on the bartop and heading over to the man.

he was an older guy, he looked rough. tired. he was sitting in a chair, counting money. the mans eyes looked up at him, looking him over. he spoke. “what you need, kid?” rafe cleared his throat, a bit nervous. “was looking for a private session. with the girl over there.” the man chuckled, the gravely noise filling the air. “bambi. her names bambi.”

rafe nodded, taking his wallet out. “yeah— i want her.” the man raised his brows at the leather in rafes hand, speaking. “you want a vip session, or a private?” rafe furrowed his brows, confused. “whats the difference?” the man smiled again, clearly amused.

“vip, you can touch her, and she can take off her clothes. but she charges however much she wants. how long you want her?” rafe ran the mans words through his mind, thinking. he wanted to talk to her for a while. he wanted to see her fully, no matter the price. “the vip. i want her for an hour.”

the man nodded, writing something down on a piece of paper. “she’ll probably charge you around $850 for that. that okay?” rafe nodded, wincing a bit at the price. the man spoke up again, “also, if she does end up taking her clothes off, tip her well. really well.” the man smiled eerily creepy, insinuating something that made rafe feel off.

the manager yelled something in spanish at the girl, her understanding. she headed to the door behind her. the manager yelled something nodded rafe off to follow her. he trailed behind her, noticing her skimpy yet comfortable clothes. she had on a tiny bra, barely covering her nipples. and a thin as floss thong underneath the black sweats that hanged low on her hips.

she had really long hair. down past her ass. it was straight too.

he wanted to know if that was its natural state or not.

he wanted to know her. in and out. her pet peeves, her hobbies, her fears.

she led him to a room, lit up by red lights. it contained a large velvet black couch, a coffee table, and a pole. the girl sat down on the couch, her knees tucked to her chest. rafe paused infront of her, unsure. he had never been anywhere like this. she looked up at him, her sad looking eyes, before she spoke. “are you gonna sit?” he nodded quickly, sitting to the side of her.

she was looking at him, and he returned her gaze. she was beautiful, genuinely. she wasn’t even wearing any makeup either, completely bare. he liked looking at her. a lot. she spoke, again. “are you okay?” he laughed, not on purpose. just on instinct. “yeah? why do you ask?”

she let her chin rest on her knee, still keeping his gaze. “because you aren’t telling me what you want me to do.” he studied her expression, accidentally stopping at her lips for a moment. “i just want you to do whatever you wanna do.” she sat up at this, checking his face to make sure he was serious.

he could tell she didnt know how to respond, so he spoke again. he was starting to get more comfortable. “you wanna tell me about you?” she nodded, before answering. “what do you wanna know?” he shrugged. he honestly just wanted to hear her talk. “how’d you get into stripping?”

she let her eyes drop from his, fidging with the drawstring of her sweats instead. “i was really young. like, younger then i should have been. i needed money— and i just went to the first club i could find. then i moved states, started working here.” he nodded, listening to her talk. he liked her voice.

“why’d you move?” she glanced around the room, before nervously speaking. “this ex boyfriend. wouldn’t leave me alone, so i left.” he nodded, looking straight ahead now too. he felt guilty for asking, but he didnt know why. he knew she seemed uncomfortable about it though. he wouldn’t mention it again.

“you like what you do?” he asked. she nodded. “mhm. its fun, ‘n the moneys good.” he registered her words, holding on to them. “why’d you get into it so young?” she tensed up, again. he felt bad. “needed to get out of my dads house. needed to eat.” rafe nodded. the more he listened to her, the more he analyzed her features, he realized just how truly sad she seemed.

“isnt it dangerous? bein’ so young and stripping. has anything ever happened?” she chewed on her bottom lip, looking down. “more at the first club then here.” he nodded, urging her to continue. “what happened at the first club?” she sighed, rolling her eyes. she seemed, off.

“the manager— he wasn’t good. he was pimping on the side ‘n would use girls from the club. he wouldn’t give us a choice about it either; if you didn’t wanna walk the blade, he would— take more out of your pay, beat on the girls ‘n stuff like that.” she spoke. rafe felt nauseous. it was so sick. this girl was no older then 21. she started working underaged at the club, to a pimp who beat her.

rafe spoke. “you were a hooker?” she looked at him, disappointedly. “no. i told him i wouldn’t do it.” rafe felt bad for asking that. she seemed offended. “so he beat you?” rafe spoke, her answer being a light nod. “yeah. he set me up too.” he looked at her, his brows furrowed concerningly.

“set you up like how?” he asked, softly. she tucked her knees back to her chest, before speaking. “had these guys jump ‘n rape me when i was leaving work. why are you asking me this?” her expression was one that rafe couldn’t make it out. it seemed like she was almost nonchalant about the topic.

“i just— sorry. im sorry. you dont have to talk to me about it.” rafe spoke. that killed him. she was a small girl too, defenseless really. and she probably thought that treatment was normal. like she deserved it. she studied his expression for a moment, before looking away. a silence fell in the room. for a while, too. until finally, she spoke again. “why haven’t you told me to take my clothes off yet?” she asked, looking back to him. he shrugged. that idea hadn’t even came to mind yet.

“i ‘dunno. you can if you want.” she narrowed her eyes, her brows furrowed. “you paid $750 to talk to me for an hour?” rafe laughed, before replying. “i guess, if you put it that way.” she smiled, for the first time they had been in that room. “so, you didn’t come in here to fuck?” she asked. he shook his head immediately, answering. “no. god no. i just wanted to talk to you.”

she tilted her head, checking his gaze for seriousness. “why?” he shrugged yet again, “you interested me. you’re really pretty too.” she smiled, again. he liked that it was him that made her smile. “thank you.” she spoke, rafe nodding. “your hours almost up.” she reminded him, rafe sighing. “can i pay for another one?” she looked at him, like he was asking the dumbest question in the world.

“you’re not paying me just to talk. i wont let you. and the clubs gonna close soon.” she spoke. rafe chewed his lip, he wanted to keep talking. he had an idea, but he wasn’t sure if she would even be okay with it. he figured he could try, though. “can we go to your place?” he asked carefully, tiptoeing over the question. she raised her brows, replying. “its against the policy to go home with customers.” she said.

rafe was about to give up, shoving the idea off his mind before he heard her speak again. “just— here,” she trailed off, grabbing a pen from the pocket of her sweats. she took his hand, writing an address on the top of it. “you can come. but we aren’t fucking. or doing anything like that.” rafe was fucking ecstatic.* he didnt even wanna fuck her, he would take what he could get.

he tried to reply as nonchalantly as he could, brushing off the way his fingers felt against hers. how small her hand was compared to his. “yeah. thats perfect— thats fine. thank you.” she nodded, getting up from the couch before turning and looking at him, speaking. “leave 10 minutes after me. dont make it obvious.” he nodded, looking up at the idea of the most beautiful girl he had ever dreamt of.

she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss below his eye. it felt like he was in fucking highschool, painfully hard in his pants from a brush of a hand and a kiss on the cheek. she left the room after that, leaving rafe. he figured she was gonna be leaving then, so he waited his 10 minutes before getting to his truck and leaving too.

he pulled into a small house, deep in the ghetto. it was decorated nicely though, string lights and wind chimes adorning the front porch. he got out of the truck, knocking on the door shortly after. she answered, looking showered with her hair wet. she was wearing a big graphic t-shirt, lettering adorned on the back of it. didn’t seem like she was wearing pants.

“hey,” he spoke, smiling down at her. he realized truly how small she was, tiny really. it was clear now why she was called ‘bambi’. “hi. she spoke, inviting him in. he walked in, analyzing the place. it was clean, very clean. cozy, too. warm lighting filling the room. she walked through the room, him figuring he should follow. he had to be at least a foot taller then her.

he followed, her walking into a room. seemed like it was hers. it was filled with candles, vanilla. he liked it. she sat on her bed, leaving him standing. he didn’t wanna sit on her bed if she didnt want him too. but she spoke, clearing the air. “you can sit.” he nodded, moving to the other side of her bed. he took his shoes off, before she spoke. “you can take your pants off too.” he nodded, slipping his jeans off and sitting to the side of her.

“can i ask you something?” she spoke, him answering with a nod. “why haven’t you asked me for sex yet? and why are you being so nice?” he leaned back, his arms stretched behind his head. her sitting up still, next to him. he spoke “i dont expect you to do things you dont want to do. i just— think you’re a nice girl. i wanted to get to know you.”

she stayed silent for a moment, analyzing his face, before she spoke, “whats your name? he smiled, looking at her. “rafe.” she nodded, speaking back. “i like you, rafe. you’re sweet.” he laughed, replying. “thanks. ‘preciate it.” she laid down, her head unexpectedly going to his chest. he let her, lifting his arm for her to lay on. she pulled the blanket over the two of them, putting on a movie soon after.

this felt— intimate. domestic. he liked it. he wanted to do this often, specifically with her. only her. he carefully let his hand go to her hip, testing the waters. she didnt tense, didnt flinch. in fact, she almost seemed to lean in to his touch. he really, really liked that.

he watched the movie with her, a silence filling the air. except it wasnt uncomfortable. it was more then comfortable, it felt good. he soon felt her go limp against him, presumably falling asleep.

he wouldn’t move a fucking inch. he liked this so, so much. maybe too much. he felt already attached to her. which might have been bad, but he couldn’t bring myself to care. he would savor this moment, and hold on to it as long as he could. he was relaxed by her presence, put at peace.

he soon felt exhaustion fill him, succumbing to rest.

he woke up for a moment, presumably in the middle of the night, to her laying more on top of him now. her head resting to the side of his, her legs tangled with his. he rubbed her back absentmindedly, eyes catching on to her hair. it was dry now. long, pretty, loose curls falling from her head.

now he knew, her natural hair was wavy.

tags — comment if u wanna b added, or taken off.

@lacehartz @battybaby111 @maybanksangel @kittyreposts @littlelamy @theeternaloptimistt @enchantedstarfish @iwishiknew-69 @heavenlyangelbaby @rafesdoe @whinyangel

[cxrdycxps]

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.

[metyouinthehallway]

𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞

Bartender!chris x stripper!reader

(This the first REAL smut between the two🤗)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Walking into the club, you’re met with a sea of red and pink. Balloons and cheesy decor litter the bar and stage. Tonight, all the girls— including you, dressed in pretty pink lingerie, some even going the extra mile and doing themed makeup.

When you make your way to the bar, you eye a single rose that’s housed in an empty beer bottle. Chris is too busy tending to customers to notice your presence until he whips around, nearly bumping into you in the process.

“Oh- hey! Happy Valentine’s Day.” He sounds just as surprised as he looks, a damp rag slung over his shoulder and his brows raised to meet the hat that sits on his head.

“Happy V-day!” You cheer, your lips curving into a warm smile. The music and chatter amongst customers withering away as the two of you hold eye contact.

“Here, for you.” Chris clears his throat, handing you the aged beer bottle, the rose poking out of the mouth of the glass. He looks almost bashful, like he’s unsure if this is too much.

“Chris,” you start, your smile slowly turning downward. You’d never received flowers before and the small gesture meant the world to you. “It’s beautiful, thank you…” your fingers toy with the petals, gleaming at the single flower before you.

“Mhm, y’know I had to get my favorite girl something.” Chris can already feel his dick jumping in his pants as he takes in the sight of you, barely covered in the sexiest lingerie he’s ever seen.

“Favorite girl, hm?” You chuckle, but before the conversation is able to continue, you’re pulled away from the bar. Your boss ordering you to start interacting with customers.

Soon enough, you’re on the stage, heart shaped decorations lousily hang from the ceiling tiles and faux rose petals are scattered on the stage floor.

Your fingers lazily wrap around the pole, men already fisting bills your way and you’ve barely even started the show yet. You know Chris is watching from afar, you can feel his gaze on you.

That’s what you want. You want the bartender to get worked up enough— both of you know he can’t do anything about it while on the clock.

You swing your body around the pole, using your upper body strength to raise yourself off of the ground. Wrapping a sultry leg around the cold metal, you twirl your body, contorting it in ways that only lonely men would pay for.

His eyes are burning into your skin. You can’t see him from the position you’re in but oh, you could feel the weight of his eyes as you prance around the dimly lit stage.

After what’d felt like hours upon hours of working, you’re bagging your tips, not bothering to count the bills. Once the night had come to a still, you’re clothing yourself, grabbing your car keys and heading to the sketchy parking lot.

“So, you just gonna go home? No big plans tonight?” Chris who’d been patiently waiting for you, leans against the side of his car, arms folded infront of his chest.

His voice caused you to jolt slightly, your fingers fumbling for your pepper spray before you realize who was speaking to you.

“Shit…! You scared me,” you chuckle, the February weather causing you to shiver despite the ginormous fluffy coat that clothed you.

“M’bad, pretty.” He lets out a breathy sigh, amused at your shock factor. He bites down on his lip ever so subtly, taking in your attire once more. “No plans tonight though… right?” He confirms, pushing off of the car and stepping toward you.

You shake your head in response. “Nope, not tonight.” The parking lot light flickers as you speak, arms now wrapped around your own body to preserve warmth and comfort— the parking lot always spooked you the most.

“Come over.” He shrugs, his voice carrying a sweet charm to it. It’s as if it was the most casual thing in the world, you going to his place. Come to think of it, would it be so terrible? The two of you have only ever interacted within public spaces. Perhaps the privacy of his walls would make you feel more comfortable.

“What?” You reply, Chris’s jaw tightens for a moment. For all he knew, he could be getting rejected on Valentine’s Day. How heartbreaking would that be?

“Come to my place. We can chill, have a shitty dinner together. Shit, who knows, maybe we’ll end up cuddling.” He confirms, you search his expression for a hint of sarcasm but it’s not there. He’s serious.

“Are you asking me to be your valentine?” You tease, a smirk playing at your lips when you realize what he’s insinuating.

“Nah, just figured if I’m gonna spend the night jerking off the the thought of you, might as well have you there, y’know?” The admission rolls off his tongue so naturally, like he holds no shame in his words.

Your eyes widen, your pussy already aching for him and he has yet to even touch you. Nodding your head, you take a step closer to Chris. “Take me to your place, bartender.” You peer up at him through your false lashes. He’d always towered over you but it’s not until now that you notice just how intense his gaze is.

The drive to Chris’s house isn’t long, three songs length. You counted. His hands fumble with his keys as he reaches to unlock the front door. He turns to look at you, desperation and forgiveness in his eyes as he opens his mouth to speak.

“I live with my brothers… Nick is probably passed out by now and I don’t think Matt’s home.” He turns the key in the lock, you can hear the door click open. You had no idea Chris had brothers. Now that he mentions it, you didn’t know much about him at all. You two only ever talked about you.

“Brothers?” You repeat as if you misheard him. He nods, holding the door open for you.

“Yeah, I’m a triplet. The youngest.” He chuckles at your amusement. You kick off your shoes at the door, noticing how fresh the house smells. Like linen and florals.

“Cmon, I’m down here.” He motions, leading you down the stairs to his bedroom. It’s much cleaner than you expected, there’s one poster thumbtacked to the wall, a rapper or something. A guitar tucked away in its case leans against the corner of his room.

“You play?” You ask, motioning to the sleek guitar case.

“Not in years.” Chris huffs in response, he takes your purse from your hands, placing it on his desk chair. “So, dinner. Whatchu thinking?” He changes the subject, plopping onto his mattress.

“Pizza?” You suggest, accepting the fact that Chris won’t be serenading you with the sweet melodies of his guitar tonight. He nods in response, watching as you hesitate to sit on the edge of his bed.

“Don’t be shy, y/n.” Chris chuckles, patting the space next to him. By the time you’d made yourself comfortable next to him, he’s already pulled his phone from his pocket and began browsing DoorDash.

“So… these brothers. Tell me about them.” You start, laying your head on his shoulder. You watch his thumb flit across the phone screen as he orders your dinner.

“Nicks the oldest, then Matt, then me. I dunno, I mean… Nick’s pretty loud and Matt’s real quiet. I’d say I’m a good mix.” He relaxes into your touch. His once tense shoulders now slumping as he becomes accustomed to your body.

“Mhm… and how come you’ve never told me you’re a triplet?” You continue. The questions spewing out of your mouth now. He hits order on the screen. Setting his phone on the nightstand and giving you his full attention.

“Never came up. Wanna watch somethin’?” He changes the subject once again. One arm snakes around your shoulders while the other reaches for his remote.

Chris puts on some random comedy, letting out a sigh of contentment as you snuggle closer to him. Your legs coming up to your chest and your full body weight leaning into his side now.

“Y/n?” Chris asks, turning to look at you.

“Yes, Christopher?” You look up at him, this is nice. The two of you, not in public. It feels almost domestic. Too domestic.

“We should get drinks.” He shifts abruptly, holding out a hand for you to take and leading you upstairs to the kitchen. A very simple very bland kitchen at that. White cabinets and a fridge decorated with coloring pages.

“Take your pick.” He opens the refrigerator door, revealing the plethora of beverages. Everything from Pepsi to lemonade and Capri-Suns.You reach for a lemonade, Chris going for a Pepsi.

“Who’s coloring?” You point out the neatly colored pages. It looks like who ever did them took their time and made sure to color between the lines.

“Us, we have hobbies y’know.” Chris teases, heading back to his room. Before he does though, he opens the front door, grabbing your food.

“I’m not judging! Just intrigued.” You defend yourself, following him around like a puppy. It doesn’t go lost on you that he locks the bedroom door behind him as the two of you re-enter his bedroom.

You sit cross legged on his bed, Chris doesn’t hold back, digging into the pizza, you doing the same. With Chris, it feels like you aren’t just coworkers. Maybe friends. Definitely more than friends.

His room is illuminated by a dim lamp and the tv that plays the forgotten movie in front of you. “So, rate this Valentine’s Day.” You take a bite of your food, watching as Chris removes his hat and places it on the nightstand.

“Couldn’t be worse. I got you here, don’t I?” Chris closes the pizza box, staring at you intently.

“Could it be better?” You rebuttal, your eyes glued to his as you take the last bite of your pizza.

“I mean…” he snorts, pornographic ideas playing on the film reel in his mind. You cock a brow at Chris, you’re a stripper sure! But does he think you’re the easiest woman alive? “Not that we have to-” he holds a hand up in defense, but you stop him with a giggle, your lips meeting his.

Your hand snakes to the back of Chris’s neck, deepening the kiss a little bit more before you pull away. “How easy do you think I am?” You bite down on your now slightly swollen lip, eyes peering at Chris’s lips for a moment.

“No- what? I never said that.” You can practically see the panic in his brain. He leans back against his headboard in defeat, his messy hair falling over his forehead.

His thoughts contradict his words though. He wanted nothing more than to have your bare backside against his sheets. He wanted nothing more than to see your brows knit together in pleasure— to hear his name fall gleefully from your lips.

“I’m messing with you, bartender.” You roll your eyes, your manicured nails tracing the hem of his denim clad thigh as you speak.

“I don’t wanna fuck you like you’re a stripper…” his breath hitches in the wake of your nails. He’s seeing you for you. Not the girl that spins around on stage for dirty money.

“So fuck me like I’m your valentine.” The seductive tone of your voice only causes Chris’s jeans to tighten around his crotch. He lets out a shaky breath as you crawl onto his lap.

“Y/n…” he mutters, his hands delicately placing themselves on your hips. The once neutral room now hot and heavy with tension. Chris is beyond nervous and he’s trying desperately to maintain his composure.

“Yes Chris?” You reverberate, running a hand up his arm, you deliberately roll your hips into his causing him to throw his head back and let out a low groan.

“Fuck…” he hisses through his teeth, guiding your hips with his hands. You lean in, pressing a kiss to his stubbled jaw, his body tensing in response.

“What’s the matter bartender? Nervous?” You tease, you’ve never seen Chris so stiff before. It was new— this was new.

“Not nervous, just unexpected?” His answer comes out as a question. His eyes meet yours again, this time there’s vulnerability behind them. “I don’t want you to think I’m like those guys…”

“I know you’re not, I wouldn’t be here if I thought any different.” Your voice is soft now, reassuring him that this is what you want. You didn’t want Chris to feel like he had to do this either.

You grind against his jeans once more, physically proving that you both want this. You can feel him growing harder beneath you and by the way you’re moving on top of him, he knows you’re feeling the same way.

“You aren’t one of my clients. We’re off the clock Chris, you can do anything you want to me.” Your words echo throughout his ears. You can see the rise and fall of his chest with each breath the takes.

He looks down at his lap, then back up at your eyes. This time, he searches them, his lips parted slightly as he struggles to find the right words.

“Are you positive? Like… one hundred percent?” He asks, his grip on your hips never tightens, if anything it becomes more delicate. Like you’re fine china on the brink of shattering.

You hum in response, your nails tugging gently at the hair on the back of his head. Chris finally gives in, pulling you close to him and connecting your lips in a desperate kiss.

Your lips move in sync with each other, parting your lips, you allow Chris to slip his tongue into your mouth. Tongues dancing together, he swallows your quiet whimpers. His own larger hand supports the back of your head as he pulls you impossibly closer to him.

Chris is quick to escalate things now that you’ve reassured him. His free hand roaming beneath your shirt, ghosting over your warm skin. You can feel his cock begging for escape beneath you, your own hands travel down to his belt, hastily unbuckling it and pulling it through his belt loops. The clatter of the metal hitting the floor heard from across the room as you toss it to the side.

Every touch is eager, both of you itching for the other. He pulls back for a moment, hands on the hem of your shirt. You nod, lifting your arms up and he wastes no time pulling your top over your head.

Your fingers move quick, impatiently fondling with his pant buttons, Chris flips you over, shimmying off his pants. His bulge hard to miss through his briefs, you look up at Chris who’s using one arm to support himself above you.

He grins like a lust struck idiot, placing kisses down your neck and collarbone, slowly pulling your bra strap down your shoulder as he does so. You lift up, letting him unhook your bra and exposing your chest to him for the first time.

He’s bites down on his lip in anticipation before attaching his lips to one of your nipples, sucking and flicking his tongue over the bud, his other hand kneading your free breast before switching attention.

“Chris!” You giggle, pulling at his hair, he leaves wet kisses in the valley of your chest. Trailing down to your tummy, his fingers toy with the waistband of your sweatpants, removing those too.

He continues his trail of kisses down to your upper thigh, neglecting where you need him most. You’re heat soaking with desire for his mouth, his fingers… anything. He peers up at your through hooded eyes, his tongue darting out to lick at your swollen bundle of nerves.

That elicits a whine from you, arching your back slightly off the bed. Chris lets out a soft chuckle, his tongue licking a flat stripe up your soaking cunt.

“So wet, hm?” He hums, spreading your legs wider, his arms wrap around either of your thighs. You nod in response, though he can’t hear it, he knows you want more.

Each flit and flutter of his tongue has you soaring above the stars. Chris knows how to work his mouth and it shows. Your thighs tighten around his head, your smaller hands grasping at his large ones, he intertwines your fingers with his, watching your face intently as he continues to eat you out.

“Shit…Chris!” You squeal, your hips grinding against his face and your grip on his hands tightens. He’s devouring you at this point. The only sounds heard from the room being your gasps and whines of pleasure mixed with his slurping and sucking. He’s completely enamored by the sight of you using his tongue to get yourself off.

Chris finally comes up for air, a smug smirk on his face as he takes in your state. “All good up there, mama?” His voice rough, you open your eyes, chest still heaving— to be met with Chris who’s chin is glistening with your arousal.

“Mhm…” you whine, bucking your hips against nothing. Chris quickly pulls himself out of his briefs, reaching in his nightstand for a condom. Impatiently, you wait for what feels like ages (it was really only ten seconds) for him to roll it onto his length. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head when you see his size.

He slowly pushes himself into you, your walls adjusting to his girth. Once he’s fully sheathed inside of you, he stills for a moment, dipping his head down to your neck.

“You okay?” He asks against the skin crook of your neck. When you give him the approval he needed, he starts to thrust in and out of you. Gradually increasing pace. Your jaw hangs open, letting breathy moans escape your lips. Chris has never seen anything more attractive in his life.

“So… so good!” You cry out, your nails raking up and down his back as he continues his movements. You feel almost exhilarated, Chris obviously knew what he was doing and he did a damn good job at it too. His own grunts of pleasure being muffled by your skin. He places a sloppy kiss to your lips, swallowing each others pleas of desperation.

Chris pulls out momentarily, flipping you over, your ass is in the air and face buried in his sheets. He grips your hips hard, sure to leave bruises tomorrow. The new position allows Chris to ram himself deeper into your pussy, your curses now being screamed into the depths of his mattress.

“Fuck, squeezin’ me so good pretty girl-” Chris praises, his hips slamming into your backside as each word leaves his mouth. Chris takes your hands behind your back, using them as reigns of support.

“Can’t…” you mewl, but that only meant you were barely holding on. Chris, could feel you tightening around his cock, your walls pulsating and he knows your on the brink of your orgasm.

“Mhm, I know you can baby, almost there.” Chris grunts, his hips full force ramming into your tight pussy. You wiggle your hands free from his grip, now grasping at the bedsheets, your back arching further as you feel yourself begin to give out.

With a few final thrusts, he has you spewing his name from your pretty lips, him shooting his load into the condom. he slows his pace, pulling out at an agonizingly slow rate, he ties the condom and tosses it into the bin. His full attention now on you again as he rubs comforting circles on your back.

“Holy shit…” he gleams at your fucked out state. Chris lets you fully collapse onto his bed, laying in the empty spot next to you. Neither of you exchanging a word for a while.

He pulls your body toward his, his front pressed against your back. Chris litters your cheek with kisses while whispering comforting words into your ear.

“So we’re definitely gonna start doing that more?” You confirm once you regain your composure. Turning to face him, you’re met with a very happy looking bartender.

Chris hums in response, lips placing a chaste kiss to your nose before speaking. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” He smiles at you, never loosening his grip around your torso.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A/n: happy (late) vday to all u bartender!chris sluts <3

[rafesplaymate]

The Other Woman

Rafe Cameron x Stripper!Reader

݁༉‧₊˚. navigation. ݁༉‧₊˚. masterlist.

warnings: angst. cheating (not on reader). substance use. descriptions of smut. dark themes / adult content.

a/n: there will be no second part

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.

“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 in 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!

© 2024 | rafesplaymate