#Stripper!reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pintrestgrl · 12 hours ago

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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

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daddyyss · 2 days ago

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller edit #joel miller x you #joel miller x stripper!reader #stripper!reader #imagine being his favorite girl <3 #joel miller pedro pascal #lana del rey aesthetic

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cameronsprincess · 6 months ago

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p!link thinking about… stripper!reader pulling the condom off blue collar!rafe mid-fuck😮‍💨

CW: smut! 18+ only! blue collar!rafe, stripper!reader, protected turned unprotected piv sex, ass slapping, degrading.

daydreams

it was the way he had you bent over, palms planted on his leather couch while his own large, calloused hands harshly gripped at your hips. the pace in which he fucked his long, thick cock inside you had your sweaty palms slipping against the black leather of the couch, loud moans and whines followed by the lewd sounds of your soaked pussy bounced off the walls. you’d never had anyone fuck you this good before.

“ffffffuck, r-rafe!” you moan, the feel of his swollen head repeatedly hitting at your g-spot sending your mind into a hazy state.

his right hand releases your hip, a harsh slapping sound ringing through your ears and your ass cheek stinging from the slap he’d just given it. you feel his cock swelling inside you, his thrusts beginning to grow sloppy.

“r-rafe! want… want you to cum inside me!”

he chuckles, his hand slapping at your ass again and again. “such a dirty fuckin’ slut, yeah? wanna let a man you just met fill you with his cum?”

your bottom lip is pulled between his teeth, biting down so hard you’re surprised you don’t draw blood. nodding your head profusely, you whimper out a small “yes.”

rafe slowly pulls his cock out of you, leaving just the tip inside before he removes himself completely. you crane your neck, finding his intense blue eyes and then his dick. you lift your right hand, reaching back and pulling at the condom that squeezes at his thick member. you finally free his cock from the condom, smiling back at him before turning and placing your right hand back on the couch.

you hiss in a breath when he begins sliding the head of his cock through your slick folds. “mmm you’re so wet, darlin’. fuckin’ soaked. you gonna be a good little whore and make a mess on my cock?”

“mhmm.. please? please, rafe. fuck me.”

“yes ma’am.” he rasps while shoving his cock back inside you, filling and stretching you. you lift up onto your toes, letting a soft moan slip from your lips.

his hands make purchase on your hips again, his pace brutal. your pussy clenches around him, begging to be filled with his cum. “fuckfuckfuckfuck! please, please!” you cry out.

that warm, euphoric feeling washes through you as your pussy continues to clench and unclench around rafe’s cock. he mutters curses under his breath, the raspy sound of his groans and his balls slapping against your clit send you tumbling over the edge.

“‘m coming! goddamn…” you moan as the wave of pleasure swallows you whole.

“right behind you, goddamn your pussy feels perfect wrapped around my cock, fuck!”

rafe’s dick swells, pulsing inside you as he comes with a groan, his cum filling you in long, hot spurts.

i was.. horny.. saw that p!link and yeaaaaah…

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x reader #stripper!reader #blue collar!rafe #obx #obx smut

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rafesbabyg1rl · 3 months ago

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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!

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lostalioth · 5 months ago

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𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬

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

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

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

→ a/n: kinktober 15

You were Bucky's favorite.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ♤ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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metyouinthehallway · 2 months ago

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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.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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starboye · 10 days ago

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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)

#stripper!reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x male reader #x male reader #x male y/n #x male #gay #male reader #gay smut #x male smut #bottom male reader #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n

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urmum-lovesme · 2 months ago

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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! )

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 5 months ago

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Lap Dance

GP!Natasha Romanoff x stripper!fem!reader

Word count: 1.9K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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rafesplaymate · 5 months ago

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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!

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promiscuousg1rl · 1 month ago

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INTRODUCING STRIPPER!READER

STRIPPER!READER who meets dealer!rafe when barry drags him to a strip club one night to celebrate their successful “business”. she’s well-acquainted with barry but for some reason has no idea who rafe is until barry introduces them. he asks her if she can give “country club” a private lap dance.

STRIPPER!READER who is one of the best dancers at the club and it shows in how much money she makes. its caused her to have quite an expensive taste too. while she’s smart with her money she still loves to spoil herself every once in a while; mani pedis, spa-days, shopping strips on the mainland, etc.

STRIPPER!READER who had a strict “no dating customers” policy until rafe came along and swept her off her feet. after the night they met, rafe turned into a man on mission. he started coming to the club without barry, requesting her and only her for private dances. and always ended up paying more than he owed. he became her biggest tipper.

STRIPPER!READER who LOVES the dancing aspect of her job. she used to be a ballerina dancer when she was younger and had hopes of becoming a principal dancer. but unfortunately she was told that she didn’t have what’s known as a “ballet body” and decided to quit. it broke her heart to do so did the idea of being turned down by her dream company.

STRIPPER!READER who gave in to rafe quicker than she thought she would. once rafe showed her that he valued her for more than just her body, the walls she had up fell apart brick by brick. it was her first time letting someone else take care of her for a change and it felt good.

dealer!rafe and stripper!reader meeting for the first time

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cxrdycxps · 8 months ago

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Pillow Talk • Joel Miller

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

Main Masterlist • Joel Miller Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joel, I’m gonna-“

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

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

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

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

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cameronsprincess · 8 months ago

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

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

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

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

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rafesbabyg1rl · 3 months ago

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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!

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southrnbelle · 2 months ago

Text

❝Six feet under, she gon get that fucking paper.❞

⌗ PAY CHECK. ― Bruce Wayne x StripperꜝReader . . .

warnings&details: Maybe inaccurate depictions of being a stripper? (Guys idk I’m not a stripper, I’m trying to give some rep lol.), timeskips, desperate bruce (I tried.), pussy eating, fingering, praise, dumbofication, thigh fucking, soft → rough, PIV, creampie . . . (This is my first ever finished fic guys. Bear with me yall. I’m not good at dialogue.)

Bruce sat amongst a group of suited individuals in the VIP section under the guise of being a participant. A patron, an exploiter under the crooked underbelly of a bigger operation. Smuggling, laundering—perhaps something bigger.

He was focused. Saying just the right thing, laughing accordingly, taking practiced sips of his wine, exaggerating his behavior to give off the impression that he was buzzed. Though listening to every word with his ears perked like a dog and a recorder hidden in his breast pocket, taking a mental note of everything that moved. Hyper-aware. He’d done this millions of times before. Leaning into the “shallow, self-observed, rich idiot” persona that was the make up of Bruce Wayne, making it so easy for those to dismiss him as completely harmless. Feigning interest in shady deals, luring in dangerous people, attending illicit events like this one, all while subtly gaining intel. After all, it was apart of the job. I mean, who would suspect Gotham’s playboy prince to be Batman?

————————————————————————

The setting was some club in a less fortunate part of Gotham where they say the fun stuff happens, where they say everyone parties all night and can barely remember a thing by the time the light of day shines upon the city. A lively place, a perfect place. The perfect setting for crime to underly the atmosphere. He was close, so close to cracking this that he could feel it feathering up his spine, breathing down his neck, whispering in his ear. He was playing his cards well. Acting, observing, manipulating.

Soon enough he was already slithering out of the scene. Disappearing with some convenient excuse, or a timely distraction before things get too dangerous or before his cover was blown. Planting little clues on his way out for Batman to “find.” A few more details and he’d have enough to pass along to Gordon. He was close to wrapping this up, cracking the case, dismantling the operation.

He was focused… Until, he bumped into you.

You collided with his chest, stumbling back a little from the impact. The tall heels you wore nearly making you loose your balance. He catches you.

Tonight, things had been good. You’d heard from a friend this club was a good spot for work compared to the place you worked at last week. The tips you got were barely enough to keep food in your fridge let alone pay rent. For some reason people always thought strippers made bank, but that wasn’t always the case. But again, tonight things had been good. Some guy was generous enough to slip a few hundreds in the waistband of your panties, and another few hundreds between your tits. And then another guy, and another guy. All with bountiful pockets. Soon enough your duffle was full and you were ready to head home for the night.

You bumped into him completely by accident. Gasping as you nearly tumbled to the floor, his arm wrapping around your waist. Your hand pressed against his chest, feeling the fabric of his clearly expensive tailored suit. Shudders running up your spine. Coat slipping off your shoulders a little, exposing the pretty pink lace underneath. You lock eyes and almost immediately you realize just who he is. Bruce Wayne.

“Fuck—I’m so sorry.” You rush to apologize, fumbling a little, creating some distance, adjusting the strap on your duffle and the coat draped along your body. Your eyes darting away but glancing back like you couldn’t help yourself. “Bruce Wayne.” You mutter, putting on a demure smile, internally trying to calm your nerves, letting out a small huff. “Again, Sorry—“ You say, your eyes darting away again, hands instinctively tightening around your bag.

“It’s okay.” Bruce interrupts, his mask slipping for half a second before flashing a small smile, his voice a touch amused, tilting his head down at you. Your heart races. He was even more attractive in person.

“That obvious?” He asks, chuckling. “And here I thought I was doing a good job at not being recognized.” He finishes, his tone light and teasing. Though the tension and hyper awareness lingering under his mask stirred. His mind racing, thoughts still occupied by his current mission. Recognized. And by a stripper, no less. His brain churning with thoughts about the potential of this situation. This could complicate things.

He studied you, his sharp eyes subtly soaking you up. Taking in every little moment, every little detail, every breath. His nose catching the light aroma of your perfume. An earthy jasmine, a sensual cocoa-ish scent. A soft face adorned in makeup, smoky blue eye shadow resting over your eye lids, long doll like lashes, glossed plush pouty lips, a smudge of glitter on your cheek. A subtle tension in your body despite the pretty close lipped smile on your face. Bag clutched at your side, hands faintly shivering, nervous. Pink lingerie decorating your body like a gift wrapped with a bow. The dainty pink set peaking out of that coat, feet perched up on tall heels bedazzled with pink and silver rhinestones, little risqué anime girl stickers. You didn’t look like a threat. But he could never be too sure.

After the small conversation… for a moment, Bruce forgot the reason he was there. Forgot about the case, the danger. Even as the mission was long over, even as he was in the batcave playing back the recording of voices he was able to get back at the VIP booth… For some reason your being captivated his mind, polluted his usually trained thoughts. A woman he barely knew running around in his head rent free. A woman he’d only talked to for 5 seconds.

————————————————————————

He didn’t even remember how he found himself in this situation.

His face buried between your thighs, legs on his shoulders, lips wrapped around your puffy clit, two fingers pumping in and out of your leaking cunt. His cock throbbing, twitching in a repeated rhythm, and pooling pre-cum in his pants as he feverishly humped his mattress, breathing hard like a psychopath on the other end of an eerie phone call, lapping at your juices like a mutt in rut. Aware of every loud, high-pitched cry that left your throat. Desperate and pathetic. Whimpering between your legs like he was in pain. And god, if this was pain then he’d gladly writhe in agony until his soul was plucked from his body and placed in whatever afterlife waited after death.

“S’good for me. M’pretty girl.” He breathed, pulling away from your glistening cunt for only a moment to gaze up at your dazed expression. Fingers rapidly fucking into your wet, squelching hole. You were too dumb to respond. All slow and incoherent because of his mouth, his fingers. Pussy drooling all over his digits, eyes watery and glazed over, skimpy panties discarded along the floor. Cumming for the… he’d lost count.

He slowly pulls away from your shaking figure, standing over you as he begins to unbuckle his belt.

————————————————————————

You’d wandered back into Bruce’s life unexpectedly. You departed from the last club you worked at due to the drug bust a few months ago. New club, new you, new money.

Or so you hoped.

The nights were slow. You barely scored any good tips, barely scrapped cents at times. And the little money you did earn had to be sectioned off to your employer since you had to pay to work, had to pay for a section in the dressing room. Finding a new club to work at that had some life to it was a hassle.

Until, you bumped into him again.

Just as coincidental as the first time. But Bruce wasn’t here because of some mission. Instead just to keep up appearances. He was dragged here by some business associate who insisted on going, who insisted on “having a good time.” some arrogant buisnessman with a personality as fake as the shallow end of a pool.

You were called over by the associate that dragged him along. Heels clanking against the floor as you perched yourself on the table in front of them. No coat hiding what you had to offer this time. Chubby tits, fat thighs, a skimpy little outfit clinging to your figure like a glove. You wore a black set. A silk fabric that felt soft against your flesh. Bralette, thong panties with a mini skirt that barely covered your ass, a garter snug around your thigh. When you locked eyes you instantly recognized him. Though you decided not to say anything, thinking that you were probably just another forgotten face. After all, he was Bruce Wayne. Was he really about to remember some stripper that bumped into him by coincidence? He was probably just like every other man that walked into this kinda place.

You danced gracefully to the music, certainly putting on a show as it was your job. Unaware of just how intensely he was staring at you. His steel blue eyes eating up all you had to offer like a glutton at a grand feast. His partner nudged him. “Let’s grab a couple’ girls and go riding. Sound fun?”

And there you were, cooped up in a limo with 5 other girls and some rich idiots. The night blurred with a blaze of alcohol, cigarette smoke, faint jazz music, and laughter that was too loud and too hallow to be real. You were sat snuggly in someone’s lap, giving him just what he wanted, a good time. Feeding his ego, letting him lust after you. Lingering touches, explicit whispers, giggling at whatever fell from his drunken lips like he was the funniest fucker in the world. (He wasn’t.) letting his drunken hands graze where they shouldn’t. Though, all you were really worried about was scooping up the cash that fell from his money teeming pockets, feigning interest in his drunken drivel. But your eyes… they kept flickering back to Bruce.

He sat easy with a practiced smirk. Almost detached from the atmosphere of debauchery with his hand wrapped around a glass of bourbon that he barely sipped. His gaze repeatedly darting back to you, as if he was trying to peel back the layers of your practiced circus performance. You could feel the weight of his gaze, for some reason his presence felt heavier than any of the hands that you’d dealt with tonight. Like a persistent presence in the back of your mind that wouldn’t leave, one that lingered in your thoughts.

Your breath hitched as his eyes caught yours, and this time he didn’t look away. Suddenly, the car hit a bump, jolting everyone. Your breath again catching in your throat as you jump in his lap and the man’s arms wrap tighter around your waist. You internally sighed. God, you couldn’t wait for this to be over.

But to your surprise Bruce’s voice cuts through the air. “Let her sit here.” He spoke, his voice smooth as always yet intensely commanding.

The man beneath you blinked dumbly, as if his brain was moving as slow as bad internet. Blinking dumbly as if drunkenly trying to process what was just said to him. His hold on you loosening as bruce stared at him with a stare that almost made him seem like a different person entirely. His grip tightening around his glass.

The man sighed. “Cmon, im having fun—“

Bruce interrupts. “I didn’t ask.” His voice low but calm, with an underlying dangerousness that made both you and the man pause. The man hesitated but his bravado cracked under Bruce’s stare like glass. He let you go without another word and you off of his lap smoothly, fixing yourself up with a practiced nonchalance. Bruce gestured to the seat next to him, his eyes now locked with yours. “Sit.” He commanded, his voice softer as he spoke to you but still firm. You decide not to cause a scene, briefly hesitating before sitting down next to him. The tension in the air between you palpable.

He leans over, whispering to you so only you can hear. The rumble of his voice sending shivers down your spine as he speaks in your ear. “Didn’t think I’d run into you again.”

You gave him a look, raising your eyebrow. “Didn’t think you’d remember.” You replied, keeping your voice neutral. Your hand dipping in your purse to pull out a small makeup mirror, briefly checking your face and appearance before slipping it right back into your bag. He watched you with a widened smirk. “You’re not that easy to forget.”

The comment caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. You crossed your legs. “Well, if I didn’t know any better, Mr. Wayne, I’d say you’ve been thinking about me.” You huff softly in amusement. Bruce chuckled softly, low and rich, as he leaned back against the seat, his arm casually draping across the back of it. “Maybe I have.” He mutters back to you.

Your heart skipped a beat at the honesty in his tone, Before he could respond, the drunk associate across the limo shouted something about heading to a club downtown. The other girls cheered, and the limo started moving again.

But Bruce’s deep voice cut through the noise once more, this time directed at the driver. “Stop the car.”

The driver glanced back, confused, but Bruce’s tone left no room for questioning. “Now.” The limo pulled to a halt at the curb. The other passengers erupted in a chorus of protests, but Bruce ignored them entirely. He turned to you, his expression unreadable. “You’re not staying here,” he said firmly. You blinked, giving him a look, caught off guard by his sudden shift. “And where exactly am I going?” You question, your tone a bit sassy.

“With me,” he said simply. The limo door opened, and he stepped out, waiting for you. The other girls stared, whispering amongst themselves, but you couldn’t hear them over the pounding of your heart. “Your choice,” Bruce said, holding out a hand. His tone was calm, but his eyes—those damn eyes—practically dared you to take it. Against your better judgment, you slid your hand into his and stepped out of the limo, leaving behind the noise, the chaos, and the life you’d grown so tired of.

————————————————————————

That night, you talked as he took you home and placed a very generous wad of cash in your hands. And like you were being drawn together by some invisible string of fate, you kept bumping into him. Outside of work. It was a slow burn. Making conversation every-time you bumped into him until he finally asked for your number. And then the calling, staying up late talking…

That’s exactly how you found your way into a billionaires bed.

With your legs pressed together and thrown over his shoulder. His fat dick pushing between your thighs, sliding between your wet folds, coating his thick cock in your own sticky slick. “Ah—Fuck.” He cursed under his breath, thrusting gently between the thick wads of your flesh as you whimpered and quivered against his mattress. “So wet for me, all mine. yea? Yea baby, say it. Say you’re mine pretty girl.” He panted above you. All over you like paint on a fucking canvas.

You were so wet that he could just slip right in. It’s so fucking hot. So soaked that your juices were dripping down your ass like condensation on a cold cup. Your secretions mixed with his, your slick and his pearly pre-cum. You wanted him inside. Needed him. Needed him so badly—to just sick it inside of you and get stuck, to never come out. “Please—“ You whined, pawing at his arms that were wrapped around your legs as he continued to thrust against your pussy. “Please, Bruce—“ the sound of your voice made his cock throb painfully.

“You want it? Hmm?” He asked softly, almost mockingly. “You want my cock baby? Beg for it.” He panted, increasing his pace. Fucking his dick against your pussy in a frantic manner. His hips plapping against the bottom of your ass. Every movement making your body jolt and the bed creak. The continuous claps sounding through his spacious bedroom, echoing off the walls. Beg for me to fuck you.” He grunts. “Cmon.” He urges, the words on his tongue sounding reminiscent to a feral growl.

You let out a loud cry of his name. “Bruce—please?” You whimpered out. “Inside, please—please. Need your cock, need you in my pussy—!” You babbled dumbly, obediently. Wanting nothing more than to be stuffed full of his meaty cock, wanting nothing more than for it to split you open and abuse your poor little hole. Begging on repeat like a generated mantra.

And he gave you exactly what you wanted. Fixing the position, pulling his wet length from between your thighs and spreading your legs wide open. liquids splashing as he repeatedly smacks his cock against your slit, as if testing it out. Poking his tip against your entrance before pushing your thighs to your chest and pushing inside. You let out a strangled cry as he spears himself inside of you, your cunt so slick that he slid in without hassle. Bottoming out with a loud groan, so deep that you could feel him in your tummy.

He straightens his back as if preparing himself before he slams into your hole one good time, pausing briefly before beginning to jackhammer your pussy with a brute force. Your moans loud and clear like crystal, your sweaty hands bunching the sheets in your palms. His thick cock finding places in you that make your eyes roll back and your mouth fall open in a silent scream. Clenching around him like a vice, pussy splashing like a puddle with every thrust. The sheets below soaking up your essence.

“Oh, look at that—All messy for me.” He leans in closer, his face right above yours. “Feels good, huh?” He cooed between thrusts, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. His nose gently nuzzling your temple down to your cheek, a gentle gesture which sent butterflies to your tummy. You babbled beneath him, eyes glossy. Your body quivering violently beneath him, moans falling from your lips on repeat. “Bruce—Bruce—Bruce…” You mewled. “Mgh…” Every thrust setting your nerves on fire with a pleasure your brain could barely comprehend. His grip on your thighs so harsh you swore there’d be bruises left behind.

It didn’t take long for that familiar knot to build in your tummy. Your orgasm already so close by. He was going so fast, so hard. Every thrust knocking the fucking breath out of your throat. He could feel you getting close. Increasing his pace, pinning your thighs down against you. Fucking his cock so deep inside of you, so quick like a rabbit in spring. Rutting against you so ferally that drool began to pool from your lips, down the side of your mouth. Eyes shutting tightly as you beared the brunt of his rough thrusts.

He groaned loudly as he felt your walls clench around him. “G’nna cum for me?” He asks in a breathy manner. “Can feel you baby—so tight, so good.” His voice stroking your insides as if it were his own cock, like fanning a fire. “So fucking pretty.” It was so messy, so nasty. Slick wetting his pubes as he buries himself deep, hips flush against your thighs, his base against the mound of your cunt. Creamy and wet.

He can feel his own cock throbbing in your pussy, his own orgasm near as he continued to repeatedly buried himself in your hole. By now you were both sweating, lost in a sea of ecstasy. Your vision practically going white as a hot wave of bliss ran over you. You both came at exactly the same time. His hips sputtering as he empties his fat globs of cum in your womb, your cunt clenching and milking him for all he has to offer like a god damn cow. He chases his orgasm, his pace slowing as he drags his length in and out of you. Throwing his head back and releasing a soft cry, his hips finally coming to a stop. You shake and quiver beneath him, reeling from in aftermath of your orgasm, a purely stunned expression on your face. Fucked out. He slowly pulls out of you, his cock falling limp. His spend leaking from your gaping, pulsing hole and onto the sheets below you.

He’d never had a woman make his head so unclear.

I tried guys 😓😓 hope you enjoyed. Towards the end and rhe ending is a little ehh, my writing gets kinda lazy frl. Need Bruce Wayne in my guts. 💪 feedback in the comments plsss.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne smut #stripper!reader #smut #SoundCloud #Spotify

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