#Stripper!reader

[ahoe4chris]

*ೃ༄ 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞˚◞♡ ⃗

ೃ❀࿔ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⁑ 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 (𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲)

ೃ❀࿔ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 ⁑ 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐭 & 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

𝐛𝐟!𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 x 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⠀©⠀ahoe4chris

You walk out of the club just as the sun is starting to rise, the sky painted in soft hues of pink and orange. You pull your coat tighter around yourself and head for home, your boyfriend’s apartment-your shared sanctuary-calling to you like a balm for your tired soul.

When you push the door open, you’re met with a sight that instantly eases the tension in your shoulders. There’s Chris, sitting on the couch, his face lighting up as soon as he sees you. “𝙍𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩?” he asks, setting aside his phone. You nod, too drained to muster much of a response. Chris stands and crosses the room to you, pulling you into his arms. His warmth and the scent of his cologne melt away the remaining remnants of the club.

“𝙂𝙤 𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙪𝙥,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead. “𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙙.”

You blink up at him, confused but intrigued. “𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙙? 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣?”

He just smiles and gently nudges you toward the bathroom. “𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙚𝙚.”

After a long, hot shower, you emerge wrapped in a towel to find him waiting with a neatly folded outfit on the bed—a simple but elegant black sleek dress and a pair of comfortable kitten heels. “𝙂𝙚𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙,” he says, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “𝙒𝙚’𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙪𝙩.”

You raise an eyebrow but obey, curiosity bubbling up despite your fatigue. Once dressed, you let him guide you out the door and into his car. Chris won’t tell you where you’re going, only grinning when you press him for answers.

Your first stop is a boutique downtown. The kind of place with plush carpeting and soft lighting that makes everything feel luxurious. He leads you to the lingerie section, his hand warm and reassuring on the small of your back. “𝙋𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩,” he says, his voice low and intimate. “𝙏𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪.”

You hesitate, your instinct to be practical warring with the indulgence he’s offering. But when he lifts a delicate lace piece and holds it up with a questioning smile, you can’t help but laugh and nod. Together, you select a few sets, his enthusiasm contagious.

The next stop is a shoe store, where he insists you try on several pairs of heels. Not the towering stilettos you wear for work, but elegant, comfortable ones that make you feel beautiful without the pain. He sits back and admires you with a look that makes your cheeks warm, his pride in you shining through.

Dinner follows at your favorite restaurant. He’s reserved a cozy corner table, and as you sip on a glass of wine, you realize just how much the evening is lifting your spirits. The weight of the night melts away under his attention, his jokes, and the way he looks at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

By the time you get home, you’re buzzing with warmth and gratitude. He’s not done, though. As soon as the door closes behind you, he pulls you close, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that steals your breath. He guides you to the bedroom, his touch gentle but insistent, and you let yourself be carried by his care. He takes his time, worshipping every inch of you, his hands and lips tracing over your skin like a prayer. He’s attentive, his focus solely on your pleasure, and you feel the exhaustion of the day replaced by a deep, bone-deep satisfaction.

As his warm long digits rub over your clothed clit, your wetness pools in your panties. Soft moans release from your lips, hinting to him that you need more. "𝙄’𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣’ 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮, 𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙭.” he says, his voice low, husky and filled with lust. Chris pulls down your underwear, nearly drooling at the sight of your wet pussy. He leans in, doing slow circles with his tongue around your clit, as pleasureful moans escape your lips. As he’s pumping two digits into your cunt, your back arching at the over stimulation. He groans against you. “𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨, 𝙘-𝙘𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜!!” you utter, your legs quivering under Chris’s touch. “𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙞𝙩 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮, 𝙘𝙪𝙢 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚,” juices spilling out of you and into his mouth, he licks you clean, like a starving man. “𝙁𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙠𝙠, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮..𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙬𝙤?” he chuckles, licking cum off his fingers.

Later, as you lie tangled together in the sheets, his arms around you and your head on his chest, you realize just how lucky you are. He’s not just your boyfriend; he’s your sanctuary, your partner, and your biggest supporter.

“𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪,” you whisper, your voice soft in the dark.

He presses a kiss to your hair. “𝘼𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨.”

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐲𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐡 𝐢 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐭 , 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲!! 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭!!

𝓧𝓞𝓧𝓞, 𝑻𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒚

[cameronsprincess]

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…

[rafesbabyg1rl]

Private Session

Part one, Part Two , Part Three

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

Pairings: Stripper!Reader X obsessive!Rafe

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

Word Count: 5.9k

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

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

Credits: GIF from this post

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Deal.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm.” You mumble, acknowledging his words.

“No.” He shakes his head, “Say it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“F-fuuck…” You whine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[lostalioth]

𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬

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

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

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

→ a/n: kinktober 15

You were Bucky's favorite.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ♤ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[rafesplaymate]

The Other Woman

Rafe Cameron x Stripper!Reader

݁༉‧₊˚. navigation. ݁༉‧₊˚. masterlist.

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

a/n: there will be no second part

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.

“The other woman has time to manicure her nails

The other woman is perfect where her rival fails.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.

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

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

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

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

“And when her old man comes to call

He finds her waiting like a lonesome queen.

‘Cause to be by her side

It's such a change from old routine.”

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

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

“The other woman will always cry herself to sleep

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

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.

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

© 2024 | rafesplaymate

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Lap Dance

GP!Natasha Romanoff x stripper!fem!reader

Word count: 1.9K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[cxrdycxps]

Pillow Talk • Joel Miller

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

Main Masterlist • Joel Miller Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joel, I’m gonna-“

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

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

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

[sturniolosangel]

SHE KNOWS

drugdealer!chris and stripper!reader headcannons

an: wanted to do headcannons for this kinktober/kinkmas theme because i might want to start making fics about this pairing! lmk how yall feel about them! as always i🤍u.

drugdealer!chris- who knew since he came to the strip club reader worked at with his friends that she were gonna be his favorite.

drugdealer!chris- asked the owner when she was on the schedule just so he could show up.

drugdealer!chris- throws 100 & 50 dollar bills when readers on stage so she knows he’s better than anyone else.

drugdealer!chris- almost cums when reader gave him a lap dance for the first time.

drugdealer!chris- does blow off of her boobs or ass (he’s the only person reader lets do it).

drugdealer!chris- who calls reader over at the strip club to count his money when he thinks he didn’t get paid enough.

drugdealer!chris- is shocked when reader gives him her number from writing it on his wrist with a sharpie with a note saying “call me ;) -your fav stripper”.

drugdealer!chris- ends up paying to take her back to his apartment. (even when she offered to go with him for free).

drugdealer!chris- pays off all the money reader owes to the people that she borrowed from.

stripper!reader- who knew when chris walked through the door he was gonna be hers.

stripper!reader- only lets chris slip money into her panties… even when he reaches a little too down on purpose.

stripper!reader- kisses chris when she gives him lap dances.. even tho she’s not supposed to.

stripper!reader- beats a bitches ass at work because she tried to give her chris a lap dance.

stripper!reader- loves the attention chris gives her… and the money ;)

stripper!reader- was forced from chris to have his name written on her ass at work.

stripper!reader- starts to only have chris as a client knowing it makes her boss mad but chris always pays good.

stripper!reader- asked chris over text what outfit and heels she should wear to work.

stripper!reader- has a stripper pole in her apartment and always puts a free show on for chris (he’s still throwing his ones and lets her keep them)

NSFW HEADCANNONS

drugdealer!chris- grips and smacks readers ass when he’s getting a lap dance.

drugdealer!chris- took reader home for the first time and swore it was the best pussy of his life.

drugdealer!chris- gets high with reader at his house and fucks her on his balcony.

drugdealer!chris- jerks off everytime she sends him a picture of her outfit to work even tho he’s gonna be at the club later that night.

stripper!reader- sends chris seductive pictures of herself knowing he’s dealing with customers.

stripper!reader- who begged chris to do a line off her pussy (ofc he said yes).

stripper!reader- buys the most slutiest outfits for work because she know it’ll make chris take her home and dick her down senseless.

stripper!reader- makes chris point out all of his favorite moves she does on the pole so she can do it on his dick.

[bxnfire]

Passion’s Stage || Toji Fushiguro

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[slytherinsrule89]

Mattheo x stripper reader please🫠

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

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

Smut ahead ⚠️ Beaware

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hope you enjoy :)

[gurugirl]

The Scientist & the Stripper | Jealous

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

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

Warning: 18+ only, smut, spanking, jealousy

❖❖❖

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s enough, mate.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Baby! What are you doing here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled, “Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my god, Harry! Yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harry, please! Oh mmmmmmhh!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Feedback/Thoughts | Support Me! | Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @michellekstyles @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @yousunshineyoutempter @the-gardener-31 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @harrys-foxy @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @evelynlarue @chaptersleftunwritten @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysmimi @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @theroosterswife24 @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @sagcas-latte @anothermannharry @sunflowerhssss @luv-flor7777 @missmielyhoran

*if your tag is orange it doesn't work

[cameronsprincess]

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.

[rafesbabyg1rl]

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

Private Session - part two

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

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

Pairings: Stripper!Reader X obsessive!Rafe

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

Word Count: 4.8k

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

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

Credits: GIF from this post

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The fuck you mean ‘a client’?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And if he doesn’t?” You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

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

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

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 018: Murphy's Law

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

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

* = somewhat smutty chapters ** = smut chapters

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

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

word count: 1.3k words

♡

“I’m Natalia, who are you?”

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

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

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

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

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

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

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

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

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

“Don’t make that face.”

“What face?”

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

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

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

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

“Whatchu got there?”

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

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

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

Your heart sinks.

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

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

“Well do you think he’s at Dustin’s?”

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

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

"Wayne's not picking up."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay," you exhale.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I help you?”

Without violating HIPAA?

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

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

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

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

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

“Shy Girl…” comes a voice behind you.

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

"Wayne..." you breathe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The Henderson boy.”

You can't take it anymore.

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

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

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

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

“It’s not looking good for Eddie.”

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

oh yeah, song of the chapter is...

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

[rafesplaymate]

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི. ݁₊⊹ navigation. ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི. ݁₊⊹ masterlist.

ᡣ𐭩. ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

Hear me out…

thinking about Dealer!Rafe x Stripper!Reader. He’s been kicked out by Ward, leaving North Carolina to make something of himself and come back to prove himself to his father. That’s when he ends up in Los Angeles, the home of opportunity. He quickly ends up dealing in a strip joint in West, Hollywood. Eager to make quick cash. Falling quickly for the most asked for dancer there who has a body and face that most women pay to have, and that has men falling at her feet. Sitting back with a whiskey ‘neat,’ and watching her move around stage as wads and wads of cash get thrown her way as she seductively maneuvers herself into various poses. Eventually she ends up on his lap after he requested a private dance. Falling quickly for that domineering attitude and twisted charisma. Hanging onto every word he says and getting lines of coke done off her busty chest. While he smears it along her gums with his pinky finger. Platform heels digging into his butt as manicured nails scratch large red streaks down his back, when he eventually takes what he wants. Which is her. The two immediately infatuated with each other Bonnie and Clyde style.

“M’gonna make us a fuck ton of money, ‘nd get you out of here.” He moans licking into her mouth right after, “gonna take you back with me to Kildare,” he says while grinding into her, lips brushing hers while she squeaks and gasp into his. Her skin sticking to the black leather seat under her as Rafe takes her apart under the hot pink lights of the private room. “It’s about time I claim my kingdom and you’ll be right alongside me. How’s being queen of your own island sound, baby?” Ughhhhhhhhh…. I might need to expand on this.

ᡣ𐭩. ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

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

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

Strip That Down

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

Word Count: 5.6K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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