ALRIGHT. SO. IT’S CURRENTLY 7 AM. I DON’T REMEMBER ANY OF THE OPENING NOTES. I DON’T REMEMBER THE PEOPLE TO TAG. I CANT REMEMBER THE HASHTAGS EITHER. RIP ME I GUESS. BUT. TUMBLR’S A HELL-SITE THAT DECIDED NAZIS ARE MORE ACCEPTABLE THAN A GIF OF A GIRL GRINDIN’ ON A BOY FULLY CLOTHED. SO THEY TOOK MY FUCKIN CHAPTER DOWN.
I’m literally only tagging my wifey @wittystiles because she is the reason anyone ever got to see this story in the first place.
Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4
Chapter 3: Come Closer
Song rec: All We Do by Trey Songz, Skin by Rihanna The songs play in the story so play this in order if that’s your thing :)
Warnings: Listen, it’s been forever since I read over this chapter. Swearing is a safe bet cause it’s p much a fixture in my fics. Obvi a lap dance. Other than that it’s a surprise for both you and me lmfao. Gif not really related but like. It’s safe per tumblrs new fucked up standards and also Aesthetic so.
Two weeks later, Mitch was still coming into the club to watch Alexis dance. He would drop a minimum of three hundred dollars on her with each performance. Sometimes he’d give her even more. He followed her when one of the other girls asked to switch platforms, hoping to get some of Mitch’s generosity.
Now Alexis was coming back in after having changed shifts with the same girl, who’d been hoping to get Mitch’s attention when Alexis wasn’t present at all.
“Alexis!” The girl snapped the second the brunette had stepped into the dressing room.
“Rose, what’s wrong?” Alexis asked, confused on why she’d taken that tone.
“That guy! He came in while you were gone, and he gave me ones.” The bleached blonde huffed. Alexis frowned in confusion.
“I swear he’s never done that to me.” She promised.
“Maybe he just likes Alexis, and wants to get her attention.” Another girl piped up as she teased her hair at her vanity. Alexis snorted, thinking if only they knew the real reason.
After Rose’s complaint she realized that Mitch was probably trying to buy her continued silence. She refused to acknowledge why the information gave her a twinge of melancholy as she sat down at her vanity and began applying her makeup.
———
The second she stepped out into the main space Bryce caught her arm and tugged her across the room to a long hallway lined with doors.
“Bryce, what the hell?” She demanded.
“You’ve got a private lap dance lined up.” He told her.
“Okay, with who?” She huffed, tugging her arm free and massaging it to get her circulation back.
“That new regular of yours, he’s in room eight. Get in there and make sure we both get a good tip.” He pushed her down the hall when she didn’t immediately move.
“Uh-...” She hesitated. “The cameras are on right?” She asked.
“Of course they’re on. Now go. Make him happy because happy people blow more money.” Bryce huffed. Alexis sent him a quick glare before hesitantly opening the door and slipping inside room 8. She turned to face the room once the door was closed and locked, ensuring that no one accidentally stumbled in and disturbed them.
Mitch was standing casually in the middle of the room with his back to her, his form dressed in an all black suit, glancing around as if he was only politely interested in his surroundings. He turned when she cleared her throat, effectively getting his attention.
“Have a seat on the chair.” She directed as she walked over to queue a song up on the digital stereo that was built into the wall. The leather padding on the glorified folding chair made unpleasant noises as Mitch sat down on it, and when she glanced back she found him spread on it as if he was perfectly at home, his posture lax, his knees spread to each side of the chair, but his hands were obediently resting against the back legs of the small chair, since he wasn’t allowed to touch her unless she said so. “Comfortable?” She asked.
“As I can be, yes.” He nodded, leaning his torso back to rest against the back of the chair. She nodded and pressed play on the music before making her way over to him as her song of choice began flooding the room with its enticing beat.
She stood in front of him and softly placed her hands on his shoulders for support as she moved her legs to straddle one of his thighs. She started off with a slow grind, swirling her hips back and forth while her hands moved from his shoulders down to his chest. She settled her hands against his ribs underneath the suit coat, her fingers feeling the heat of his skin through the thin material of his black dress shirt as she all but rode his thigh.
She felt his eyes on her and ignored them as best she could, keeping her gaze down, her eyes half lidded as she stared at her hands on him. She had to move to hold his upper arms when they inched forward after a particularly hard rotation of her hips that brought her leg brushing up against his groin. He huffed out a breath, probably in annoyance over being reminded of his restrictions, and she stood up before flipping around so her back was to him, her legs on either side of his other thigh. She settled back down on him and pulled her hair from her back so he had an unobstructed view as her ass wiggled teasingly close to his hips but didn’t quite touch.
The smallest sound, not quite a groan but close, floated to her ears and she felt a small smirk steal across her lips, feeling powerful with the control she held over him in that moment.
She leaned her back up against his chest, consequently pushing her chest out for his viewing pleasure, and snaked a hand up around the back of his neck and into his hair. The position brought her backside in direct contact with his crotch and she bit her lip against the urge to smile at feeling his hard length pressing up against her.
Normally she’d be annoyed, counting the seconds and waiting for the blissful moment when the dance would be over and she could be paid, but Mitch wasn’t her usual type of customer. He wasn’t fat, balding, and sweaty, eagerly waiting and hoping that she’d allow him to put his hands all over her. He was built with lean muscle, unnervingly attractive, and poised in the way that a lion was as he coiled waiting for his chance to pounce. He had a predatory danger in the air about him and it thrilled Alexis as much as it scared her.
Her head leaned back against his shoulder and her eyes opened, unsure of when she had closed them, but remained hooded as she met his focused stare. His honey eyes were dark, whether from the dim lighting in the room or his arousal she couldn’t puzzle out, and his looked at her as if waiting. She didn’t know if it was that anticipating look or what, but she found herself turning her head and speaking into his ear.
“Feel free to touch me, if you’d like.” She breathed. His hand met the outside of her left leg, his touch almost hesitant as his fingers curled into the soft skin lightly and his palm dragged up higher. When she closed her eyes and hummed at the warm feeling he allowed his other hand to grab at her hip, his pinky finger dipping just under the edge of her metallic black shorts.
“Where am I allowed to touch?” His low voice asked against her ear.
“I’ll tell you if I don’t like where your hands wander.” She promised. With that open ended consent his touch began to roam across her exposed skin, looking for his boundaries.
He didn’t meet them, even when his fingers moved across her leg to her inner thigh, gripping and pulling her legs open wider. She felt his other hand trail up across her stomach to the bottom of her sternum, and had to withhold a shiver when his fingertips just barely teased their way underneath the fabric in the middle of her metallic black bikini top.
The song was drawing to a close and her grinding slowed, drawing out the feeling until the last note played. She stopped but didn’t immediately stand like she normally would, eager to get away from the client that was usually panting across the back of her neck. Mitch’s hands moved away from their provocative spots and settled on her hips.
“Can I pay for another?” He asked, his voice the epitome of calm even as she felt him twitch through his slacks against her backside.
“If you want, I can give you the second dance now and you can pay after.” She offered, standing up and stepping away from him, mourning the loss of touch as his hands slipped away from her body.
“I would like that, then.” He agreed and she nodded before heading back over to the audio control panel. She selected another song and walked back over.
“Any requests on how you want me?” She asked coyly. He took her hand in his and pulled her forward until she was standing over his thigh again.
“I don’t mind, as long as you’re facing me.” He smirked, watching her settle herself along his leg. “Can I still touch you?” He asked as he released her hand.
“If you’d like.” She shrugged, acting aloof. His hands moved to rest against her hips, loosely holding her as the new song started up and she resumed the grinding rotation of her hips against his body. Her rhythm matched perfectly to the music, her hips working over him slowly when the melody dragged out slow and sensual, and then she quickened her pace when the music picked up. She changed position, going from straddling one of his thighs to swinging her leg over his other until her hips were flush against his. She felt him push his hips up the slightest bit and nearly forgot to hold in her groan as she slowly dragged her hips back and forth across him.
Her hands moved along her own body, her fingertips trailing slowly up her ribs before she turned her palms around and began pushing her hands up over her chest to her neck and up into her hair as she leaned her torso back. She came back up with her chest mere inches from his face as her hands landed on his shoulders. Her hair curtained their faces as her fingers snaked up around the back of his neck and wove into his hair. She tugged gently and he tipped his head back in compliance, staring up at her with his now nearly black eyes.
“If you’re here to make sure I’m not talking to anyone about what happened, I promised I wouldn’t tell a single soul and I don’t break promises.” She said just loud enough to be heard over the music. Her mouth opened in an involuntary exhale when his hands slid down over her ass and gripped it tightly, tugging her over him roughly.
“I’m here because I paid for a lap dance, Alexis.” He taunted.
“You know what I meant.” She gave a deliberately firm grind against him and watched his eyelids lower slightly for a second as his jaw clenched before his gaze focused back on her.
“You interest me, Alexis. I want to learn more about you.” He explained earnestly.
“You could have come by and asked me to coffee, Mitch.” She teased. “Then you’d only be blowing four fifty instead of three hundred dollars every night.”
“I couldn’t care less about how much money it would take to entice you, Alexis. And if I’d approached you outside your apartment would you really have agreed to accompany me?” He pointed out.
“I would.” She promised.
“Out of fear.” He clarified. She didn’t deny it and he shook his head. “That’s not what I want from you. I don’t want you to comply with what I want because you’re afraid of telling me ‘no’.” He explained.
“So stalking me at work is a better option?” She snarked before she could stop herself. He simply grinned, happy that she’d revealed a sliver of her true sass to him.
“I’m a paying customer, Alexis.” He smirked.
“Lexi.” She corrected as the song ended. “I prefer Lexi. If you’re going to keep calling me by name.” She added.
“Alright, Lexi.” He agreed, releasing his hold on her body to allow her to get up. She stepped away and fixed the areas of her outfit that had been tugged out of place while Mitch reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He stood and handed her a few bills folded in half. “Thank you for the dance.” He said politely, buttoning his suit coat closed before he turned and left.
It was only once he was gone and she was left alone in the dark room that Lexi realized just how much his touch had affected her, as she felt a dull wanting ache throb from low in her gut.
--------
< C2 - - C4 >
I’m not gonna re-add tags cause that’s just an annoying waste of time lmfao.
Your voice is a hymn I long to hear
Your name is a prayer perched on my lips
I’m a sinner but
One glance from you and I feel like I’ve been blessed
Holding you is like finding a sanctuary i hadn’t realized I’d been searching for
Your presence feels as if I’m stepping onto holy ground
And if that’s blasphemy, well
I’ll gladly fall to my knees and burn
For something holy
This is my original work. Do not use without my permission. Do not repost.
A/N: I wanted to. That’s it. That’s the whole reason. I don’t apologize for this being ridiculous because it’s completely self indulgent and basically just me spilling out ideas that won’t stop plaguing my every waking moment.
Ronan was on that precarious edge of consciousness and sleep leaning more toward the latter finally after an endlessly long day of shadowing his queen as she walked through the entire castle taking care of various housekeeping matters, issuing military movement orders, appealing to nobles, and the continued meet and greets with a variety of foreign diplomats and royals who made their intentions known that they’d love to wed the new queen. And after all that had been done, he had to meet with the other knights and guards to discuss the changes in the security of the castle, mainly the tightening of it. He didn’t even get to eat until near midnight, and once he was done scarfing down his food he could barely bring himself to wash up quickly before he entered his quarters and collapsed on his bed, exhausted.
So, finally, Ronan was close to unconsciousness. And then his door opened. He lifted his head, ready to tell whoever it was to leave him the fuck alone, when his eyes found Charlotte quickly closing the door behind herself with one hand as the other held a nub of a candle to provide some light.
“My lady?” He asked, watching her spin around so fast to face him that the small flame nearly gave out. “What are you doing here?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” She explained, leaning her back against the door. “Do you mind if I stay a while?” She asked quietly. Ronan shook his head and forced himself to move to the far side of the bed. Charlotte stepped further into the room and set the candle on the bedside table before pulling off the robe she’d thrown over her nightgown and climbed into the bed when Ronan lifted the blanket for her.
He sighed softly as she squirmed around until she was curled up facing him with and arm thrown over his middle and her legs tangled up with his.
“Comfortable?” He asked when she finally settled.
“Remind me to have softer beds made for you and the other knights and guards...”
“So sorry, not all of us can have a bed fit for a queen,” He chuckled when she mock punched him for the taunt. “Why couldn’t you sleep?” He asked when things fell quiet. Charlotte didn’t say anything right away and he turned his head down to press his lips to her hair. “Nightmares?” She gave one quick twitch of her head in affirmation.
“I’ll only stay for a little while,” She promised. Ronan shook his head and wrapped an arm around her waist.
“Stay as long as you want. I don’t mind,” He assured her.
“I don’t want to bother you, I know you’re tired-”
“Charlotte... It’s okay,” He said.
“Okay,” She shifted closer and he felt her soft exhale spread warmth over his chest. His fingers drew idle swirling patterns along the back of her hip and he felt her relax in his hold. In no time at all Charlotte was breathing deep and even, peacefully asleep.
Carefully, Ronan lifted his head focused on the flame of the candle until it snuffed itself out. He settled his head back against his pillow and closed his eyes, listening to the soft exhales of his queen, he fell asleep.
A/N: This is just a scene I have planned, but from a different POV cause I felt like it, so. This is just a very rough draft blurb and it’s entirely unedited cause fuck editing it’s like 2:30AM rn and I ain’t about that coherent shit lmfao.
He was crouched down, staring into the fire for longer than what made her feel comfortable and she frowned, regretting how she’d yelled at him earlier. He’d only wanted to make sure she stayed healthy, after all. With a huff she finished straightening the blankets on the bed and then turned to him, wrapping her arms around herself.
“Are you okay?” She asked quietly, and she watched as he stood.
“Fine, just thinking,” He said, his voice calm and measured. Her fingers tapped at her ribs for a second but she didn’t push.
“Okay, are you hungry?” She asked next. He hummed, clearly not listening, and her frown deepened before she walked over to him. She stopped at his side and faced him. Looking at his profile, made golden by the light of the fire she decided not to bite her tongue. “What are you thinking about?”
“Things,” He said absently. She reminded herself quickly that she was feeling remorseful, and that hitting him wouldn’t make it seem very sincere.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” She offered up. Finally, he turned to look at her with a bewildered frown creasing his brows.
“What?”
“Well... I figured you were upset because-”
“Because you shared how you were feeling?” He finished. “No, I’m not-...” He sighed. “That’s not what I was thinking about, I promise.”
Promise or not, he seemed distant to her. But she wasn’t going to push the issue and risk upsetting him worse. So she pursed her lips and looked at the blank wall of the cottage with a bob of her head.
“Charlotte,” His hand cupped her cheek and she fought valiantly against the urge to close her eyes and lean into the warm touch. He guided her to look back at him and only when she met his gaze did he continue. “I promise. I’m not upset with you,” He insisted.
“Then what were you thinking about?” She asked before she could stop herself. He sighed, but his expression was more fond than annoyed. His hand slipped away from her cheek to fall back to his side and she clenched her hands to keep from catching it and putting it back where he’d had it.
“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, or get upset,” He hedged.
“Then I’ll reserve judgement until you’re finished talking,” She offered quickly. He exhaled something close to a laugh and shook his head.
“It’s the judgement at all the worries me,” He muttered.
“Ronan-”
“I was thinking about what Dexter said to you,” He admitted, cutting her off. “And I was thinking that he may have been.... Not entirely wrong?” His expression twisted when hers did. She thought about it for a second and then slid one foot back under the cover of her skirts, in case she had to move away.
“What do you mean?” She asked, worried.
“About-.... About wanting more than just your friendship,” He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at her, gauging her reaction. She kept her face carefully passive, even as her heart picked up rhythm in her chest.
“What would... ‘more’ entail?” She asked, taking a half-step closer as he watched her. She watched him in return and she could almost pinpoint the exact second where he decided. His expression didn’t change visibly but his eyes-his honey colored eyes-lit with intensity just before he stepped forward, into her space, and reached up. His palm slid across her cheek to cup her jaw and tilt her head up, and then his lips were pressing down on hers, and everything was narrowed down to the warmth of his touch.
The warmth of his fingers curling just slightly into her hair, of his lips moving against hers, of his soft exhale spreading over her cheek and chin as he pulled away. For just a fleeting moment she basked in the warmth that was Ronan SinClair, and then he was gone and her eyes opened and she felt as if she’d been pulled from the best dream she’d ever had. And she saw the contrite look his face and felt a pang of worry overtake her.
“I’m sorry,” He said quickly, and all at once she understood. He thought that in those seconds, that wonderful moment, he’d pushed his feelings onto her without her permission. He thought he’d stolen that kiss from her instead of her giving it to him freely, happily.
He took another step back and Charlotte reached forward without conscious thought, her hand caught the front of his shirt and latched on for dear life, reluctant to let his warmth stray any farther from her. And then she’s seeking more, as her free hand wrapped around the back of his neck to bring his head down the few inches separating them, and she was the one kissing him this time. Her kiss lacked the tenderness he’d shown her. Her kiss was insistent, with more pressure as her lips moved against his. She felt his muscles tense as he moved to pull away and she let him go, her cheeks warm with embarrassment at the errant thought of rejection which she ignored.
“You shouldn’t be sorry,” She told him. His eyes searched hers, looking for any hint of doubt, and when he found only sincerity he leaned in and captured her lips once more.
Ahh you’re taking prompts!! How about Stiles for #62 “If you don’t like my teasing, then why are you moaning?” Love your writing! 💕
I am! I’m so flattered that you love my writing! (side note this one ended up being longer than planned cause I just couldn’t stop?? lmfao #SorryNotSorry)
62/58) If you don’t like my teasing, then why are you moaning?”
You were sitting on the couch next to Stiles, watching a corny movie and an even cornier sex scene play out. And when you visibly rolled your eyes at the way the male lead was drawing out the act with teasing kisses and touches Stiles asked you what was wrong.
“This is so boring. All that teasing shit is useless. Just get to it already.”
Stiles asked you what you meant and you had easily elaborated. You were comfortable enough around him to talk casually about sex, seeing as how you’d grown up and suffered sex ed together in middle school. It became a less taboo subject as you’d gotten older, and you both grew close to the point where you’d even complained on occasion about how your date had left you unsatisfied.
“Look, I’ve tried the whole ‘teasing to build suspense or enhance the pleasure’ or whatever. It’s never worked. It wasn’t enjoyable and it just left me disappointed. It’s useless.” You shrugged.
“Maybe the guy just wasn’t doing it right.” Stiles suggested.
“Even if he hadn’t been, I doubt it’d be much better. It’s a waste of time.” You scoffed.
“You don’t know that. The only way to know if it’s still a waste of time is if you experience it with someone who actually knows what they’re doing.” He insisted.
“I dunno.” You were still skeptical. And it prompted Stiles to suggest that he give it a try. You snorted out a laugh.
“(Y/N) I’m serious.” He promised, and looked at you when you studied his expression for even a hint that he might be trying to prank you. If he was you figured he’d back out if you agreed so that’s what you ended up doing.
“Alright, fine, give it your best shot.” You shrugged. He surprised you however, by reaching out and tugging you towards him so he could seal his lips over yours. Mechanically you kissed back, and frowned at him when he chuckled as he pulled away. “Don’t laugh at me.” You warned as his nimble fingers circled your forearm.
“Sorry, but you’re so robotic.” He teased. “It’s not going to work if you’re tense the whole time. Loosen up.” He said as his thumb stroked along your skin.
“It’s… Weird though. You’ve been my friend for how long?” You pointed out. “And now we’re kissing? It’s a little… foreign.” You squirmed.
“Well do you want me to stop?” He asked. You thought about it for a moment. While it had felt strange to kiss Stiles, it wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling. Making up your mind, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his mouth.
What started as a gentle press of lips, quickly evolved into something deeper. Stiles nipped at your lip, and you mewled softly at the slight sting of it, opening your mouth easily to his inquiring tongue. His hands found your hips and he tugged you from your spot beside him, pulling you onto his lap as he leaned against the cushions behind him.
Stiles was pulling you attention in several directions the longer you kissed him. Between the way his tongue teasingly slipped along yours only to retreat so he could suck or bite your lower lip instead, and the way his hands moved along your sides and back, just barely skimming the underside of your breasts with his thumbs, you were beginning to feel the appeal of teasing.
And when his lips broke from yours to pepper kisses underneath your jaw and down your neck, well you were growing impatient. A frustrated grown left your lips the next time you felt his fingers just barely edge along where you wanted his touch. You were willing to admit defeat in the hopes that he would do something more substantial.
“Stiles…” You sounded a little breathless but you couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed. You trusted the man underneath you with your life, having him see this side of you wasn’t something you felt modest about.
“Yes, (Y/N).” He returned, sounding smug. You suddenly felt competitive, unwilling to admit that you were wrong like you had planned.
“I’m getting bored.” You deadpanned. He chuckled and you barely withheld the shiver that tried to rip up your spine over feeling his warm breath fan across your collarbones and chest.
“For some reason, I really doubt that.” He grinned up at you.
“I’m serious. I don’t like it.” You lied.
“Really?” He scoffed. You opened your mouth to reply but he suddenly bit down on the soft skin over your pulse point and a moan slipped passed your lips instead. “If you don’t like my teasing, then why are you moaning?” He asked.
“Smug bastard.” You huffed, tugging his head back to kiss him before he could respond.
When you got the call from your boyfriend saying that he was state side and he wanted to take you to dinner, you agreed without hesitation and jumped into action the second he ended the call.
Showering, you made sure you were presentable. You fluffed and did your hair, and some light makeup. You then hurried out to your bedroom and rummaged through your drawers to find that one set of a matching lace bra and thong that Mitch had admitted drove him crazy. When you found it, you pulled the garments on and walked over to your closet. With single minded purpose you grabbed the dress you kept for special date nights and pulled it on. It hugged your body in all the right places, and the hemline stopped about three quarters of the way down your thighs. The color of the fabric also complimented your skin tone perfectly. It was a miracle of a find and you were beyond excited to watch it work it’s magic on Mitch.
You heard the door open and quickly pulled on a pair of simple black pumps before heading out of the bedroom and down the hall to the living room.
“Welcome home, baby.” You greeted when you saw Mitch locking the door. He turned, a soft smile on his face at the sound of your voice but it froze when he got a look at your form. you watched him as he processed the sight before him, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard while his eyes slowly made their way from your head down to your toes and back up again until he met your gaze.
“You’re not going out in that outfit.” He denied. Biting your lip, knowing he was being possessive, you titled your head innocently and looked down at your dress.
“Why not?” You asked.
“You know why.” He said as he walked purposefully towards you. You backed up with a grin and his eyes narrowed with a predatory gleam. The cat and mouse game had officially begun.
“What’s wrong with my outfit, Mitch?” You asked as you backed around the sofa while he continued to prowl towards you.
“It’s not on the fucking bedroom floor already.” He growled, darting forward and catching your arm. He tugged you into his chest and his lips found yours. You moaned into the rough kiss and reached up to grip his shirt. A gasp fell from your lips when he reached around and grabbed your thighs to lift you onto his hips, your dress riding up to your hips.
“I thought you were taking me to dinner?” You breathed as his lips attacked your neck.
“I want my dessert first.” He decided as he carried you back down the hall.
