sugar on the rim | stripper!honey summary: pope didn't really want to go to a strip club for his birthday, but maybe it's not so bad when he receives a private dance by the headliner, Honey.
T-Shirt | 18+ chapter summary: It wasn't until last week that he realized that Honey dressed in themes differently from the other girls. She didn't wear traditional lace and bodysuits. Her attire was almost theatrical - an experience. A part of him tried not to feel jealous at the thought of other men getting such an experience.
warnings: smut, mentions of assault (man grabs dancer), fighting notes: hi guys, somehow my writing inspiration returned after watching the pitt and I decided to rewatch animal kingdom. This character was originally for a jax teller story, but writing her with pope became easier! I also am not the best smut writer, and I was hesitant to include it in this, but it flowed better with it. i do for sure have two more little blurbs/one-shots, but I have gotten really attached to this iteration of this honey that there will probably be more. additionally, I have more versions of honey planned that I hope my inspiration stays for me to write. i also want to give a shout out to @girthgrudgefear as their small piece of pope x stripper!reader gave me the push to fully go through with fleshing this out more and to post this.
WESTERN
Like most jobs, there were the pluses and minuses. Stripping isn’t something Honey is ashamed of. Stripping is the one way for her to remain close to one of her loves in life, which was dancing. Dancing is her one escape in the world ever since she was little. Despite what most would think, there isn’t any cattiness backstage amongst the girls and the bartenders, bouncers, and owner ensured they were safe and cared for. Most girls wanted to come in, do a shift, and go home. The girls are trying to pay their way to college and pay bills.
Being one of the older dancers, Honey is almost a mother figure to them as she would help them navigate the world of college, loans, and being a young woman.
Besides, dancing keeps her in shape as well.
One of the job's minuses is the specific clientele.
98% of their clientele are men, and 2% are women.
Men could be grabby, rude, and over all assholes. Not all of them, but most.
The women for Honey were always her favorite to dance for, especially at parties. The women are there for a good time, and their joy is infectious. It always felt more fun dancing for women, especially when they would try to join her in dances.
Yet, most of the time, Honey dances for men who thought she owed them or was something to be bought.
So tonight, she isn’t particularly looking forward to the private party she and a few other girls are booked for, especially when she knows that her fellow dancers have offered things off the menu. Honey doesn’t judge; she just cautions them to be safe and not to serve everyone.
She is familiar with the party for which she was booked. The Codys are as infamous as the beaches in Oceanside. Honey was fortunate enough that she had been growing up just a little out of the age range of the boys’ social groups; out of all of them, she is more familiar with Craig due to his presence in the club, and he used to mess around with a few of her friends.
They were more into surfing, and she lived at a dance studio. So her interactions with the Codys were few and between.
Though it is one of the brothers’ birthdays, Andrew, or Pope, as he went by, she heard Pepper and Jasmine talking amongst themselves about one of the brothers specifically requesting girls who offered more.
Honey is confused about how she landed in the middle of all this. However, the Codys had money, and even her boss isn’t ignorant that one of the brothers, Craig, was a frequent high-paying customer, and he wanted the best.
She assumes this was why she is alone in a room with Andrew Cody.
One thing she learned and honed in on as a dancer was to dissociate. It was easy to get lost in the music as she undulated her hips. And even though most girls found it a bit tacky, Honey made sure to have theme nights for herself. And tonight happened to be her Western theme. Besides being a headliner, she needed to give people reasons for coming back. She needs to provide these men with fantasies, as that is why they are here. They want to escape and feel powerful.
And Honey finds it’s not hard most days as she gets plenty of offers from men wanting her to be their mistress, who will put her up in her place in the more exclusive areas of The Strand and Oceanside overall.
Yet, tonight, she thinks her little outfit isn’t catching the eye of her customer. She has a bedazzled bra and ass-less chaps, yet for the sake of earning more tips, she has on a pair of black bikini briefs that she only untied at the end of private performances, and only for her loyal, high-paying customers.
While dancing, it is essential to make eye contact, yet in dim lighting, it is easy to look over men’s shoulders and give the illusion of empty smiles.
Yet, this customer sat stone-faced in his seat as his hands clutched the armrests. She wasn’t even sure if he was enjoying the dance, even as she undid her bra. Usually, that gets her a reaction; he does nothing except stare.
However, as she moves from the stage to his lap, she assumes he is enjoying it, if what she feels beneath her is any indication.
When the 30 minutes are up, he stuffs her hand with cash and politely waits for her to redress herself before they leave the room.
He is her easiest customer for the night.
CHEERLEADER
Honey doesn’t think about the Codys, or Pope, specifically, for the rest of the week, despite the enormous tip that Pope had given her. Instead, she focused on her routine for Sunday for her headliner performance. And it was the week her two longest customers, Mr. Briggs and Steven Carmichael, were making their routine visit.
Mr. Briggs is an elderly investor, entrepreneur, and businessman who owns things in and out of Oceanside. He is old enough to be her father, and she is sure his youngest daughter is her age or younger. She knows he is married to a highly conservative Christian woman, who is highly involved in a local church. When Mr. Briggs comes to the club, it’s always through a special access door that leads to one of the private suites for privacy.
Since she showed up at the club at 23, he has requested Honey.
He is nice despite consistently trying to pay her for things off the menu or, worse, constantly offering her his home to be the weekend lover. She doesn't want to call him sweet, as a man like him has to be ruthless in business. Yet, she knows to be sweet and seductive with him, as one night with him, she makes her rent payment for the month.
Steve Carmichael is a retired pro-surfer. Now, he has his merchandise line associated with surfing and sponsors local talent. He is single, but she is under no illusion that in all the places he owns a home, a girl is waiting in an empty house like the one he consistently tries to place her in.
Although Honey blames herself for being young and naive and allowing him to be the only customer she ever slept with.
Yet, she may have another regular customer.
It’s late on Thursday night when she spots him. He looks awkward and out of place in his button-up. His eyes glance around the dancers. She watches as a few dancers try to approach him, but he rebuffs them. She shakes her head in amusement as she approaches him. His eyes lock on her, and he trails down her body over her outfit, which was that of a cheerleader, as she walks to him.
She throws him a coy smile. “Want a dance?”
He nods awkwardly before she leads him to a private room, nodding towards Cliff, who keeps guard of the area.
She gently guides Pope to a chair. “So that you know, this is only a dance.”
He nods in compliance before she begins moving to the song playing. This time, she doesn’t fake eye contact with him as she moves around. She notices his eyes can't seem to stay focused on her face. In fact, he seems entranced by her belly ring.
Despite his being here, he still seems stiff.
While she cages his lap with her legs, she grabs his hands and places them on her hips. He looks up at her, alarmed, but she gives him a bemused smile. She leans down next to his ear, “Relax.”
It takes a few minutes, but he does. She smiles at him genuinely as she continues her routine, and not once does he move his hand from anywhere other than her hips.
POISON IVY
“Do you always dress in theme?”
Honey looks at Pope inquisitively. She believes these were the first words he had ever said to her. She shuts the door to the private room and twirls in her costume for show.
She is wearing a red wig in a half-updo with two buns on top. Her outfit is a one-piece monokini with a scrunch-butt bikini bottom. The bundle of leaves mixed with rhinestones is strategically placed to cover her breasts.
She smiles at Pope underneath her eyelashes as she leans up to his ear and grazes the spot on his stomach above the lines of his jeans with her nails. “Do you like it?”
She thinks it is adorable watching the tip of his ears turn red. “It’s nice,” he settles on.
She laughs as she removes her elbow-length fishnet gloves and stuffs them in his front pocket.
“Just nice?” She teases.
Pope doesn't reply, but she can see the flush building in his cheeks.
He is turning out to be her favorite customer.
NURSE
Pope didn’t expect to become a regular at a strip club. He hadn't been thrilled when his brothers added that as a stop in his birthday celebration, and even worse when Baz announced he got him a private dance with the headliner, Honey.
He didn't know what to expect when entering the private room. Craig had already moaned about him getting to have a private dance with Honey. Apparently, Honey wasn't cheap, and Craig never had the cash for barely 15 minutes with her.
Pope swears he remembers Craig coming to him with a busted nose when he was 16 from a girl named Honey.
Pope didn't get to ponder those thoughts as he watched Honey come out in a lasso and assless chaps, fake guns in holsters to her sides.
He had watched in a trance as she controlled her lasso and the way she moved her hips. The way her gold dripping honeycomb belly ring glinted under the club’s light. Worse, the feeling of her pert ass grinding on him and the smell of something sweet like marshmallows, vanilla, and caramel infiltrated his senses long after the dance.
Yet, he noticed she didn't dance like she was scared of him or that she was dancing for a Cody. He felt normal just being a customer. Even with his brothers, they walked around on eggshells. In that room with Honey, he was just another customer.
He thought that would be the last time he would see Honey.
After another night of no sleep and another re-run of Planet Earth, he had idle time.
He had made his way to the strip club before his mind caught up.
He tried not to feel disappointed that he couldn't spot her. A part of him felt foolish for having hope. Yet, he spotted a figure approaching him in a skimpy cheerleader outfit. She seemed happy to see him.
He followed her silently into a private room and recalled the look she threw at him and her words, indicating that she only danced. He had nodded, as he did not argue, and he would never push for more despite knowing a few girls offered.
Despite the warning, she did place his hands on her hips. He could still feel her heat and the smoothness of her skin. The smell of her perfume infiltrated his senses. He recalled her sweet smile and the way it reached her eyes. He can't remember the last time someone smiled at him.
Returning home, he fell asleep easily that night.
It wasn't until last week that he realized Honey was dressed in themes. She didn't wear traditional lace and bodysuits.
Her attire was almost theatrical - an experience. A part of him tried not to feel jealous at the thought of other men getting such an experience.
He had to admit her poison ivy costume was his favorite. She gave Uma Thurman a run for her money. He recalled the bikini bottoms he itched to pull and wondered if she would let him. He knew that she would never let him touch her in that way. Yet, the fantasy of her and her sweet smile fueled him to feel longing, the craving of a soft touch. The way she sometimes giggled at him despite his lack of words in his responses was enough to forget the demons perched on his shoulders.
Instead, he had pulled the green fishnet gloves out of his pockets, inhaling deeply for traces of marshmallows, vanilla, and caramel, and held them tight in his fist while he worked to find release.
Walking into the strip club, he is curious about her outfit tonight.
. . .
Tonight is a night of hell for Honey.
Most would think it’s common for men to get quite grabby, but it's not. Sure, they had assholes every night, but most strip clubs have their regulars who respect the rules and look out for the girls. It’s typically any out-of-towners, or fresh 18-year-olds, and drunk college boys that get a little too hands-on.
Tonight is one of those nights, especially since some surfing events are happening. Everyone is on edge, especially regarding a table filled with some Portuguese surfers. Cole, their bouncer, had walked over to them several times, especially as one seemed to be getting rough with Jasmine.
Honey typically had no problem taking over a rough table on such nights. She had done it for the green girls, who didn't know how to regain control.
Yet, she feels she might have gotten a little over her head with these guys.
At most, on the floor, Honey only goes topless. It is for private dances with loyal, high-paying customers that she ever went full nude. Yet, this table did not seem to understand the word no as the men kept tugging on the strings of her bottom despite the clear no-touching signs.
She would usually redirect with a laugh and a quip, so that the men usually knew they were reaching their limit. After all, men loved to test boundaries.
Yet, the man kept persisting with his friends, egging him on.
“Sir, I think it's time for you and your friends to take your party elsewhere if you can't respect the club rules, " she tells the group. At this point, she knows Cole needs to escort them out.
Yet, in her move of walking away, she makes a fatal mistake of turning her back. The man grabs her roughly, causing her to cry out in shock at the pain of his grip.
She goes to scream for Cole, but she is ripped out of the man's grip. She is in a stupor as the Portuguese man is thrown on the floor.
It takes her a while to recognize the bulky form of Pope.
Cole is trying to intervene as Pope continues to punch the man. The club is silent as they watch Pope beat this man to death.
Cole and Cliff finally manage to pull Pope from the man. Pope is heaving in anger. She can hear her boss telling everyone the show is over as he works to try to get the club to focus on the drinks and the dancers. Honey follows Pope, who is taken outside by Cole.
Cole frowns at her following them.
“I'll be okay,” she answers his silent question. Yet, she knows Cole is still waiting on the other side of the door for her to walk back to him.
Pope is silent and staring at the moon.
She isn't sure what to say. She has seen her fair share of violence. She isn't queasy or revolted. It is just the intensity she had seen from him. And she is familiar with the Codys, particularly Pope, who is known for violence.
“I'm sorry you had to see that.” He tells her without turning to look at her.
Honey licks her lips and folds her arms around her chest. “Can you give me a ride home?” she asks gently.
She is unsure if he even hears her, but he nods.
She holds out her hand for him. He looks so confused at her, but he does grab it as she leads him back inside. She doesn’t bother changing into her sweats and tank top and just switches her platform stilettos into her slip-on Converses and slides on her jacket.
She follows Pope silently to his truck and thanks him quietly as he opens the door to let her in.
The ride is quiet, and she is unsure what to say, so she is silent as Pope drives her to her place. She lives in a small two-bedroom house on the Strand. It was a bit pricey, but it is her home since she returned to Oceanside.
Pope pulls up in front of her place. She notices that he is clutching the steering wheel hard, and in the light of the moon, she can see the blood on his knuckles.
“Come inside?”
He looks at her with wide eyes as if he is shocked she would ask that.
“Please.”
She almost misses his nod, but he opens his door and escorts her to her door. She wonders if she is making a mistake.
Sure, she is aware of the Codys, but she doesn't know them. And most would think her crazy, out of all the brothers, she would have Pope in her home.
She directs him to sit on her green velvet couch before she escapes to her bathroom for her first aid kit.
Returning to the living room, Pope looks stiff and out of place. Reminiscent of how he was during their first dance.
“Let me look at your hand.”
Pope seems to realize that his knuckles are bloody as he looks at them and flexes them. “You don’t have too…”
“I want to,” she tells him as she settles in front of him between his thighs. “Besides, it would be a shame for my outfit to go to waste.”
Pope’s eyes zone in on her outfit for tonight, which was that of a sexy nurse. The skirt is barely existent, and her top was of a pleather material that made her modest breasts look like a C cup.
She notices his eyes are stuck on the zipper, threatening to burst.
He doesn’t fight her as she begins to clean his hands gently.
“Are you okay?” She asks him. She looks up to find him already staring at her. She feels her cheeks become warm.
“This is nothing,” he replies quietly. “Are you?”
“Not my first bar fight, slugger,” she replies, almost laughing at his sour look.
She finishes wrapping his hand and kisses his bruised knuckles. She can tell he is uncertain, and being in an unfamiliar place probably makes him more anxious.
“Thank you.” He tells her as he gently flexes her hand.
“I’ll see you next week?” she asks, leading him to her door. He nods before making his way to his truck. She laughs as he doesn’t pull away from her house until she closes the door and is safe inside.
PLAYBOY BUNNY
“It’s a little on the nose, don’t you think?”
Honey, who has found her home on Pope’s lap, leans back in and raises an eyebrow at him. She is surprised when she feels his hand squeeze the fluffy cotton tail of her costume. His healing hands trail to the front of her strapless corset teddy. They look better than they did last week.
Her hands trail up from his broad shoulders into his growing hair. She thinks she can distinguish little curls forming in his dark hair. She had been eager to see him since last week. It didn't help that the days were slower, as if the universe knew her feelings for Pope.
She knows her tips were shit for the night as she barely worked the floor waiting for him to stroll through at 1 AM, an hour before closing. He had barely made it in before she was dragging him to a private room.
She leans down to his ear, “Like you didn’t have a favorite playmate?”
He doesn’t give her a verbal response, but his hands tighten around her waist, especially as she grinds purposefully on him. It’s not the little teasing moves she makes on the customers. This is purposeful in movement. It’s meant to elicit a response. She wants his response.
At this point, Honey has concluded that Pope isn’t a regular customer. He intrigues her, and he is probably the only customer who has. She wants to know what's hidden beneath his guarded stares and the stories of his rough hands and scars.
She can feel him beneath her, and she is sure a wet spot is forming between the two of them. His eyes trail over her form. She can see his want more clearly than any other night she has been on his lap. “I don’t recall you being a centerfold.”
She wraps her arms around his neck, the air between them thick and heavy. “Take me home tonight?”
. . .
It's under an hour that Pope has Honey naked in bed with his head buried between her thighs. Her clothes are scattered across the floor of her bedroom. Honey only managed to get his shirt off and jeans undone before he gently threw her on her bed.
“Andrew,” she keens as he drags the flat of his tongue across her folds, fingers tightening on his growing hair. Her thighs are trembling with the promise of release as she arches her back.
“Look at me,” he commands once he realizes her eyes are shut.
Honey obliges with no complaints even if it's a struggle as he closes his lips around her clit.
“Fuck,” Honey moans as he sucks gently. “Oh, fuck, I'm gonna-”
Honey's back arches off the bed as she gushes against his mouth. Yet, before she can come down from the aftershock, she feels two of his thick fingers breaching her entrance and his lips closing around her clit again.
She gasps as she protests, “It's too much.”
Pope's fingers are steadily pumping in and out. “You can give me another one.”
Honey is breathless as she whines and withers before him. Her body tightens again with the promise of release. However, Pope's thick fingers vanish and she feels her pussy flutter around nothing.
“Andrew!” Honey's eyes snap open as she finds him standing at the edge of her bed. Admiring her slick form. She can see her release on his lips. His hair is mussed from her fingers.
“Are you sure you want this?” He asks gravely. A part of her is in disbelief that he would ask her that after he was just buried between her thighs. Yet, as she catches her breath, she feels the question is filled with a heavier meaning than just sleeping with him for the night.
“I want this,” Honey replies without hesitation.
He doesn't second-guess himself, or her, as he removes his pants with his boxers in one move. She swallows as she sees his length, stiff and aching, as he places a condom on.
She is sure he is the biggest she has had based on girth alone.
He crawls over her slowly, hesitantly. Honey can't help but kiss his nose and nibble at his lips when he reaches her face. He pulls her into a deeper kiss as she spreads her legs wider, as she feels him heavy against her thighs.
He pulls back and looks into her eyes. “It's been a while for me.” He says shyly.
She smiles softly, “Me too.”
Honey had been sure that he would have entered her in one sharp thrust. Yet, she is taken back as he sinks into her slowly until he is buried fully inside her. She can feel him trembling. She sighs as her body adjusts to him.
“You okay?” He whispers as he kisses her neck.
Honey nods as she takes a breath. “Please move,” she begs.
He doesn't need to be directed twice as he begins a steady pace that has Honey sighing as her head falls back against her pillow. She brings her legs up higher, and she groans as she slips deeper into her.
“Oh fuck,” she whimpers when his fingers begin rubbing circles on her swollen clit.
Pope continues to push into her slowly, deeply. Honey winds her arms around his neck and pulls him into a kiss as her fingers tangle in his curls. Yet, she needs more.
Suddenly Honey nudges him on his back and in one swift motion she sinks back down on his cock.
“Fuck,” Pope groans as he nudges a spot deep inside that her her squeezing around him. “I'm not gonna-”
“Let go,” Honey whispers as she brings him into a messy kiss as she grinds down on him.
Pope sits up and delivers a sharp thrust. His arms wrap around her tightly as his thrusts turn brutal. Honey's nails dig into his shoulders as she clenches around him abruptly, which triggers Pope's release as he fills his condom. She laments the use of the condom.
She finds herself being turned to lie on her back. She shivers as Pope gently removes himself.
“Sorry,” he says as she hisses at the feeling of the emptiness.
She watches as he removes his condom and throws it in her wastebasket. She lets out a startled yelp when he picks her up bridal style.
“What are you doing?!”
“You need to piss. Don't want you to get a UTI.”
Honey thinks she is going to fall in love with this man.
CIVILIAN
Honey wakes up feeling completely rested, but sore. She moans slightly as her body slowly returns to consciousness despite her wanting to stay asleep. However, she remembers why her body feels so sore, especially as she feels the weight and warmth of a person wrapped around her. Or more particularly a hand underneath the shirt she is wearing, gripping her tit.
A grin takes over her features, and she thinks about last night with Pope. Pope had taken her a second time after she had made a late-night snack. To say it was intense would be an understatement. She knows she will walk funny and must take it easy when dancing.
She grabs his hand and presses a kiss to his fingers, and she is startled when she feels it flex.
“How you feeling?” His voice is rough from sleep.
She turns to face him, a smile on her lips. “Good. How are you?”
“Best sleep I’ve gotten in a while.” He admits.
Honey almost preens at his words. She knows he has just been released from prison, and his mom's place is too crowded from the little they speak. She can only imagine how that messed up his sleep cycle.
She pushes him to lie flat, which he does with no resistance, and she straddles him.
She giggles as his eyes focus on her breasts that are conveniently covered by the opening of his button-up shirt.
In her haste to remove his clothes, she had broken the buttons with a promise to mend them.
His hands grip her thighs, and his thumb rubs circles on the flesh, causing her to shiver. It's quiet between them, and she knows there is no going back. He isn't just a customer anymore.
“You know, I think this is my favorite outfit,” he tells her. There is a vulnerability in his eyes.
She smiles at him and rubs soothing circles on his chest. She can fill his heart pounding, “I think it’s mine too.”