Rapper Smut (REQUESTS OPEN)

REMEMBER - SKI MASK THE SLUMP GOD

Rapper : Ski Mask the Slump God (Stokeley Goulbourne)
Character : Y/N (Fem!Reader)

Admiring him from across the room while trying to maintain your balance on the pole, you tried not to objectify him too much. You've hadn't seen Stokeley since your junior year in high school, and now you finally had the courage to speak to him again. Slightly because you had to, though.

Working as a stripper wasn't really in your life plans from an early age. Nobody could have foreseen in your future, but honestly you weren't ashamed of it at all. Now and then you'd see somebody you knew from long ago wander in, but the place was pretty busy so you never had time to chat long; which was good for you.

Considering it was your high school sweetheart this time, you weren't nearly as confident as you taught yourself to be. It's not like he was particularly popular back in the day, he was just known for being a "bad boy," getting into trouble, acting like a fool.

As a sixteen year old girl, those things obviously attracted you to him. Soon enough though, Stokeley came out of jail with a brand new friend, Jahseh. You heard through the grape vine that the two were making music together, and then all of a sudden you never saw your first love again.

When you saw him blow up on the internet under the stage name 'Ski Mask the Slump God' and got a bunch of different face tattoos, you still supported him and found him attractive. You'd discreetly like his posts and like all of his SoundCloud tracks, lowkey, so he wouldn't notice it was you.

Stokeley went to California, while you stayed behind in Florida—making money the quickest way you knew how to save up for law school.

That is what leads to this night in particular.

You recognized him immediately. How could you not?

He came strolling in casually, surrounded by friends who all looked somehow familiar but not familiar enough to put a name to any of their faces. That didn't matter though.

It wasn't out of the ordinary to see celebrities in the club you worked at. It was possibly the nicest one in the state in the most popular area.

The song was coming to an end and you had a thin layer of sweat covering your skin. Stokeley was about five feet from the stage, staring up at you now, still surrounded by his entourage. You made quick eye contact with him, and froze.

Your breath hitched in your throat and you eased yourself down and off of the pole—turning your back to your precious lover because of the high levels of anxiety you were feeling.

Did he recognize you?

Disregarding your thoughts, you made your way back to your dressing room to freshen yourself up for the rest of the night.

"Sapphire," Your boss called, getting your attention—using your alias.

"Yeah?" You turned your head, pausing the lipstick application. The comfortable dressing room that you only had to share with two other girls was clean and comfortable.

"So.. There's this guy out there requesting a private dance from you. Are you up for it?" Your boss, Kyle, was never like one of those douchebags that like to take advantage of their dancers. He always paid you on time and always double checked to make sure you were okay with things, private dances especially.

Considering this was a respectable establishment, there was absolutely no sex allowed, and if you wanted to have sex with anyone, it would have to be outside of the club. Majority of the time the rooms were under surveillance anyways.

Private dances typically cost a lot more than just simple dances on stage or anywhere else in the club for that matter.

In this situation, you'd be giving a lap dance to some guy for an hour and just pray he didn't get handsy with you or completely disregard the rules of the club.