Highly conceptual, experimenting with ideas. I might continue this in other parts, depending on what kind of feedback I get! It's sloppy so watch out, this helps me warm up for bigger writing. Hope you enjoy my shameless obsession with these too. ~Tea

She did it for the money, and he, well, because he enjoyed being a sick fuck sometimes.

Maka Albarn was a straight A student at DWMA and constantly had her nose crammed in a dusty book; not the type of girl you'd find at a seedy strip club, and even more so not the one who was grinding up and down a pole. Nevertheless, she knew very well how to run the ropes at a place like this, but more importantly, bring in the bills.

Naturally, she wasn't a fan of the wide variety of creeps that sauntered through the door, but at the end of the night when she had a wad of cash in her hand she could convince herself that it was just barely worth it. So she slipped on her bundle of black laces and straps (supposedly her clothes) and put on her mask and heels before heading for her pole.

He entered the club and immediately accompanied himself with a strong glass. The club was warm and smelled of perfume and beer. He scanned the room with his burning crimson eyes and spotted a stage just about to begin. He took a large swig of his drink and headed over to the booth area. Sure, all types of creeps and bastards collected in a place like this. Guess that just made him one of them. Soul gulped back more of his drink with a grunt. He watched as a masked blonde walked around her pole, waiting for more to sit before her. It must've been a slow night, because a few moments later the music started and she was off the ground.

As soon as the music began, her conscious flicked off and she swirled up on the pole with haunting grace. She whirled around it in circles, gradually moving up and making her way back down, slowly grinding along it. She arched her back and flipped back on the stage, kneeling at the edge of it. She spread her legs before her sole audience member and leaned forward to flick his glass with her nail, making it ring. His crimson eyes were fixated on her and she immediately climbed back on the pole to shake the shiver that traveled throughout her body.

Soul watched as she swayed her hips tauntingly at him. The ringing of his glass was still in his head, and the bulge between his legs poked at his jeans persistanyl as his eyes trailed along the curve of her ass. He was entranced by her, intoxicated by her lethal moves. The way she bent around the pole so flexibly had Soul's complete attention. Her golden hair tumbled around her shoulders and sprayed out each time she quickly swirled around the pole. Before he knew it, the music came to a stop and she leaned down in a bow. Soul flipped open his wallet and handed her all of his cash. She glanced up hesitantly before bending forward and grabbing it. She brushed her fingers on the underside of his wrist, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She got back up and turned away, walking off the stage until darkness swallowed her figure.

Soul watched her go, the light from above the stage dimmed into darkness. His breath was short and despite the obvious hard on and buzz from his drink, he couldn't shake off the ache in his chest that begged to see her again.

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Way to go Soul you have the hots for an exotic dancer. Ehehehehehe trololol, soo what did you guys think? I love feedback!