I'm in Love with a Stripper (a One Direction Fanfiction)

After the tragic loss of her parents, Leila Karim abandons her life in Bradford and sets her sights on London. Working as a stripper at Victory Strip Club under the stage name Bambi, ex-best friend and pop superstar Zayn Malik is the last person Leila expected to be sitting in the audience watching her undress. Will Leila find herself falling for Zayn all over again or will cheeky Harry Styles win her heart instead?


2. Skin

I’m In Love With a Stripper:


Zayn’s P.O.V:


“Fuck!” I roared, punching the wall swiftly, regretting it as soon as my fist started to throb. I examined it, making sure it wouldn’t bleed. I didn’t want to have to explain it to the boys, and most especially to management. The paparazzi speculated about every single thing we did, so I had to be extremely careful not to give them anything they could exploit.


I made my way down the deserted hallway, shaking my head as I went. I was still in disbelief at the whole situation. Leila of all people –a stripper! She would never be the type to do that. I thought back to the girl from Bradford who I’d been best friends with, who had never kissed a boy. What had happened to make her end up here? I was determined to find out. But most of all, I was determined to…fix things with her; to set things right. I owed that much to her after how poorly I had handled the situation that eventually lead to the end of our friendship. For a long time, I regretted what had happened between us. But then suddenly, all of it started to fade away; my life in Bradford, my old mates from school, and even Leila managed to as well as soon as my career blew up with One Direction.


I approached the back of the stage cautiously, the music blaring loudly. Peeking out from the side of the curtains I could see another stripper moving fluidly on stage. I thought back to Leila’s performance. It almost seemed like a dream. The lights flickered on and there sat a beautiful girl with her face hidden behind a mask. Suddenly, she was in front of the five of us. While my eyes were locked on her, her eyes were locked on Harry. As she removed the mask from her face and handed it off to Harry, I thought I was hallucinating. All the stress from our tours and album release in America had left me mad and seeing ghosts from my past. I rubbed my eyes and blinked but there she stood in front of me still, completely unaware of my presence. I had to admit that she looked good, so different from three years ago. The years had treated her well; she had lost her baby fat and filled out in all the right places. And if seeing her after so long wasn’t enough of a shock, she had to go and take her top off. I attempted to push the memory from my mind, sighing in frustration. If her parents ever got wind of this they would have my head.


I headed back to where the boys were sitting. I slid into my seat silently, sipping on the beer I had left behind while pursuing Leila. Everyone was chatting to each other except for Harry who was missing from his seat.


“Where’d you run off to?” Niall reached over and poked me.


“Took a piss.” I replied ambiguously, falling silent.


Another stripper came onto stage. She was blonde, older than Leila and wearing a pink boa around her neck. As the music started, she slowly unraveled the boa from around her neck, revealing her enormous chest.


“Peaches?” Yelped Louis. “Her stripper name should be tyrannosaurus-tits!” Liam and Niall guffawed at this drunkenly.


I stared at the blonde bored. Nothing could shake the images of Leila, or ‘Bambi’ as the announcer had revealed her pseudonym to be out of my head. She moved so confidently and so accordingly, teasing the audience but revealing just enough of herself to make them want more. Leila had always been pretty in her own tomboyish manner when I had known her. We met in primary school and became inseparable almost instantaneously. We would play outside in the woods for hours, and afterwards we would go back to her place and play with our game boys and occasionally trade Pokemon cards if one of us had a card the other wanted. Even as we aged we always managed to have something in common. We would joke and have long conversations about just about everything, but what we bonded over the most was music. Oftentimes, Leila would play on the piano as I sang. She was the only one I sang to, the first person who I revealed my passion for music to. I felt a pang as I realized how well and truly I had fucked up. I had kept telling myself that stopping talking with Leila was for the best, for her benefit, that I might have been the guy for her, but she wasn’t the girl for me.


A thought flitted through my mind then, leaving me horrified.


What if she always had been the girl for you, Zayn?


I was drawn from my thoughts at the sound of Liam’s voice.


“Where did Harry go anyways?” He asked, pointing to Harry’s vacant seat.


“He said something about getting a private dance with one of the girls.” Louis said distractedly, his eyes not leaving tyrannosaurus-tits.


I clenched my jaw tightly. I had a feeling I knew which girl Harry went to go get a dance from.




Leila’s P.O.V:


I began to change for my next performance with ten minutes to spare. I had wasted far too much time blubbering over Zayn, it wasn’t professional. I slipped into my white lace bustier and panty set with matching white thigh high tights and silk garters to hold them up. The colour white screamed innocence, although innocent was the exact opposite of what a stripper technically was. And white was especially appropriate for the theme of my dace, a mock wedding. I added the final touches to my outfit. I clipped a veil into my hair, draping it over my face. Slipping into my white stilettos, I grabbed the last item I needed, a bouquet of fake flowers. Small things like this drive men crazy, little things that brought their fantasies to life. I reapplied my lipstick and deodorant, spraying a cloud of D&G L’Imperatrice around me. I was ready at last.  

Satisfied with my appearance I began to head for the door, however I halted in my tracks when I saw the doorknob turning. Zayn had come back when I told him not to, the bastard. In a flash, I ripped my stiletto off my foot, preparing to throw it at him when he entered. The door swung open, and I threw it with all the strength I could muster. Unfortunately, standing at the mouth of the door was not Zayn, but my manager Tommy. Tommy had a huge grin on his face, but it quickly fell once he saw what was hurtling towards him. Tommy dodged the flying shoe, the sound of it hitting the wall behind him echoing through the hallway.


“Have you gone mad?” Tommy squealed, “Throwing your beautiful shoe at an unsuspecting visitor!”


Typical Tommy, worried more about the shoe than his own well being. The whole thing was so hilarious I almost laughed.


“I’m sorry Tommy; I thought you were someone else.” I explained, still stifling my laughter.


“That boy who visited you really must have pissed you off if you planned on throwing this at him!” Tommy said, narrowing his eyes. “Either way, you can’t go throwing your outfits around, remember they’re the property of Victory!”


“It won’t happen again, Tommy.” I sighed, rubbing my temples. “I’m just under a bit of stress right now.” I shrugged.


“Well I have some good news. Your set has been cancelled.” Tommy stated.


“What? How do you reckon I’ll make my rent this month then?” I screeched! Good news my ass.


“You haven’t let me finish!” Tommy rolled his eyes dramatically. “You’ve been booked for a private dance. Someone from the audience liked you so much that they paid quite a bit for you.”


“Well…good.” I nodded curtly. “Must I change again?”


Tommy gave me a once over. His flair for fashion hadn’t failed us yet.


“No, keep it on.” He winked.


Five minutes later, I walked over to the booths reserved for private dances. I was always noticeably more nervous for the private dances because they were so much more intimate and personal. I wasn’t being watched by many eyes, but just one pair. Although nerve wracking, it was thrilling at the same time. I pulled the curtain of the private booth back and entered it, my heels echoing as I walked. The room was in relative darkness, although I could make out the figure of someone perched in a chair on the far side of the room. I climbed onto the low platform with an accompanying pole where all private dances began. After that was when we made our way over to the customer. Suddenly, two spotlights flashed on, one shining over me, and the other shining on my high paying customer. The first thing I noticed was my red mask, held strategically in front of his face. He quickly pulled it to the side, revealing his lush brown curls and devious green eyes that I had been so focused on before.


“Miss me?” The boy who I finally recognized to be Harry Styles said with a small smile.


Harry was clad in a pair of blue jeans and a simple black t-shirt that read ‘I’D FCUK ME’.


“I can’t tell if your hair is curlier in real life or in all the photographs of you in the magazines.” I said with a smirk.


He grinned widely at my comment and then said. “Why don’t you come and find out?”


As if on cue, Rihanna’s ‘Skin’ began to ooze through the speakers located on the ceiling.


I began by sultrily walking around my pole, and then bent over, pulling my hands up my thighs as I came up.


The mood is set, uh-hu-a

So you already know what's next uh-hu-a

TV on blast,

Turn it down,

Turn it down.

Don't want it to clash,

With my body screaming now.

I know you hearin' it,

You got me moaning now.


I slid down the pole, my legs spread around it. Coming back to a standing position, I then sauntered over to Harry, accentuating the movement of my hips as I went.


No teasin’,
You’ve waited long enough.
Go deep,
I’mma throw it at ya,
Can't catch it.


I walked to behind Harry’s chair.


“So how old are you, Harry?” I inquired with a whisper.

Don't hold back,
You know I like it rough.


I ran my hands over his chest from behind, licking his ear as I bent over. The smell of his cologne was intoxicating.


“Eighteen.” He replied distractedly.


Know I'm feelin’ ya, huh.
Know you liking it, huh.


“Good, then I don’t feel so bad about all this.” I said.


I walked back to the front of the chair, Harry reached out his hands, I took them in mine, putting a leg over each of his and straddling him and bending over directly in front of his face. He ran his hands over my thighs delicately. Usually I hated it when the customers ran their grimy hands over me, but for some reason I didn’t mind this time. In fact, dare I say, enjoying it?


So baby don't stop what you're doing.

Softer than them others


Turning back around to face Harry, I planted myself in his lap, running my hands over his chest.


Boy I know you wanna touch.


I took his hands and placed them on my chest.


“You’re a lovely girl, you know that?” Harry licked his lips, raising his eyes from his hands to my face.


Breathing down my neck,

I can tell ya wanna fu –


I ran my fingers through his hair. It was extremely thick and curly just as he had insinuated it would be.


“And you’ve got lovely hair.” I replied quietly.


And now you want it like,

Want you to feel it now.


Moving my hips in a circle, he placed his hands behind my back to support me.


“And lovely eyes.” I added.


So why you standing over there with ya clothes on,

Baby strip down for me,

Go on take em’ off.


He grinned widely at this.


“And oh my, look at that smile.” I grinned back at him.


Harry delicately ran his fingers through my hair, our eyes locking. My heart began to beat faster. I sat stoically with my hands around his neck as the song played on.


No heels,

No shirt,

No skirt,

All I'm in is just skin.

You a beast, oh.

You know that I like that.

Come on baby,

All I wanna see you in is just skin.

All I wanna see you in is just skin.

All I wanna see you in is just skin.

Oh, oh, oh

Just skin.


And then he leaned in, placing a heated kiss on my welcoming lips. I took his face into my hands, deepening the kiss. What had come over me? The thought vanished from my mind as Harry pulled me closer to him. Suddenly, the sound of the curtains being pulled back reached my ears, causing us to pull away from each other. The light from the hallway shone into the room, illuminating the four boys standing at room’s opening. It was too late for us to move from our compromising positions, Harry’s hands on my behind and me still straddling him.


The first face I saw was Zayn’s, standing off to the side. My face grew hot and suddenly I was so ashamed of myself. Zayn was looking right at me, shaking with anger, his fists clenched tightly against his sides as he took in the sight of me perched on Harry. He flexed his jaw mercilessly and then whispered a hardly audible “fuck” before storming off. I could not help but feel a sense of panic growing in me at his reaction, but I forced it to go away. I owed nothing to Zayn. I quickly hopped off Harry and stood to the side of him.


“Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?” Harry snapped at his band mates, irritated.


“Sorry Haz, I’m not sure how but the paps got tipped off that we’re here. We can’t let them catch us leaving so we have to bolt now.” The blonde whose name I think was Niall explained.


Harry groaned deeply at this.


“Alright, give me a minute.” Harry said, shooing them away.


“What’s Zayn’s problem?” I heard the boy in the stripes ask as they headed down the hallway.


Harry stood, approaching me. “I’m so sorry but I have to go.” He said apologetically, a sweet expression on his face.


“It’s alright, I completely understand,” I said with a smile, opening my arms for a hug. “We wouldn’t want your fourteen year old fans hearing about your escapades in a strip club.” I joked. It was probably essential that they get out of here soon; they would certainly get in a lot of trouble being photographed leaving a strip club.


Harry laughed. “They’d never believed it,” He said with a wink, wrapping his arms around me. When he pulled back he said “So I wanted to ask you two things quickly before I go.”


“Shoot.” I smiled.


“Firstly, what is your real name?” Harry asked, his green eyes sparkling as he smiled. This was a first, someone who wanted to call me something other than ‘Bambi’.


“My real name is Leila.” I told him, a genuine smile on my face. I could definitely see what all the girls who fawned over this boy were talking about.


“Leila,” He reiterated it with a grin “That’s beautiful, it suits you.”


“Thank-you.” I blushed in spite of myself. This boy either knew exactly what to say, or really meant it.


“And secondly, I was wondering if I could get to know Leila,” He looked down at the floor before raising his eyes again, a faint blush had appeared on his cheeks “Not that Bambi isn’t cool because she really is.” He put an emphasis on the ‘really’ resulting in me letting out a giggle. Since when did I giggle?


“I think that’s a wonderful idea.” I agreed, still smiling.


 With this, Harry whipped out his Blackberry and had me type my number into it.


“Wicked,” he said when I handed it back to him. Leaning in, he gave me a sweet peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you later then, Leila.” He said, backing up towards the door. With a final grin he departed, breaking into a run. Being a pop star certainly seemed to be exciting, but then I decided that so was being a stripper.


A/N: Thank you for reading and please review!

Check out the accompanying tumblr for I'm in Love with a Stripper to check out music, outfits, sneak peeks, and fanart! iminlovewithastripperfanfiction.tumblr.com


Skin - Rihanna  

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