#i just thought to myself- what if they were cowboy strippers? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chiwhorei · 3 years

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𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭

cross-posted to Ao3!

pairing: issei “horse cock” matsukawa x fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+ mdni

word count: ~4.4k

tags: stripper!issei, stripper!seijoh, roommate!oikawa, tendoukawa (bc @heauxzenji said it an it’s now the only ship in my head) dry humping, lap dance, a little corruption, spitting, public, alcohol and recreational drug consumption (weed and coke), spanking, degradation, hardly edited

a/n: howdy! this is my contribution to the smut pile’s western collab and it is so incredibly late but what the hell else is new. the masterlist for the collab can be found here! @messwriting and myself, in true chaotic duo fashion, built an absolutely depraved multiverse of seijoh strippers: the lawbreakers. lee, i love you so much. this journey we’ve been on the past few months has been chaotic and beautiful, and there’s plenty more to come.

the multiverse: hanamaki || iwaizumi || kyoutani

hymn: save a horse (ride a cowboy) by big & rich

and all the girls say— save a horse, ride a cowboy

A fog of smoke burns in your eyes. The room around you feels like it could curl in on itself, four walls marked sparsely with dusty furniture, the smell of weed and cash.

You fix your gaze onto a long, diagonal tear in the leather couch across the must and g-strings, the rip in upholstery is stuffed with wrinkled one dollar bills.

It feels like observing an exhibit at a museum, or a zoo. Lines of coke, random dustings of pot and discarded swisher tobacco, too many open handles of liquor. Sitting on an end table is a bright pink teddy bear with a cowboy hat on it’s head.

How the fuck did you get here?

***

You shift your weight on either foot, arches aching already. The pair of jeans and top you had planned on wearing tonight were all but ripped off of your body, casual boots thrown down the hallway with sadistic glee and replaced with heels that are taller and a dress much too short.

“Damnit, you’re walking too fast.” Your appointed captor turns around dramatically, stopping in his tracks to watch you catch up. The cigarette pressed into his mouth cards in two fingers and extended towards you as a peace offering. You take the half gone stick and bring it to your lips.

Tendou’s mission was simple, drag his boyfriends roommate and best friend-- possibly kicking and screaming-- out for a night she won’t soon forget.

“Were those really necessary, Satori?” You point with the remnants of his cigarette and he feigns a kicked-puppy expression, looking down dramatically at his all black outfit contrasting drastically with a flashy pair of brownish-red cowboy boots.

“I am being a supportive partner. Plus Tooru and I wear the same shoe size.” His hair is bright outlined by the neon sign above the building.

You inhale smoke and nicotine, eying him over once again before continuing.

“Does it bother you when he’s dancing on all of those horny women?” The cigarette butt falls to the ground, you snuff it out while exhaling remnant smoke from your nose, the bachelorette party walking towards the door in a parade screaming emphasizes your question.

Tendou pulls you close, mouth pressing against your neck to bite against the skin. You jerk away from his embrace, with a feeble push against his chest to match the scoff scratching against your throat. The tall red head above you, currently leaned into the dip on your neck, always has an air of vulgar humor and zero personal space.

“Watching my pretty little boyfriend grinding on women that would never stand a chance with him,” he pulls away just in time to catch another eye roll before grabbing your wrist to pull you inside, “I think it’s hot as fuck.”

You stumble behind him, the doorman recognizing your friend immediately and lets the pair of you through tacky saloon doors. You catch a glimpse of the tattered sign standing right next to the entrance.

Lawbreaker’s Presents: The Guys of the Wild West

The club is drastically warmer than outside, the chill in your barely covered limbs thaws in a mixture of stage lights and body heat.

You sigh deeply as the sound of country music fills your ears, seemingly in rhythm with the squawking of drunken hens sipping on tall flutes of champagne. Thinking back briefly to when you first signed the lease with Oikawa, you remember he wore glasses and a sweater vest.

He said he worked as a “fitness instructor.”

“Ah, my two favorite people in the whole world,” Tooru’s ears just have been burning at your recollection, as your roommate appears in front of you in nothing but white spandex shorts and a pair of shiny boots to match, a tray of drinks is placed to the side on an unoccupied table. The white cowboy hat on his head gleamed in the low light of the club, rhinestone star shimmers-- you want to shy away from the bright refraction hitting your eyes.

He looks in his element, completely confident and cocksure as he walks around in only underwear and body oil.

“Aren’t you glad you came out tonight? I promise, you’re going to have a great time.” Oikawa melts into Tendou’s side, he looks just as content in the current atmosphere. Tendou seems at home in any ecosystem he wanders into.

“The show starts in 15, go get yourself a drink and try to pull the stick out of your ass. I’m going to, uhm, wish Tooru an extra special good luck.”

“I really didn’t need to know that, thanks. Tooru, break a leg.” You turn around at the sight of the wandering, tattooed hand on it’s journey south on Oikawa’s abdomen and retreat to the bar. You aren’t shocked by the display, not hardly, not with the two of them using almost every surface in your apartment as a debauched playground.

The space around you is emptier than you imagined it would be, but there is still time before the night actually starts. The bartender approaches just as you sit down on one of the wooden stools, every fixture around you is designed to look like an old saloon-- save for the strobing lights and dj booth.

You order something strong and amber, partially to stay in-theme, partially for the nerves settled in your stomach that draft beer wouldn’t be able to curb.

The woman smiles brightly and turns to pour your liquor, leaving you to pick at a cocktail napkin and await your friend’s return.

“You’re Shittykawa’s roommate.” A stranger's voice is deep and bellowing, sounding high above your ear. You swivel in your seat, gaze meeting a tanned chest instead of a set of eyes. Trailing upwards past thick black tattoos and an unavoidable pair of silver nipple rings.

You can feel the muscles in the back of your neck as they strain to meet his chocolate brown stare, he looks amused as you all but gawk at him.

“Yes, uh, I am. And you’re, uhm--” the train of thought you try to hang onto derailed completely by a devastating smile, “one of Tooru’s co-workers?”

If his smile wasn’t enough, his laugh could level the building around you. Your new friend taps the black Stetson against the bar top before putting it back on his head. He gestures broadly to his attire, or lack thereof, with another disarming and smooth chuckle.

“What gave that one away, darlin’?” You realize how stupid your question sounded, mentally kicking yourself but trying desperately not to show it on your face.

Long, thick legs are wrapped in a pair of leather chaps, the tight fabric hides nothing even if it covers most of his lower half. A matching vest hangs open on his chest, the muscles in his arms look bigger than your head. He seems huge in presence and physique, your own form is a shrinking violet below him.

“Your drink, dear. Double Jack n’ Coke.” The bartender slides a glass towards you, and you accept it with a gracious smile. The distraction is definitely appreciated, any excuse to break the eye contact that has you dissolving like lye.

“Jack n’ Coke, a gal after my own heart.” You choke, a coupling of small coughs break out of your chest. You curse your bodies reaction, you don’t even know--

“You’re name, uh, w-what’s your name.” Casual conversation seems like the best option, because it’s only been two minutes with the almost-naked Casanova and there’s a gnawing feeling that you don’t want him to walk away.

You blame it on the alcohol not yet even running through your veins.

“Call me anything you want, pretty girl, but my name’s Issei.”

A smile creeps from one end of your mouth to the other. His presence is jarring to say the least, but there’s something about the way his teeth peek out past curled lips that makes you want to lean in instead of away.

Tendou calls your name, effectively pulling you out of Issei’s orbit and reminding you where you are. Heat flushes in waves on your face as Tendou wraps his long arms around your shoulders from behind. Acknowledging your new friend with a pointed, “Howdy partner,” before turning to order his own drink.

“Something sweet please, and strong.” You hear his voice singing to the bartender but still face Issei, having his attention is more intoxicating than whiskey. You want him to talk to you, to ask you questions, to grace you with that smile over again.

You feel the ability to breathe escaping when Issei leans into you impossibly close, his hand enclosing around your back and pulling you in so slightly you could swear you imagined it.

“It was nice to meet you. Make sure I hear ya’ out there, darlin.”

You’re left almost falling from the bar stool, watching as Issei strides toward the back. The way his hips sway is unfair in every--

“Hey,” Tendou’s fingers come up to snap in front of your face, “Didya hear me? Let’s go take our seats.”

That’s right; you feel like you’ve just run a marathon, heart beating erratically at the briefest interaction, your night hasn’t even started yet.

You’re dragged directly towards the front of the stage and sat in a small two person table. You agreed to the night out between gritted teeth, hauled to the uber with absolute defiance; but most of your protest has fizzled away-- definitely not due to a pair of deep brown eyes and planes of perfectly tanned skin-- as you get comfortable next to the boisterous bridal party. You can hear their idle, drunken chatter at your back.

“I heard they call one of the dancers ‘Mad Dog’. Apparently he’s totally feral.”

“One of them is nicknamed the ‘Big Tease’, he really likes the pretty little brides~”

“Oh yeah? Well there’s one dancer called ‘Horse Cock’. I’m going to go home with him.”

The women behind you howl with laughter, enjoying their friend’s last night of freedom. The straw in your drink twirls idly, thoughts drifting with each turn of the plastic against your liquor. Surely, Issei had just intended a friendly introduction, he wouldn’t be raking in tips by being unapproachable.

Friendly, you decide, repeating it to yourself until the lights drop and a black curtain is pulled up, he was just being nice.

* * *

The show starts out mostly how you would expect. Through a few sets, toned, beautiful guys take their clothes off and fling articles at the screaming, panting crowd. The table next to you gets the most attention, bridal parties, you assume, would be the prized cash cow.

Oikawa comes out in the most obnoxious, white and teal outfit and strips into nothing but a thong and boots. Every inch of his skin sparkles, the cause becoming obvious when he jumps down to the audience and swivels his hips and ass right into your lap. Your hand comes up to his hip reflexively to brace yourself-- of course, body glitter.

You watch on at the sweaty writhing of the most beautiful men you have ever seen in real life. The atmosphere around you is absolutely contagious, it’s impossible not to fall into the rhythm, losing inhibitions with every stray piece of fabric as it’s tossed into the sea of women.

Just as you lean over to Tendou to admit that you’re enjoying yourself, the next song blasts loudly from the speakers. The beat vibrates your table, soaking into every nerve, but is almost drowned out completely by the shrieking from every patron around you. They must know what’s coming.

Looking back up front, you realize why the crowd is losing their minds. The man that commanded your attention at the bar is even more alluring now. His strut to center stage is deliberate, flashing smiles and winks to no one in particular and hypnotizing every person in his reach.

Issei is stunning in his element, soaking in the reaction with a humble tip of his hat. You could swear, though you’re sure that it’s just your imagination, that he’s looking right at you.

His performance starts out like the rest of them, but each movement of his tattooed hands as they travel over his chest is spellbinding.

Issei discards his leather vest and tosses it to the side, it feels like you’re watching him in slow motion. He’s gorgeous, skin tanned and tight over thick muscle, arms wrapped in black ink and shining with sweat.

His chaps are next, ripped from his legs just as music behind him picks up. The wedding party next to you so loud you swear the laundromat next door can hear.

All that’s left is a thong that’s barely covering his cock. You try desperately not to, but all your eyes can focus on is the bulge under a tiny piece of black leather. Your thighs rub together in search of any relief to the feeling growing hot and slick in your stomach.

He moves like liquid platinum, every long, deliberate swivel of his hips and overt palming over his crotch is enough to cause delirium. He soaks in every whistle and shriek of his name, vibrating on the high of squelching attention.

Issei is a natural. He’s a wild animal, and, along with every other woman there, you wish he would tear you apart with his canines.

He descends the short staircase with a quick stomp of his boots, now making rounds through the crowd. He stops in front of tables at random, invading the space between strangers and collecting wrinkled one dollar bills.

Why does something so blatantly performative feel voyeurous?

All you can do is gawk, ignoring how every time another woman’s hand runs down his abdomen you heat with envy. As he turns away from the bridal party neighboring you, your blood turns ice cold.

Issei has you, unmistakably, in his sights. His eyes pin you, holding you down tightly in your chair as he struts forward. Tendou whistles loudly as the brunette approaches your table. You wonder, in your last moment of cognizance, if Saroti and Tooru had planned your evening in more detail that you originally thought.

“Long time no see, darlin’,” Issei stands over you, and all you can do is stare dumbly up at him, “do ya trust me?”

You don’t answer, not with words, not like he would even hear your quiver over Big & Rich booming through the speakers. His question is stupid, to trust someone you just met so vaguely?

You do. Against any better judgement, you do.

He doesn't give you the chance to ask what he means, stuck in the gooey feeling of his attention. Issei reaches behind you, picking up your half empty glass. He swirls the drink with an almost evil smile before bringing it up to his lips and draining the last bits of whiskey and coke.

Your face reads confused, not putting his intentions together until you feel his thumb pressed against your chin. Issei’s eyebrow quirks, eyes trained on your reaction. You’re options are to shy away, turning back in your seat, running for escape in the bathroom, or--

The gloss on your mouth is sticky as your lips part in obedience. Issei tries to hide his elation, but it’s difficult to remain aloof as your tongue lulls out and your eyes beg him.

Issei’s hold on your chin tightens, nudging you to lean in so he’s only inches away. Your eyes shut lightly, the shouting surrounding you sounds little more than a whisper with the blood rushing in your ears.

You swear you can hear him groan above you as the sharp taste of liquor hits your tongue. Willing your body to cooperate, you swallow the drink with only a small cough.

His face dips down, it seems like a habit now, to brush his promises against the shell of your ear once again.

“You’re an agreeable little thing, I think you can take it.”

His hands are on either side of your chair in a flash, lifting you up with trained, bulging muscles. You fall forward in your seat, bracing against Issei’s chest. Every cell in your body is tight with tension, if you lift your head up to meet the audience’s eyes, you’re sure you’ll crack like glass.

He steals you from relative comfort, shifting your weight in his arms as he ascends back onto stage. You’ve gone limp in his hold, pliant to his will. The unfamiliar presence at a dusty bar top has turned into more than a front row seat to depravity.

You’re thrown off balance as he sets you down, eyes adjusting to the white hot stage lights. You’re exposed to every set of eyes in the building, even if you can’t see him-- you know Satori is smiling from one sharp cheek to the other. Wherever Tooru is, he’s most likely sitting in the same satisfaction.

Aren’t you glad you came out tonight? I promise, you’re going to have a great time.

Issei rounds the back of your chair so his actions are hidden from your view. The brim of a leather cowboy hat breaches your field of vision, much too big for your head.

His hands come down onto your shoulders, snaking down your bare arms. His touch leaves a scorching fleet of chills. Issei runs his finger tips upwards, tracing against your collarbone before wrapping his grip lightly around your neck.

He can feel it, he has to, the racing pulse right under the surface of your skin.

The music transitions effortlessly, going almost unnoticed. The next song, still sharp with a cheesy country twang, is slower, deeper.

Issei’s thumb brushes against your cheek, your body wants to relax into the touch before it remembers how public the gesture is.

You hold in a shaky breath as he comes to stand in your eyeline again, you might as well be bound to your chair with rope. He looks larger than life-- in both stature and presence-- in front of you. His skin is glistening, refracting from the harsh lights with sweat and oil.

He is an unstoppable force against your will. Your desire to hide from the blinding attention is nothing compared to the desire to please. To please a stranger, to please the man you met only an hour ago.

To please Issei.

He flashes you another wink, taking a moment to rake his stair down your body. He memorizes the outline of your cute little dress, red is definitely your color.

Issei slides across the smooth surface of the stage to meet where you’re perched. The barreling, almost naked body now impossibly close to where your knees are pressed together.

He starts at your ankles, tracing the soft skin of your legs until his palms press flatly against your lower thigh. Issei savors the moment for a beat longer before prying your legs apart.

The crowd below you is loud and hollow in your ears, the shame bubbling up against your cheeks and nose is nothing compared to the pressure between your legs.

Issei’s hands wander up and under the hem of your skirt, scratching his nails on the vulnerable skin before they find his prize in the form of thin lace.

The “Wait” and “Stop” sitting on your lips shrivels up and dies as your panties are ripped off. You see the bright color, the last remnants of opposition twirling around his pointer and middle finger.

The crowd goes wild, watching as your body is made a fantasy that they can all live vicariously by. all you can do is watch as the fabric is stuffed into the side of his thong to accompany fistfuls of singles.

* * *

You’re still in shock by the final dance, still under a trance as Tendou pulls you towards the back. Stumbling behind him to catch up, you’re given no time to think about what you’re about to walk into.

A fog of smoke burns in your eyes. The room around you feels like it could curl in on itself, four walls marked sparsely with dusty furniture, the smell of weed and cash.

You fix your gaze onto a long, diagonal tear in the leather couch across the must and g-strings, the rip in upholstery is stuffed with wrinkled one dollar bills.

“I didn’t go too far did I?” Snapping back into reality, you hear Issei call to you. You’re vaguely comforted by a familiar voice before remembering the man attached had spat whiskey into your mouth and stolen your panties just 30 minutes prior. You heat up at the tips of your ears at the recollection of two things you had let him do, that you had wanted him to do.

Your eyes find Issei sitting on the couch on the opposite end of your freshly showered roommate, seemingly unbothered as Tendou flops down against the middle cushion and drapes both arms across the back.

“Don’t worry partner, our girl doesn’t startle easy.” Oikawa laughs, adjusting to sit across his boyfriend’s lap. Issei’s all leather outfit is replaced with a pair of grey sweats. He looks relaxed, effortlessly handsome.

What was it like, you wonder, before you knew how it felt to look at him? Life past the single night feels grey around the edges.

When was the last time you felt this alive?

He takes a sip of a water bottle, wiping off his chin with the large rose tattooed on his hand. You can’t stop staring at them-- the ones that roamed your body in front of a club full of drunk bachelorettes, the ones that traced your skin like he already had the map.

And now you watch those same hands, so new but so inviting, as two fingers curl inward. They pull you as if tightening a rope around your waist. You wade past tall sweaty men and freshly caught audience members as they tangle across dusty furniture.

You scoot by your best friends from where they sit next to Issei, ignoring the slap to your ass and the following laugh from Oikawa in between loud, sloshing kisses.

“Well, little one,” He pats his thigh, inviting you to the spot on his lap rather than the empty seat next to him, “you’re not gonna run away are ya?”

Every nerve in your body is twitching, you’re not sure if you could run if you wanted to.

You don’t.

Issei takes in your small nod of confirmation, pulling you into his hold. The position is awkward at first, perching on his knee as you try to keep your balance. He laughs, his arm snaking around your back so you relax into him. You fidget with your fingers as they lie against your lap, watching the bustling around you. A cloud of smoke settles in the air, you wonder if it’s a permanent haze of tobacco and pot-- the scent is probably painted into the walls.

“Is this what you expected?” Issei’s voice is low and close to your ear, you can feel the smile curled into his question. Your eyes are fixed forward, watching as Tendou pours a small white line into Oikawa’s collarbone and dives in nose first.

“Honestly,” you adjust, kicking your legs up over his other knee, “I’m pretty used to this kind of stuff.”

Even if your usual scene doesn't include a drug filled almost-orgy, you can’t say you’re fazed much. Not with the company you keep.

Even with the circus revolving around you, Issei is the only thing you can see. Everything else falls away but the smell of his body wash and the soft material of his sweats where they meet your naked legs.

His hand rests against your thigh, fingers just above then short hem of your party dress. The metal rings on each digit are cool against your burning skin. You’re sure Issei can feel the heat rising in your stomach as it spreads through your blood.

You feel him lean back, fishing something out of his pocket to set in your hands. You feel every hair stand on edge as the thin cotton drops into your grip, heavy as an anchor.

“You know what I think, darlin’?” Your breath hitches, the room around you squeezing tight against your shoulders, “I think you’re a natural on stage. I bet you would have let me do anything up there.”

A hand wanders down the path of your spine, rough fingerprints stroke past each vertebrae. You arch at the feeling, his skin is like a narcotic. The liquor still swimming in your mind is no match to this, to the heady smell of sex and sweat as it cuts through your senses.

Issei’s right, you’ll let him do anything to you. You’ll beg for it like you’re trying to pass the gates of heaven.

Your body moves of its own volition, legs swinging to straddle his waist. The material of your dress bunches over the curve of your ass, completely exposed to the room around you before being eclipsed by steady palms.

You would be, should be, embarrassed by the display of public depravity. No one around seems to notice, half naked is still more modest than most everyone else. Tendou and Oikawa have dissolved into a pile of spit and clashing teeth next to you, saving you from any snide quips. There’s nothing but Issei, face an inch away from you and lips tempting you to lean forward.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I don’t usually do this?”

Glassy eyes flick dumbly at the man below you. He sees the wobble of your lip, the glaze in your stare as you memorize every feature on his face. Any reassurance sitting on his tongue dies when you crash your lips against his, hips rolling down into him and knocking him off guard.

Your kiss is searing and drips with finality. You’ve decided what bed you’ll wake up in the morning with your tongue tracing against his molars.

“No, not really.” Foreheads pressed together, it’s your turn to laugh. If you’re honest, you probably made this decision while still sitting at the bar.

You dip back in, emboldened with the bruising fingers digging against the fat of your hips. The feeling of your cunt pressed against his crotch could bring a man to his knees.

He’s not opposed, he’s just gotta get you home first.

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

#issei matsukawa x reader #issei matsukawa smut #mattsun smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #the smut pile collab #the smut pile western collab #the lawbreakers: multiverse #tw: drugs #tw: voyeurism #sin.drugs #sin.voyeurism

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noladyme · 3 years

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My Only Sunshine - Chapter 4

Liv is as human as they come – faults and all. After a dark experience in her past, she is determined to live life on her own terms, and never let anyone claim her as theirs again. This becomes an issue, when she meets a 1000-yearold vampire, who is dead-set on claiming her as his own.

CHAPTER 3

I had the driver take me to Reunion Tower; not wanting to go back to the hotel just yet. Clutching the package in my arms, I stood for a long time, looking at the panoramic view of Dallas. It was beautiful, but I couldn’t appreciate it; being too rattled from my encounter with Thomas. He didn’t remember me, and yet he’d sent me the picture of myself dancing; and the one of me and Sam talking. Or had he? I was confused, and afraid.

After I watched the sun set over the city, my phone rang; and I picked up the call. “Hi. You’re late”, I heard Pam’s bored voice. “Oh… right. I’m sorry”, I said. “Fråga henne var I helvete hon är!”, Eric thundered in the background. “I’m supposed to ask where in the hell you are…”, Pam said. “I’m on my way back”, I said. “I’ll be there in a few. I have the package”. “Är hon I säkerhet?”, Eric said. “You could ask her yourself…”, Pam said. Someone threw something made of glass. “You should probably hurry up… Before we have to pay for this place to be renovated”, Pam said. “I’m on my way”, I said, and hung up.

I told the driver to hurry back to the hotel, and almost ran into the suite. A maid was sweeping up some broken glass from the floor, and a recliner was almost torn in half. Pam was reading yet another magazine on the couch. I had been right about Erics comfort about his own nakedness, as he stormed into the living room – lips drawn back in a snarl – without even closing his robe before Pam or anyone else might see him. It was only when the maids jaw dropped, that he finally decided to cover himself up. He was holding the torn-up dress I’d been wearing the night before, and threw it on the coffee table. “Goddammit, Eric. That was couture!”, Pam said. “Please tell me the boots are ok”. “Get out”, Eric said to the maid. “Sir, I just need to…”. “I said, get the fuck out!”, he growled. The woman almost ran out of the room. “Great, now I have to go out for breakfast”, Pam said.

Eric walked up close to me; staring me down. “Where the fuck have you been?”, he said. I moved around him, and put the package on the table. “I went to see that photographer, like you asked me to”, I said quietly. A V-amped psychopath, who would have probably hurt me, if he hadn’t been glamoured to forget me. “You should have been back hours ago!”. I clenched my jaw, trying to keep from screaming at him. “What the fuck do you care? You only just rose”. Pam raised a brow at me; and I almost offered her some popcorn with her show.

Cherishing my life more than that, I instead headed towards my room. Eric stormed after me; and took a firm hold of my arm. I instantly froze in place. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry”, I breathed, not daring to meet Eric’s eyes. He let go, and seconds later, I found myself seated on the edge of the bed, with the vampire kneeling in front of me. “What happened?”, he asked. “Nothing… Nothing happened”, I said. I wasn’t lying – nothing had happened. Thomas hadn’t touched me; not in the way I’d feared he would if he ever saw me again. “Pam, go get ready. Take the gift, and make it more presentable”, Eric said almost inaudibly. I heard the door to the suite close behind Pam as she left.

I was shaking in front of Eric, and he brushed his knuckles down my cheek. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me”, he said. “I would never hurt you”. “I know…”, I whispered. “Do you?”, he asked. I didn’t reply. “Liv; look at me”. I raised my eyes, and met his. They were gentle, even warm. “I do… It’s just this place… those vampires last night”. This time, I was lying; a little. Eric raised his brows at me. “That’s why I don’t want you alone after sunset”, he said. “I can’t protect you when I don’t know where you are”. “I know”, I nodded, and looked down again. “And I should have been back before sunset. It’s what you’re paying me for”.

He put a finger under my chin, and made me look up at him. “Did you think I was angry because of the job?”, he asked. “I don’t know, what I think… Why didn’t you just get someone else to come to Dallas with you?”. My voice was sharp; surprising even myself. “Don’t give me some story about meetings and stuff; I don’t even know what kind of information I’m supposed to pass on to you”. “You know why”, Eric said. “So… we could have sex; and you could get over your thing for me…”, I almost whispered. He frowned at me. “When I realized you were gone, after I rose…”. He clenched his jaw. “Yeah, I saw that chair in there”, I muttered. “I don’t do that… I don’t lose control”, Eric said. “But I did, because of you".

I put a tentative hand on his shoulder. Eric leaned closer to me, and kissed me. I put my arms around his neck, and he pulled me of the bed; onto his lap, so I was straddling him. I whimpered softly, when he suckled at my lover lip, and slid his hand down to my butt; squeezing it. “If we had enough time, I would fuck you on the floor right now”, Eric said against my lips. His robe had opened; and looking down, his erection was telling me that he was being truthful. “Later?”, I asked hopefully. “Greedy…”, Eric chuckled. I blushed, and turned my face away. “No, I like it”, he assured me; and kissed my neck near the fang-marks form the night before.

I pulled back slightly. “Eric… Could you make them go away?”, I asked. He set me back on the bed, and got up to stand; removing his robe, and throwing it into a corner, before walking back towards his own room. “Yes, but I won’t”, he said. “It’s better that you have the marks tonight. There will be even more vampires we must convince of you being mine…”. He turned around facing me in all his glory. “Unless, you changed your mind…”, he said, raising a brow at me. “I didn’t”, I assured him. He grunted, and rolled his eyes; before continuing into his room. “The red dress”, he said, as he walked away. “Oh, and we’re going to talk about whatever it is Sugar and Spice means. You didn’t think I’d forget, did you?”.

“Fuck…”, I muttered to myself.

---

“You were a stripper?”, Pam said. “I knew you had at least one redeeming quality”.

We were seated in a sedan again; on our way to Godrics house, where the opening ceremony of the conference would be held. Eric had more or less been glued to my side, after I stepped out of the bathroom wearing the dress, he’d chosen for me. My chest was pushed up by the tight fabric, and he’d looked hungry in more than one way, when he saw me. Now, his face was pointed forwards as I sat next to him in the limo. I didn’t know if he was pissed or didn’t care, now that I had told him and Pam about my former job. His face gave nothing away.

“I didn’t strip…”, I said. “Wasn’t really a reason to; I was already wearing so little”. “So, you just danced in your underwear?”, Pam asked. “Yeah… Was good at it, too”. I wasn’t going to make some stupid Viking make me feel bad about a job I had enjoyed. At least up until the part where I had to drop everything, and run away. “How are you with a pole?”, Pan said. “Enough”, Eric said. “We’re here”.

The limo stopped in front of a beautiful modern house, and Eric stepped out first; giving both Pam and I a hand to exit the car. I was once again in a pair of ridiculously high heels, and finding it difficult to walk behind my vampire companions; but knew that we were in business mode, and I needed to know my place as a lowly human. I wasn’t supposed to complain; I should be honored to even be there. I was carrying a cloth wrapped package – the item I’d picked up from Thomas’ studio. Taking the lead of our little parade, Eric nodded at the vampire guarding the door; and we entered the large room – without me falling over in the process.

Stan seemed to hold court in a corner, surrounded by vampires and a few humans. His meal from the night before had been lent out to another vamp, who was snacking from her wrist on a large white sofa. Isabel was nearby, looking in Stan's direction, while conversing with Carl – a worried expression on her face.

Eric stopped at the end of a line, going up to a large double door. I went to stand behind him and Pam, but he reached back to grab my arm, and tug me forward; so that I stood next to him. “Do you remember the rules?”, he asked. “Don’t speak unless spoken to. Keep my head down. Don’t attract attention”, I muttered. “You’re going to have trouble with that last part”, he said. “You look delicious in that dress”. He looked down at me. “I’ll take the blame for that”, he said, smiling slightly. So, he wasn’t pissed.

After waiting for what seemed like forever – especially in uncomfortable shoes – it was our turn to face our host. The double doors opened, and we stepped into an office. Godric was seated in a recliner, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Eric kneeled in front of his maker; but as Pam didn’t follow, I thought I didn’t need to either. I was only furniture, after all.

“It is good to see you again”, Godric said; and put his hand on Erics head. “As is custom, I have brought you a gift”, Eric said, and got up to stand. I looked at the large desk, and saw a spread of items – ranging from jewelry, to an ancient looking sword, to what looked like a solid gold cowboy boot. Eric turned to look at me, letting me know to hand over the package.

I stepped forward, and handed Godric the bundle, making sure to keep my eyes down. Godric placed his cool hand on top of mine, and I raised my eyes to see that his were trailing my neck. He looked at me, and smiled almost sadly. “Thank you”, he said. “Eric. You’ve tasted”. “I have”, Eric said. “She is… like nothing I have tasted before”. “I’m not a fucking juice-box. Stop talking about me like that!”, I hissed.

Pam’s jaw dropped, and Eric looked impossibly paler than before. “Liv…!”, Eric said below his breath. “Stay quiet”. Godric smiled broadly. “You’re the first human who’s dared to speak out loud in my presence tonight”, he said. “That is the best gift so far”. Eric looked down at the floor; and Godric got an expression, like a parent in front of a disappointed child. “But, I am sure I will be glad for this as well”, he said, and began unwrapping the velvet cloth from around the gift.

Inside was a black wooden frame, surrounding a photograph, of three figures. I looked over it quickly, recognizing two of the people photographed. Eric and Godric. The third was a woman.

“1839, Cormeilles-en-Parisis”, Eric said. “The last time…”. “The last time we were all together”, Godric said. “Louis Daguerre captured the moment, before Nora glamoured him to forget”. Eric smiled softly. “She had to. We almost drained his assistant”. “He lived”, Godric said. He looked up at Eric. “It is a good memory, Eric. Thank you”. Eric nodded with what verged on a warm smile.

The door opened, and Isabel stepped inside. “Godric, 13 is waiting”, she said. “And we all know what happens when Rose is kept waiting too long”, Godric almost sighed. “Eric, I will have need for your human at the ceremony". Eric frowned for a moment. “Yes, Godric”.

We left the room quickly, and once again I kept behind Eric and Pam. We went outside into the yard, where a platform had been raised on the middle of the lawn. Strange music – like classical techno – came from some speakers, and vampires were mingling, having quiet conversations. “What was that about?", I asked. Eric gave me a look out the corner of his eyes. “I’m not sure", he muttered; seemingly very unhappy about that fact. I wasn’t just unhappy. I was afraid. I didn’t know what Godric wanted from me, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. “He has need for me? What am I supposed to do?”. “I don’t know!”, he thundered. “But you will be fine… I’m sure of it”. I wasn’t.

All the attending sheriffs and their companions gathered on the lawn; and as my heels were sinking into the ground below me, Eric put an arm around my waist to keep me standing. “Maybe you should have gone barefoot”, he said quietly. “Dick”, I muttered. “Later”, Eric promised, making tingles run down my spine.

“Welcome vampire-sheriffs of the Americas”, Isabel said, having gotten on the platform accompanied by Stan and Godric. I guessed Isabel was some sort of deputy-sheriff; I didn’t know too much about vampire politics. “Before we start the ceremony, let me go over a few of the agreed upon statutes for our convention”. The strict-looking female vampire raised her hand, but Isabel halted her. “Rose, your objections have already been noted; and the suggested changes from Area 13 will be voted on at the appropriate time”. “She wasn’t at the party last night”, I whispered. “Because she’s a boring cunt”, Pam said. “Now shut up”.

Isabel continued. “Feeding on willing humans will be allowed, outside meetings. Sheriff Godric encourages you all to keep it in private – or at least away from humans not attending the conference. Only TruBlood will be served during meetings, for those who cannot wait until after… Claimed humans are off limits, unless their masters allow it, and the human consents…”. Eric gazed towards me, and shook his head slightly. I was off limits to anyone but him. “There will be no deaths at this convention, be they human or true deaths for vampires… Any agreements made between districts will be shared at the end of the convention”. “Fat chance”, Pam scoffed, while Eric simply raised a disbelieving brow. “These are the main points of our agreed upon statutes. The rest are in your welcome packages”, Isabel finished. “Godric will now lead the opening ceremony”.

Godric stepped forwards with a solemn expression. “Brothers and sisters – and humans”, he said. Some of the vampires sneered at his addition. “We are convened to share and learn from each other. Under our kings and queens – and under the Authority – we are to lead and guide the vampires in our areas, keeping peace and assuring prosperity; especially in our relation to the human world”. Another murmur went through the crowd. “As this is election year, this is a good a time as any for new beginnings”. “What the fuck is he doing, Eric?”, Pam whispered. “Is he trying to get killed?”. “Not now”, Eric said. “Custom is that we open the conference, by the host toasting in blood from a chosen human; who kneels at the sheriff’s feet… Eric?”.

Eric tensed up next to me. “Godric, no…”, he said almost inaudibly. “För fram din människa”, Godric said, and looked at me. I swallowed hard. “What’s happening?”, I croaked. Eric looked at me defeatedly. “Godric has chosen you to feed from”, he said. My eyes widened in fear. “He can’t do that, I’m supposed to be yours!”, I said. “I must do as he asks…”, Eric said; and with a firm grip around my arm, he led me forwards. “You’ll be fine”. “I don’t want to!”, I said. “What the hell happened to consent?”. “Do us both a favor, and shut the fuck up”, Eric said. “Just trust him”.

Eric lifted me onto the platform, as if I weighed no more than a small child; and I was now stood in front of the ancient sheriff of Area 9. Eric stepped over to stand next to Isabel and Stan. Godrics eyes were warm, and he gave me a slight smile, before turning to the crowd again. “I’ve decided to forego custom”, he said. “Peace between vampires and mankind should not be discussed, after a ceremony based on degradation of humans. We were once all humans; though some of us may have forgotten that”. I heard Stan curse below his breath, and gazing across the crowd I saw a wide range of expressions on the present vampires faces. Some where smiling, respectful even; while others – too many for my liking – looked angry, and even afraid. Godric looked at me again. “Human, I stand before you in appreciation of your life, your mortality and your bravery for being here; among us who have preyed on you for millennia. As a representative for humankind, I ask for your forgiveness for the blood I and my kind have taken from you without having been given leave to do so. I cannot ask forgiveness for the lives that have been lost; for that there can be no clemency…”. An audible gasp went through the crowd, as Godric kneeled in front of me. “I am sorry”.

“What the fuck is this, Godric?”, Stan growled. “This is not what we agreed on”. Godric ignored him. “Will you stand with me, as I proclaim this conference open – not as a lower being; but as an ally?”, he asked me. I gazed towards Eric, who had an unreadable expression on his face. He wasn’t going to tell me what to answer, as I was about to represent all humankind to these vampires “I… will”, I said, my voice shaking. Godric smiled warmly, and got on his feet; taking my hand, and raising it in the air. “I now declare this conference in session”.

The music was turned up, covering the sounds of the disgruntled murmuring among the attendees. Godric let my hand down, and looked at me. “Thank you, Liv”, he said, and nodded for Eric to come take me away. With an arm around my waist, Eric led me off the platform, and into the house again.

---

I was taken back into Godrics office, where the gifts – save the picture Eric had restored – had been removed from. The photograph of Godric, Eric, and the beautiful dark-haired woman, lay on the desk.

My knees were shaking, and Eric led me to sit in the recliner, where Godric had been greeting guests from earlier. Pam closed the doors behind us. “Seriously, Eric. What the fuck?”, she said. “What the hell is he playing at?”. “Stan was right”, Eric said quietly. “Godric is stepping down… he will have to now”. He punched his fist into the desk, making the glass surface shatter. “Fuck!”. “Did I just almost get eaten?”, I asked. “No”, Eric snarled. “Godric had no intention of feeding from you tonight”. Well, he had already had a taste once, I reminded myself. And I’d tasted him.

The double doors slammed open, and Stan stormed in; Godric and Isabel close behind. “I demand that you pull out of the running for another term as sheriff!”, Stan growled. “That display out there was bullshit!”. “It needed to be done”, Godric said. “We have to start showing respect for our human beginnings”. “It was dangerous, Godric”, Isabel said. “You may have lost many supporters”. Godric smiled softly. “Then it is good there are other candidates”, he said, raising a brow at her. Isabel shook her head. “We’ve discussed this. I am not a viable candidate, after what happened with Hugo”, she said. “Damn right, you’re not”, Stan said. “But what you just did out there, leaves me with a fuckload of cleanup once I’m sheriff, if I’m ever going to convince the other areas that Dallas don’t bend to lesser beings. What’s next? We gonna be hooking up with weres now?”. Godric went to sit by his desk. “You both have meetings to attend. Go on”, he said to his underlings. “I’m not going to let this stand”, Stan said, and left the room with vamp-speed. “Master…”, Isabel began. “Please, Isabel… go see to your meeting”. The brunette nodded, and left the room; closing the doors behind her.

The silence in the room was almost deafening, as Eric stared at his maker. I was about to open my mouth, when I saw Pam shaking her head slightly at me. “Hvarför, Godric?”, Eric muttered. “Eric, I am tired”, Godric said. “I want to step down. I don’t want another term”. “You’re the only one able to keep Stan in check”, Eric said. “Without you, it’ll be chaos!”. “I made my stance on our relations to the humans”, his maker responded. “Isabel will continue on in the track I have laid out”. “If she’s voted in!”, Eric said. “Stan is just as likely to win”.

“Don’t the local vampires vote for their own sheriff? Stan doesn’t seem very likeable; who’d want to vote for him?”, I asked. Pam rolled her eyes at my inability to stay quiet. Godric smiled overbearingly at me. “Sheriffs are officially chosen by the vampire Authority, in a popular vote among its chancellors”, he explained. “The sheriffs all speak their mind on each other, in private meetings with the chancellors”, Eric said. “Per custom, the Authority chose the sheriffs based on these conversations – and based on the chancellors’ preferences”. “So… the sheriffs choose each other, and then some higher authority confirms it? Isn’t that nepotism?”, I frowned. Godric’s smile broadened. “It is… and it is how I have remained in power so long”. “The chancellors always have the last word”, Eric muttered.

I saw Godric run his fingertips over the face of the woman on the picture in front of him. “Who is she?”, I asked. He raised his eyes, and looked at me. “That is not necessary for you to know”, Eric said, his voice almost warning me. “She is Eric’s sister”, Godric said, making Eric clench his jaw in anger. “My daughter; chancellor Nora Gainesborough. She has fought for my reelection for the last 70 years”. My eyes widened in realization. “You did what you did, so you wouldn’t have to be sheriff again!”, I said. “You didn’t mean any of what you said”. Godric shook his head. “No, I meant every word”. “You are forcing her hand”, Eric said. “Nora won’t be happy when she hears about this”. “I know it will pain her, but I cannot continue on as sheriff”, Godric said. “This was the only way… And I could make my stance clear”. “You’ve also made your future as a chancellor a complete impossibility”, Eric said.

“Enough, Eric”, Godric said, his voice instantly making Eric cower. “It is done… Now go. I want to speak to the human alone”. Eric looked back at me, and narrowed his eyes. I drew in a short breath, and shook my head – half in fear, half in confusion. “Why?”, Eric asked. “We have things to discuss, which are private”, Godric said. The Viking clenched his jaw, and tried to steady his voice. “You should know that Liv cannot be glamoured”, he said. “If she wants to share what we speak about with you, that is her choice”, Godric replied. “But I trust I don’t have to command you, to not force her to tell you”. “Of course…”, Eric said. “I have a few meetings to attend to”. “I will make sure Liv is safely returned to the hotel”, Godric said. “You can use my secretary, until she returns”. A middle-aged man stepped through the door, and bowed to Godric. Apparently, Godric didn’t see the need for scantily clad young women, when it came to choosing his staff. Eric gave me a last solemn look, before he and Pam disappeared; leaving me alone with the ancient vampire.

Godric got up to stand. “Will you take a walk with me?”, he asked. “Mind if I take off my shoes?”, I replied.

---

The dew on the grass cooled down the beginning blistering on my feet, as I walked through the yard with Godric. Some vampires were in the process of taking down the platform; but they worked so fast, that soon we were alone under the stars.

“I did not think I would ever see you again”, Godric said. “Likewise”, I said. “I need you to know, I never told anyone”. “I knew you wouldn’t”, Godric said. “And yet, as I see you now, you have the same expression of fear on your face, as you had that night. Was my part of our deal not kept up?”. “I… don’t know”, I said. “Thomas has… He’s been sending me messages. Photographs”. “And you’ve seen him again”, Godric said. “Eric’s gift came from him?”. “Eric doesn’t know about what you did… the deal we made”. Godric nodded somberly. “When you saw him… Did he remember you?”, he asked. “He didn’t seem to”, I said. “And he has a woman with him… I think he hurts her. They’re both on V”. If Godric was the kind of vampire that sighed, it was clear he would have. “There was a chance this might have happen”, he said. “The amount of vampire blood in your aggressor’s body that night, may have made him unable to be fully glamoured. Even by me”. “Is that why you couldn’t glamour me as well?”, I asked. “No, I think there is a different reason for that”, he said.

He gave me a look which reminded me of one I’d seen from Eric. “You don’t think I’m human”, I said quietly. “I think you are nothing but…”, Godric smiled. I sighed deeply. “I know you’re not used to talking to humans, but I need you to be little less… unclear”, I said. Godric didn’t reply, seemingly wanting me to explain. “I don’t understand what you mean by me being nothing but. If you know what I am – what it is that makes vampires unable to glamour me – then tell me”. Godric laughed softly. “I’m being perfectly clear. I believe you are as human as you possibly can be”, he said. “I sensed it the moment I smelled your blood. You are pure”. “So, there’s nothing else in me as well?”. “No. Nothing”, he said. “Then, why can’t I be glamoured?”, I asked. “Because of that very reason”, Godric replied. I still didn’t understand his words, but couldn’t think of a way to rephrase my question in a way that would get me a clearer answer.

We walked on for a few minutes. Godric didn’t seem like the type to speak more than necessary, but he seemed willing – even enthused – to speak to me. “You seemed unhappy that Eric gave me his blood”, I said. Godric frowned slightly. “When he did, it was to create a blood-bond with you, wasn’t it?”, he asked. I nodded. “When I gave you mine, it was to heal you. I admit my reason for helping you wasn’t exactly noble; but I wasn’t trying to seduce you”. I instantly blushed. “Eric isn’t really the healing kind, I suppose”, I muttered, and absentmindedly put my fingers to the fang-marks on my neck. “He’s marked you as his, even if you are not”, Godric said, a slight distaste in his voice. “He’s always been…”. “Possessive?”, I said. “Not the word I would use”, Godric smiled. “He doesn’t usually have problem sharing humans as meals or sexual partners. But when he’s set his mind on having something for himself, he is not one to give up”.

We’d come back to the house, and I pulled at some grass with my toes. “I guess he’s had many”, I said; once again without earning a response. “Humans, I mean”. “He’s had a millennium to feed on all the humans he wished; it took me 200 years to teach him how to avoid killing his prey”, Godric said. “But he has not had many he called his own. His sister was one, before she contracted the plague, and Eric brought her to me to be turned”. “Nora…”, I said. “Who was she to him?”. “Sister… lover… Vampire relationships can be many things”, Godric said. I had to keep my jaw from dropping. “You find this… wrong?”. “I… don’t know”, I said. “Your ways are just… very different”. Godric couldn’t help but laugh a little at my statement. “After more than 2000 years being what I am, your ways are also very foreign to me”, he said. “I hope to learn”.

Once we were back in the house, I chewed my lip for a moment, before getting the courage to ask my next question. “You don’t think your glamour on Thomas took?”. I didn’t want to offend the ancient deadly vampire, by calling him impotent as I had Eric. “If it didn’t, we might both have a problem”, Godric said. “What happened that night could turn out to…”. “Bite us both in the ass”, I said. “Pardon the pun”. Godric laughed again. “I understand why Eric has taken a liking to you”, he said. “Speaking of which… I did not only ask for your secrecy for my own sake, but also for his. Both Nora, Eric, and his progeny, Pam, could be in danger from the authority; if it is revealed what I did”. “I understand”, I said. Godric raised his brows at me. “You do?”, he asked disbelievingly. “No”, I admitted. “I don’t really understand your rules or… laws, or whatever”.

I tugged at the hem of my dress, to cover up some. One of the vampires that had stayed behind to clean up after the ceremony, was looking hungrily at my thighs. “I’d think helping me was a good thing, seeing as you’re trying to improve your relationship with humans”. Godric shook his head. “California is what is called a dry state. Biting a human is illegal by your laws there; and heavily frowned upon in our statutes. Though there are those of us who do not believe in following human laws, the official stance on it, is that we are to mainstream, and follow them. To add to that, I gave my ancient blood to a human that has no known value to our community”. I scoffed. “That’s me. No Value Sally”, I muttered. “Can’t even rhyme for shit”.

Godric took me by surprise, by putting a hand on my cheek. Where Eric’s touch was cool, Godric’s was in fact cold; reminding me I hadn’t seen him feed all evening. “You have more value than you can comprehend”, he said. “I admit, that if you didn’t, I might not have helped you that night. I was selfish. Your blood spoke to me – to my memory of different times – and I wanted to taste it. What that man was doing to you, would have killed you; and I would not have had the pleasure”. “You could have just waited until I was dead”, I said. “I do not require much blood to survive”, Godric said, and removed his hand from my cheek. “But what I take, I prefer to be from live, willing donors. I did not wish to make our encounter different. I don’t wish to kill any human”. “What would happen to you, if it came out what happened?”, I asked. “Usually, the vampire that committed the crime would be defanged. In my case – with my age and knowledge of our laws – the punishment would be much more severe; to set an example”. “True death”, I whispered. Godric nodded solemnly.

The vampire who had been admiring my thighs, stepped forwards, and bowed his head to Godric. “Sheriff, your meeting with 16 is in an hour”. Godric nodded. “Liv… Thank you for speaking with me”. I shrugged embarrassedly. “You didn’t really get anything from me. I mostly just asked you questions”. “Your conversation and bluntness has been a gift in itself”, Godric smiled. “Let me walk you out to the car”.

Eric had left behind the sedan for me; probably having flown back to the hotel himself. “Can I ask you one final question?”, I said to Godric, as we stood in front of it in the driveway. He didn’t respond, which I took as a yes. “Why would Eric and Pam be in danger from knowing about what happened? And Nora, if she’s a part of the Authority…?”. Godric frowned slightly. “Eric would be obligated to turn me in to the Authority”, he said. “And he’d feel honor-bound to me to not do so. At one point or another, the truth will come out; and if he is revealed to know of my crime, he’d be sentenced alongside me. He would fight, and he would die. Pamela would go down along-side him… And Nora… Having a criminal maker, could take away her position as chancellor”.

I got into the limo, and gave Godric a final smile. “I’ll stay quiet”, I said. “To protect Eric”, Godric said. I frowned. “Yes… But also, for you”, I said. “You saved my life. I owe you”. “You already paid me back”, Godric smiled. “You let me have your blood”. “Still… Thank you”. Godric nodded in response, and closed the door of the limo.

I sunk down into my seat, and sighed heavily. Eric would want answers when I returned to the hotel.

---

Pam had sent me a message, letting me know to go to a conference room in the hotel. I quickly changed into more conservative clothes – the tight pants and top I’d planned on wearing for the party the night before – and grabbed a quick dinner of a granola-bar from the mini-fridge; before rushing to meet up with her and Eric. They were already seated by a long table; and Eric gave me an approving once over, before nodding for me to stand by the other humans by the wall – one of them being Javier, who’s cheeks were pinker than they’d been the night before. Though disgruntled about being placed in the corner like a piece of furniture – again – at least I’d worn flats this time, and wouldn’t have to worry about falling over where I stood.

Around the table, two other sheriffs and their deputies were sat. One of them was Carl, and the other was a striking woman – striking, mostly due to her overbite. I wondered if her fangs stuck out like her front teeth did, when they were exposed. I must have been very obvious in my speculating – maybe due to my biting my lip – because Pam gazed up at me, and nodded. I stifled a grin.

“If you gentlemen don’t mind, I haven’t eaten all night”, Overbite said, and gestured at a nearby table set up with bottles. “I ordered TruBlood for us all”. The two other human secretaries went over to grab bottles for their bosses, and I followed in their tracks. I let my hand travel over the bottles, looking covertly back at Eric, who nodded slightly, when I got to a bottle of AB negative. Expensive taste, I thought to myself, and grabbed two bottles for him and Pam; before heading back to them, to set them down. I didn’t get a thank you from either vampire, but felt Eric’s hand ghost the back of my thigh, sending shivers down my spine. I went back to stand by the wall.

“Let’s keep this short and sweet, shall we?”, Carl said. “I have some Argentinian twins waiting in my room”. “Well, you were the one to call for this meeting between our areas; why don’t you start it off?”, Overbite said. “Relax, Rose”, Carl said. “It’s nothing as serious as that”. “Then what is it?”, Eric said. Carl sat back in his chair. “My salons”, he said. “I’m thinking of branching out into other states. Specifically, Louisiana and Florida. Humans in your states seem very keen on getting the right… shade”. For a moment, I stood in confusion. “There are enough spas in Florida as it is”, Overbite – or Rose – said. My jaw almost dropped to the floor, when I realized Carl handled in tanning-salons. It struck me as quite counter-productive for a vampire. “We do spray tans as well”, Carl said. “Quite popular among local vampires in California”. Pam seemed intrigued for a moment.

“What’s in it for us?”, Eric said. “Half off on treatments”, Carl smiled. “You could do well to freshen up that pasty Scandinavian hue”. Pam laughed in the sarcastic was only she could. “You want to impose on Eric’s territory without paying for the privilege?”, she said. “Fat chance”. Eric gave Pam a short look, and she sat back in her chair; taking a sip from her bottle of TruBlood. “I take 50 percent, or co-ownership of all vampire businesses in Area 5”, he said. Now I knew where his money came from. “Same for me”, Rose said. Carl shook his head. “That’s out of the question”. “Then this meeting is over”, Eric said, and made to stand.

“20 percent”, Carl said. Eric halted. “40”, he retorted. Carl grimaced. “25…”. Eric smiled overbearingly. “30. And 10 percent ownership”, he said. “Carl, there’s never been a vampire business in Area 5 that has survived its first month; without my support”. “Because you’ve had the buildings burned down”, Rose said, raising a brow at him. Eric shrugged.

Carl clenched his jaw, before slamming his fist into the table. “Fine… But you handle finding locations”, he said. “Already have a few in mind”, Eric smiled. “Send your plans to my email. We’ll be in touch”. So, vampires had email addresses; I realized. “Will do”, Carl said, his expression turning back to smiling. “Rose?”. The third sheriff thought for a moment. “I’m sure we could come to a similar understanding with Florida”, she said. Eric got up to stand, and Pam followed. “Well, then I guess this meeting is adjourned”.

Eric and Pam nodded at the other vampires, but Rose didn’t move. “I’d like to have another word with you Carl. If you don’t mind…”. Carl shrugged. “Of course”, he said. “But we must follow the statutes. Eric, we will need your human as witness; unless you can spare your deputy…?”. “I need Pam with me. We have Area 2 coming up”. The other vampires nodded.

Eric went over to stand in front of me. “I’ll see you in our suite later”, he said; before looking at me meaningfully. “Do your job”. I nodded. Eric was telling me one of the vampires he was leaving me with, would probably try to glamour me to forget what was about to be discussed. I was also about to be alone in a room with completely strange vampires – one of which had made it clear he wouldn’t mind a taste of my blood. Eric seemed to realize this himself, because he seemed reluctant to leave. “I’ll be fine”, I whispered, trying to convince the both of us. He nodded shortly, and grazed my jaw with his knuckles, before following Pam out of the room.

After a few moments, Javier checked the door to see that no one was listening in; and nodded back towards Carl and Rose, before returning to his post by the wall. “This conversation will be off the record”, Rose said. “Of course”, Carl said. “Nothing will leave this room. What can I do for you?”. Rose sat up straight in her chair. “Stan is moving for the sheriffs post in 9”, she said. “That’s no secret…”, Carl said. “And he’ll have it, after that shit Godric pulled tonight”. “Not if Isabel decides to run”, Rose said. “After her human betrayed us like he did? Not likely”, Carl scoffed. “More likely than you think. Her maker is chancellor… And she’ll continue in the track Godric has laid out”.

Both vampires looked intently at each other for a long moment. “You want me to push for Stan to win”, Carl said. “We need as many as possible to do so”, Rose nodded. “If we have enough sheriffs behind Stan, we can force the Authority to make the right choice”. “And Stan is the right choice?”. “Area 9 has sway over the surrounding areas. They follow where 9 leads”, Rose said. “Even Northman listens when Dallas speaks”. Carl chuckled, and shook his head. “Only because Godric is his maker”, he said. “And you still haven’t told me why Stan is the best candidate”.

“This is why!”, Rose growled; grabbed her bottle of TruBlood, and threw it at the wall next to me. The liquid sprayed across the wall, and on me. I made sure not to move; though my knees were shaking. “Ever since we came out into the open among the humans, we have been living like culled animals. We shouldn’t have to take our nourishment from a bottle, when there are cattle walking about; fresh for the reaping!”. Humans were the cattle, I gathered. “That is a dangerous opinion to have in the open”, Carl said. “And feeding from willing humans isn’t illegal”. “Human law should not apply to us!”, Rose snarled. “It’s demeaning to let them consider themselves our equals… When I want to feed, I feed. You don’t ask the cow whether it wants to be butchered!”. There she went with the cattle references again. I was beginning to feel a knot growing in my stomach, and kept my eyes hard on a speck of the spilt TruBlood, on the toe of my shoe.

“You think making Stan a sheriff will make a difference in that matter?”, Carl asked. “He will set the tone for a different relationship with the humans”, Rose said. “And as I said, where Dallas leads…”. “The surrounding areas follow”, Carl said. “That won’t change the stance taken by the Authority on vampire/human relations”. “Fuck the Authority!”.

Carl’s jaw dropped. “Rose… that is treason”. Rose clenched her jaw; a strangely amusing sight, due to her overbite. “What are they good for, anyway? All they do is sit and drum out guidelines and rules they don’t even follow themselves”. She leaned forwards. “Once we’ve gotten Stan elected, I say we create our own set of rules for all of the southern states”. “You’re talking civil war…”, Carl said. The other vampire shrugged. “If it comes to that”.

Carl seemed to shrink in his seat a bit; his flamboyant demeanor no where to be found. “I don’t know if we’re on the same page”, he said. Rose gazed over at Javier. “You can’t be serious… Don’t tell me warm dick is clouding your judgement”, she said. I was finding it harder and harder to keep my composure; I wanted to run screaming from the room. I noticed Javier swallowing hard next to me. “Leave Javi’ out of this”, Carl said. “I wouldn’t dream of touching your pet”.

The two vampires were quiet for another moment, before Rose spoke again. “We have an opportunity to create a new future for our kind. I’m just asking you to stand on the right side of history. You know I’m right; you have always been one to take what you wanted. It’s in our nature”. “We’re not animals”, Carl said. “No, but we could be gods; if we just take what is ours”, Rose said. “I’ll give you some time to think it over, but you should know, the wheels are in motion; whatever happens from the Authorities side. We want to keep this civil, but if they make the wrong choice, we do have a contingency plan. We’re not going to sit idly by, as Isabel drags the south into the mud along with the blood-bags Godric calls allies”. “And if Godric doesn’t step down? If he runs for another term, he will be chosen”, Carl said. “He won’t… even if he does, we have ways to take him down”. “Like what?”.

A smile ghosted Rose’s face. “You know as well as me, that sheriff Godric isn’t as squeaky clean as he pretends to be… He has been breaking a few laws himself”. She knew. She might not know the human Godric had broken the laws for was me, but she knew what he’d done. “We’re past that, Rose…”, Carl said. “Are we?”, she smiled. “Talk to Stan… Let him at least try to convince you”. Carl got up to stand. “I’ll talk to Stan”, he said. “For now, I have another meeting”. Rose nodded, and got up herself. “We will need to glamour Northman’s human. You go on, I’ll take care of it”.

After Carl, his deputy, and Javier left the room, Rose walked over to me. I kept my eyes on the floor, until she was right up in my face. “Look at me”, she said. I let my eyes meet hers. “Liv… isn’t it?”. “Yes”, I said. “Liv… You smell… different”. Her fangs popped out, and as I’d figured, they stuck out along with her front teeth. I bit my tongue too keep from giving away the amusement that was mixing with my fear – a confusing mixture of emotions, honestly. I worked hard to let my eyes go blank. “You just heard two vampires discuss business, didn’t you…?”. “Yes…”. “You heard us talking about how sheriff Rockford is going to set up four new spas across my Area. We only talked about that, weren’t we…?”. “Sheriff Rockford is branching out in Florida”, I said. “And then we toasted in TruBlood, that you served us. But you were clumsy, and dropped a bottle; making it spray all over the room, and on yourself”. “I was clumsy…”, I breathed. “That was all we spoke about”. “Yes…”. Rose patted my cheek. “Good girl. Now run along”.

I left the room as quickly as I could.

#eric northman #eric northman fic #eric northman x oc #eric northman smut #true blood

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msjr0119 · 4 years

Text

One Temptation

Part 7

*This series is based on The Royal Romance characters who belong to Pixelberry - AU Plot switch*

Riley Brooks moves back to New York after leaving five years prior- struggling to get by in life she wanted to go home. After getting mugged, a woman and man come to her rescue and offer her a job at their strip club. A rich business man Liam Rhys is forced to visit the club as part of his bachelor party. What will happen that night?

Warnings: Swearing 🤬 , Smut 🍋😔, rape 😭

Tags-if you want to be removed let me know 😊: @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @whenyourheartskipsabeat @jovialyouthmusic @nz1091 @yukinagato2012 @indiacater @seriouslybadchoices @rainbowsinthestorm @cordonianroyalty @dcbbw @qammh-blog @beardedoafdonutwagon @jared2612 @princess-geek @desiree-0816 @kaitycole

******

“How very touching Drake. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“What do you want Liam?” Riley snapped at him.

“Oh don’t stop on my account. Go on Drake... do carry on. Do you want to go on a date with him Riley?”

“What I do with my life is none of your business! Drake, I’d love to go on a date with you.” Placing her hand into his, she looked up at him and smiled. “I better head back, I’m due at work soon.”

“Yes you’re due to degrade yourself yet again. What does a vet see in a stripper, I’ll never know.” He’s a vet?

“What does a rich man see in a ‘stripper’- I don’t dance or strip Liam, I work in the bar- so get your facts right.”

“Because I know what you are capable of. You always wanted to be a teacher, but you was a brilliant PA.”

“Life doesn’t always go to plan. You of all people should know that! Drake text me to arrange a date. I’m looking forward to it.” Kissing him on the cheek, she scowled at Liam as she walked away.

“It won’t last Drake. She will realise that you aren’t the one.”

“Oh Liam. Get over yourself. She doesn’t love you anymore.”

“But you believe that she will fall in love with you?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. At least I got her pregnant, something you will never do. See ya around BUDDY.” Emphasising the word buddy, he knew what he said was out of line - but enjoyed witnessing Liam’s face drop. Liam grit his teeth, pulling out his phone his dialled a number- hoping that google provided him with the correct number.

“Hello. Wildcats. Rita speaking.”

“Hi Rita. My name is Liam Rhys. I’m the one that caused trouble that night of my bachelor party.”

“Oh....Hello Mr Rhys. How may I help you?”

“Is it true what I’ve heard about the services you offer behind closed doors?”

“Yes it is. Why?”

“I will pay your club, $500k for me to use those services.”

“Of course Sir. I’ll organise it with my main girl Mercedes.”

“I am paying that much because I want a particular girl. Riley Brooks. I want her to have half the money or I’ll refuse to pay.”

“Sir, she doesn’t dance. She’s not comfortable doing what the other girls do, she’s our barmaid and waitress.”

“Do you want the money or not?” Rita remained silent for a bit, not knowing how to react to Liam’s now agressive tone of voice.

“I’ll organise it to be with Riley Sir. You have my word. When do you want to come?”

“Tonight.”

“Great. See you then Mr Rhys.”

Liam hung up smirking. This will put you off her Drake.

*****

Riley was saying her goodbyes to everyone- hugging savannah she faked a smile, not wanting to show everyone how she truly felt. Regret. Jealousy. Upset.

“Thank you for inviting me, but I have to go to work. I hope you have a good ending to your baby shower. When he’s born, I’ll come and see him- I’ll spoil him rotten.”

“Thanks Riley. If you ever need to talk just come over.” Riley knew what Savannah was referring to- before her eyes began to form tears, she quickly thought about how rubbish Bertrand was as a babysitter.

“I’ll come and babysit, Show Bertrand how to really babysit.”

“You’ll have to tell me the stories one day.” Savannah giggled to herself.

“It wasn’t my fault that you and Maxwell were nightmares to look after. Look after yourself Riley.” As she turned to leave, Drake arrived and pulled her to the side, urgency kissing her.

“What was that for?”

“A goodbye kiss. So now you know my secret about being a vet, you must know that I like animals. Rather than go on a date, how about you come to Texas for a long weekend with me- to my family ranch?”

“Really? You want to take me to your home?”

“Yes, really. It’ll get us away from all these morons. Arrange a weekend with your boss and we will go.”

“Okay. I’ll let you know when I get to work. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Good. I’ll ring you later.” Drake couldn’t wipe the smile off his face, as he watched her walk away.

*****

Riley nervously walked into the strip club, running up to her room- she quickly got a shower and dressed in her uniform. Hesitantly walking downstairs to the office, she knocked on the door. Opening it, Rita was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Wow Rita. Have you robbed a bank? Where’d you get all this money from?”

“A punter dropped it off before. He’s coming back later. Do you need me babe?”

“I was wondering if I could have next weekend off? Friday to Monday, I’ll be back to work Tuesday night. I know it’s only a weeks notice but I’d really appreciate it.”

“Sure baby. Have as much time off that you need.” Okay that was easy.

“Thank you so much.”

“No problem. Here have a drink. I’ve got a good feeling about tonight.” Rita smiled, she had placed drugs in the drink. When Liam dropped the money off he explained it would be hard to convince Riley and suggested this. Rita cared for her girls, but she cared more about money and the clubs reputation. Riley accepted the drink, and left the office.

Hey, Drake. She said I could have as much time off as I needed. Texas here we come 😊🙌🏼x

Hey! That’s great! I’ll let my mom know. You’ll love it x

I’m looking forward to it. I’ve never been to Texas before. Do Texan cowboys really exist? X

I can be a cowboy for you? 😉 x

Are you flirting with me Walker? X

Maybe? Once we are there I’ll take you on a romantic date. Have a good shift. I’ll ring you later 😘x

I’ll try. Talk later cowboy 🤠😉😘x

*****

Riley couldn’t concentrate at work, the usual punters were in- drooling over the girls. Watching the clock, she knew she had four hours left. Now knowing the days leading up to Texas would drag. She was unsure about what her relationship was with Drake. Could they get over the termination and be a sincere couple? She hoped so. Rita had kept providing her with drinks throughout the night, she became more and more drunk quickly.

Leaving the bar unattended, she needed to find Rita to ask for cover as she was feeling too ill to work- falling over, some strong arms picked her up and held her.

“Riley are you okay?”

“Li-Liam? Wha- what are you .... doing here?” She slurred, feeling worse now than she was thirty seconds prior.

“I thought I’d come and apologise for my behaviour before.”

“It’s fine.. just accept that myself and Drake could be more than friends. Please Li.” Liam noticed Rita and nodded at her, waving at him he carried Riley over to the secluded back room.

“Riley baby I’m so sorry I’ve done this to you- but he offered us a lot of money, you are keeping half of it.”

“Why are we in this room? I belong behind the fucking goddamn bar Rita!” Still feeling dizzy, Rita passed her some water encouraging her to drink it

“Not tonight baby. This is good for us all. You’ll thank me. He’s your ex so it should be easy. Just do the deed, do what he wants you to do. Remember you owe me, I have looked after you all these months.”

“NO!”

“Riley! Do as I say! Or you’ll have no roof over your head and no job!”

“Riley, this is the closure that I need. One last time with you. Please. And you’ll walk away with thousands of bucks.”

“I don’t want you. I don’t want your money. I’m not a prostitute Liam. All those years ago, all I wanted was for you to love me. Not hurt me. Rita can you leave us alone to talk please.”

“Sure. I’m so sorry Riley. But we need this money. Please don’t let me down.” Riley grimaced at her boss, if she threw her out and sacked her she had options. Moving back in with Maxwell. Sharing with Drake.

“Riley, I’ve never stopped loving you. I regret everything that I’ve done. If you want to be with Drake can’t I just have this last time with you?”

“No liam how many times? No! Do you know how many times I wanted to forgive you? To forget what happened? I slept with Leo for god sake just to have that slight bit of fun- to forget about you for a slight bit of time. Then I come back and find out you have a daughter. I am willing to be friends with you. But you keep pushing me further away.”

“Sleep with me. One last time. Then I will leave you alone. Or a drink? We can talk about the old days to get closure.”

“I’ll agree to the drink, then you get the hell out of here and never come back!”

“Deal.” Liam poured the drink, before adding the secret ingredient. I love you Riley, and I’m going to make you mine again.

“So... why did you never go back to school? Train as a teacher. I could see by drakes expression that you never told him about your dreams.”

“I’m too old now Liam. I’m getting by in life. That’s all that matters.”

“You’re never too old to learn. You’d make a fantastic teacher Riley. You should look into it.”

“Even if I wanted to I couldn’t afford it, I used my grans inheritance to pay off debts. My life has just been one rollercoaster since you did what you did.”

“I could have paid your debts off. You should have come back to me. I’ll pay for you to go back to school.”

“Thank you but no thanks.” Riley decided to drink from bottle in front of them, needing it before hearing anymore of Liam’s bullshit fake personality. Whilst tying her hair back, Liam added more of the drug into the bottle without her noticing. They remained in silence, Liam getting closer to her every second that went by. He noticed her become less defensive and fall into his arms.

“What .... does she have.... that I didn’t?”

“Who?”

“Mad- Madeleine.”

“Nothing Riley. You are worth so much more than she is. I was an idiot, I was thinking with my dick rather than my head and heart. We are having a charity event for the company in a couple of days. I’d like you to come, you did a lot for the company. I won’t tell Drake that you are attending.”

“Sure. Whatever. Is she better.... at sex than I am? Is she... better at oral? I...I can’t ... get my head... around why I ..lost you...”

“No. She was easy. I fucked her. With you I made love. I want you back Riley.”

“Li... no... I love Drake... Drake.. he was the father of our child.... I love him... not you...”

“Riley, you’re not going to remember this. But I have had it recording since we walked into this room just in case you don’t believe me.”

*****

Riley woke up the morning after, not knowing where she was. Her head was spinning, her mouth was dry. Scrutinising the room for clues, she still couldn’t distinguish where she was. Her vision was blurred, seeing her clothes on the floor she quickly got dressed. Just in time before someone walked through the door.

“Morning Belle.” Fuck!

“You look poorly. Have you got some plasters in your bag your arms hurt. I can put it on for you this time.” Riley was shaking uncontrollably, wondering how she ended up in Liam’s bed. “Belle? Do you want me to get daddy? He said you had a grown ups sleepover.”

“Alice, do you know where my phone is?”

“It’s on the table, daddy’s been looking after it.” Storming out of the room, Liam smirked at her- holding her phone out to her. Panicking that he had been checking through her phone she was grateful that she deleted previous texts from Drake.

Hey, I tried to ring but you’re obviously busy at work. I’ll talk tomorrow x

Yes it’s really busy. Sorry talk tomorrow. X

“What the fuck Liam? You text Drake?”

“Alice is here. Don’t swear. I could have told him what happened between us. But I didn’t- so you could say thank you.”

“What happened? How did I end up here?”

“Alice, go and get dressed please.”

“Yes daddy. Bye belle.”

“We talked about the past. I offered to pay your debts off. Feeling sentimental, we had both drank a lot. I asked you to come back here and you agreed. We slept together Ri. I had my closure. I have a video of us, if you want to see it.”

“You made a fucking porno??? Are you fucking insane???? Why won’t you leave me the fuck alone? I don’t even remember it!”

“I drugged you as did Rita. I needed to feel you one last time.” Riley didn’t give a shit if Alice was lingering in the shadows-

“How dare you drug me! Show me the video now!” You son of a bitch! I’m sending this to myself, then to the police.

Liam ripped Riley’s top off, after they shared a passionate forced kiss- he tossed it on to the floor before pulling her on to him. Her body was swaying, she was still slurring her words- but at this moment in time he didn’t care. Seeing her perky breasts in front of him it was tempting him more than ever even though he felt slightly guilty about drugging her to get what he wanted. “Li, I don’t... want... this.. I need... my bed... I love Drake.” When will she shut up about Drake, he thought angrily. Pressing his lips firmly against hers, the tip of his tongue reached out- sliding across her lips. “Drake...”

“I’m not fucking Drake, Riley. It’s Liam!”

“I wa-want Drake... I’m not well...” Liam needed to ignore the fact that she wasn’t in love with him anymore- rather than kiss her he devoured her. Forcing her to lay down on the chaise longue, he was now directly between her thighs grinding his erection against her. Liam moved his lips towards her neck; kissing, biting and sucking the skin. Riley tried to push him away- but was lacking energy, barely able to keep her eyes open. “I love you Ri. I always will do. I can’t let you go.”

“Please.... please Liam.”

“Please what? I’m hard for you Riley, I want you. Do you want me?”

“Please... please don’t...”

“You’ll enjoy it Ri, like the old days when I made you moan my name all night long.”

Moving her skirt up, his hands explored finally reaching the lacy thong. Pushing it to the side, his fingers rubbed her clit hard in circles. Sliding his fingers into her core, he pumped her deep- feeling her cum made him smirk. “That’s it baby, carry on and cum for me again.” Riley had passed out, taking the opportunity fumbled with his belt, removing his trousers and boxers just enough to free his immense hard on. Running his tip between her folds, he forced his penis inside of her- tilting her pelvis up to give him a better angle. Riley was in and out of consciousness, “are you enjoying it baby?” He asked as he pounded her. “Drake?”

“It’s me Liam, Drake isn’t here. It’s just you and I.”

“Get... get off me Liam.”

“Moan for me baby. You’re so wet.” Riley tried to push him away- but he was too forceful. Continuing to roll his hips, he knew he was due to cum- slowing down his movements, he growled as he exploded inside her. Resting his forehead on hers, he kissed her on hers whilst slowing down his breathing.

“Yes, so you raped me. How the fuck did we end up here?”

“I made love to you Riley. You are my true love. I carried you out to my limo. It brought us here. We had sex again. Then I cuddled you all night.” Riley’s skin crawled, she felt dirty and ashamed that she could trust people and allow this to happen to her.

“You fucking raped me you moron!”

“What’s rape daddy?” Riley turned around to Alice, bending down she looked in to the little girl’s eyes.

“Alice, I didn’t mean to use that word. Daddy and me were old friends. That word means we aren’t friends anymore. This ‘sleepover’ was a goodbye. Look after yourself little princess.”

“Okay. Bye belle. Daddy, my nanny is here. I’ll see you later.”

“Love you Princess.” Liam bent down and kissed his daughter goodbye. Riley waiting to hear the door close.

“Stay the fuck away from me Liam! Never touch me ever again.”

“You are still coming to the charity event aren’t you?”

“No I’m fucking not! Goodbye!”

“If you don’t come, I’ll tell Drake.”

“You wouldn’t dare tell him that you raped me.”

“No I’ll tell him that the slut of a girl he is in love with, threw herself at me. I’ll see you at the event.” The jokes on you Liam, I have the video on my phone- for evidence. Arsehole.

“Go fuck yourself!” Storming out the door, she didn’t know where to go. Her boss someone she thought she could trust gave more of a shit about money. Deciding to go to the strip club, she grabbed essential items- and booked herself in at a hotel.

*****

A couple of days later it was the charity event, Riley had spoken to Drake over text- but kept texts simple. She was still furious with Liam. Considering going to the police, she knew even with the video evidence that he would crawl out of it somehow- most likely using his money to bail him out.

Leo picked Riley up with Olivia. Feeling like a gooseberry, she did however feel grateful for them escorting her to the charity event.

“You look amazing Ri. Are you sure you want to go? I can use some lame excuse.” Riley smiled at Leo, taking a deep breath- she nodded her head.

Arriving at the venue, Liam’s eyes widened seeing the trio make their entrance- his gaze mainly focusing on Riley.

“Riley you look beautiful as always. I’ll get you a drink- follow me.” Riley hesitated, Leo noticed her reaction. Even though he was now in a relationship with Olivia, he still deeply cared for Riley and always would do- he would even defend her over his own flesh and blood.

“Oh little brother, you can buy us a drink too if you are feeling generous.”

“I’d appreciate a word alone with Riley if you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine Leo. Enjoy your night with Olivia.”

“If he hurts you or anything, ring me.” Leo whispered, knowing how his brothers personality had changed since Riley had returned to New York. Knowing that Drake hadn’t been invited to the event made her feel like a traitor. Hoping that Liam would just accept friendship and her support for his company was going to be hard to convince him.

“I’m glad you decided to come.” Accepting the drink off him, he noticed her hesitantly drink it.

“Well you did bribe me! I’m not doing this for you. I worked for this company- no matter what happened between us in the past I will support the company.”

“In the past? What about the other night?”

“You took advantage of me. Seeing my bosses eyes light up wafting your wallet around- of course she would agree to your arrangement. I don’t know who you are anymore Liam, money and power has changed you.”

“I’m still me.”

“No you’re not. If you ever loved me, you’d let me go. Let me live my life. Yet you believe you know what’s best for me.”

“Drake isn’t the one for you. You didn’t even know what he did for a living until the baby shower. I can look after you, Alice adores you- all she talks about is you. We can be that family that you always wanted. You can work for me, have your old job back. Please Ri.”

“No. I’m content at the strip club, when arseholes like you don’t come in. I’m going to tell Drake what happened that night, if he doesn’t want anything to do with me - fair enough. If he does, then I am going to go on a date with him as planned. I had a family and I let my child down. Do not try and tell me what I want Liam or what is best for me.”

“We had sex!”

“It meant nothing to me Liam. I was forced into it by you and Rita. Excuse me, I’m going to find Maxwell. Please do not follow me.” Grabbing her wrist, she slapped him across the face. Immediately letting go of her, the sting still lingered. “I mean it liam, stay away from me or I’ll advertise to the whole company what you did to me. I believe I am being extremely stupid even stringing a sentence to you. Even considering to be nice to you.”

“I didn’t rape you Riley.”

“Of course you didn’t! You are fucking stupid, delusional. Get out of my face Liam. Even when I was half a fucking sleep, who’s name did I keep saying on that porno you created? Drake! Not you! Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“Is everything okay here?” Leo watched the pair since she they were on their own, keeping an eagle eye on every movement- it was now time to intervene as Riley slapped Liam across the face.

“Everything is fine. I was just saying goodbye to your brother for good. He thinks it’s acceptable to drug and rape women who he apparently loves.”

“I didn’t rape you! How many times?”

“Oh Leo, he even recorded it.”

“She was drunk, she was begging for it.”

“I was begging for you to stop. I wanted Drake. Not you. I’m leaving.” Leo grit his teeth, wanting to beat the shit out of his brother. He knew Riley wouldn’t lie about something like this.

“Mr Rhys? May I have a word?” Liam nodded, excusing himself from Leo- both brothers pulled out their phone, each sending a text to Drake.

Drake I’m really sorry, but myself and Riley slept together the other night. I’m so sorry for hurting you like this. But I think she wants to give it another go.

Drake you need to ring me ASAP! It’s about Riley and Liam.

Leo put the phone away, as he did he had a notification. Assuming it was Drake, it was a video attachment- Leo watched, and began crying.

“What’s up?” Olivia and Maxwell came over to see what the matter was with Leo- not really wanting to show the two of them what Riley had sent, he felt the need to for her sake. To get everyone on her side. Seeing their eyes widen, and their jaws agape, he was glad Riley secretly sent it to herself and forwarded it to him. It was her way in asking for help and support.

“Holy shit! Where is he? I’m going to kill him.”

“Leave my brother to me max! Go to your place, I’ll meet you there. I need to speak to Drake.”

******

Knocking on the door, Riley hoped he was in- she was going to tell him the truth, hoping he would listen to her. If she had lost him for good, there was no point in staying in New York.

“Thank god you’re in, we need to talk.”

“Riley, I’m actually busy.” He responded in a melancholy tone of voice. Receiving the text off Liam, broke his heart. Riley walked into the apartment ignoring his bullshit excuse.

“You’ve packed early. We’re not going to Texas until Friday.”

“You’re not going to Texas. I’m going there now.”

“What?”

“You heard me Riley. Live your life with Liam, I know. He text me and told me. I hope you’re both very happy together.”

“What did he text you?” Showing her the text, her nostrils flared.

“Drake he’s lying. It’s not that. I want to be with you. He means nothing to me. I was looking forward to spending time with you.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before Riley. I’m not angry, I’m hurt that I found out from him. I thought we had something, we was going to put things behind us- move on. You both have a lot more history, I’m happy for you.”

“Drake?” Ignoring her, he picked up his bags and left the apartment. Wiping the tears that he had held in - he shook his head. Riley fell to the floor crying uncontrollably, texting Maxwell she hoped he would come back.

*****

Maxwell left the event immediately, as he arrived he saw Drake loading his truck.

“Where are you going?”

“Texas. Why?”

“Have you seen Riley? I need to make sure she’s okay. I fucking hate Liam.”

“Yes, she’s in the apartment. I’ve said goodbye.”

“How can you leave after what happened?”

“Why not? She’s with Liam now. He told me that.” Showing the text, Maxwell was furious. Asking Leo to quickly forward the video to him, he needed to show Drake that Riley was innocent.

“Just wait, Leo’s sending me something. Don’t go just yet.” Drake rolled his eyes back, the longer he stayed here the more it was hurting. “Here. Sit down. Watch it. It’s not nice. Riley loves you Drake. Don’t leave her.” Drake looked at Maxwell, who put his head down as the video began. Watching the video made him feel sick, regretting believing Liam over Riley- he abandoned the bags and ran back into the apartment.

“Riley?” Seeing her in the kitchen, he ran up to her- holding her tightly. Tilting her chin up, he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Maxwell walked in, leaning against the doorframe- he smiled softly at the two of them. “I’m so sorry. If I see him, I’m going to kill him with my bare hands. I love you too.”

“How do you know I love you?”

“Leo, sent the video to max who showed me. Stopped me from leaving. Don’t be mad at them.”

“I’m so sorry, I let him do that to me. I don’t remember. Rita drugged me too. He gave her a shit ton of money to do it.” Unable to stop the tears, Maxwell came over to the two of them. Pulling her in for a hug, he was hoping that Leo wasn’t going to do anything stupid.

“Ri, stay here with us. We will both protect you. Leave the strip club, I’ll help you find another job. Please.”

“Max is right, I’ll provide for the two of us.”

“You could provide for the three of us with your wage packet.” Maxwell winked at Drake, hoping she would listen to their advise.

“You better be joking Beaumont, I’ll provide for her not for you too. Riley, we will go to Texas tomorrow. Together. As planned but a few days earlier. I’m self employed, so we can go for as long as you need. Besides Maxwell can spend some alone time with the new lady in his life without me feeling like a gooseberry.”

“Oh just like I felt like a gooseberry when you two fucked for the first time. I’m gonna go to sleep guys, don’t go awol without saying bye. Night besties.” Drake led Riley to his bedroom, throwing her a top to wear- he stripped down into his underwear. Turning around, the top was still where he threw it, Riley was sat up in bed naked- biting her bottom lip. God she looks so sexy when she does that.

“Are we sleeping naked now?” He asked in a seductive tone of voice. Crawling on to the bed and up towards her, he had an immediate erection. For months he was hoping to see her like this again. As he got within reach, Riley pulled him closer- placing her lips onto his chest. Providing light kisses, his hands explored her body. Arching her back, she moaned as he kissed her neck.

“Drake, don’t stop. I’ve missed you. I’m so sorry for everything that has happened.”

“Don’t be sorry, none of it is your fault.”

“The termination was my fault, I called that decision- a decision I’ve regretted ever since. Liam, everything to do with him is my fault.”

“At the time, I disagreed with that decision- I was being selfish. I wish we didn’t do it, but looking back it was for the best. Liam who? We need to erase him out of our life.”

“Can we start over? A fresh new start?”

“Sure, what I said at the baby shower- I meant it. I’ll protect you from now on, I’ll love you. In the future, if we are still as we are- we can try for a baby. It won’t ever replace the first one.” Laying next to her, she snuggled into his embrace.

“You mean if we are officially dating. In a relationship.”

“Yes. Who knows you may not be able to keep your hands off me, you may fall madly in love with me and marry me.”

“‘Maybe.” Riley giggled to herself, loosening his grip on her- they began kissing again as if their lives depended on it.

“Jesus you two! Cover up!” Both jumping, they were grateful that they had only got to first base. Pulling the duvet up to cover their naked bodies, they both turned around to face Leo.

“Leo... who’s blood is that on your hands?”

#choices trr #drake walker #the royal romance #riley brooks #drake x riley #drake x mc #liam x mc #liam rhys #evil liam #maxwell beaumont #bertrand beaumont #savannah walker #olivia nevrakis #leo rhys #trr fan fic

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raybyanothername · 5 years

Text

Sonny's Itch - SEAL Team

In which Sonny finds out that Clay and Brian were a thing and helps the young SEAL deal with his grief as only Sonny can. Mostly with whiskey.

Set in a non-specific time period.

Prompt from allyhope over on Ao3: "I've imagined stories where Clay and Brian had been together and Brian dies, and the Bravo team find out Clay is gay when he joins the team, but I'm never going to get that story!"

-.-.-

He had an itch. The sort one couldn't physically scratch. It niggled at the back of his mind. Just. Itching.

"Sonny," Davis waved a hand in front of his face, beers in her other hand and eyebrow raised high, "You okay?" Sonny shrugged. He took the beer. Davis laughed, shoved his shoulder, "Come on, what's wrong?"

"I do not know," Sonny narrowed his eyes, "And that! Is the problem." Davis plopped onto the couch beside him, feet curled up beneath her. Sonny sank backwards.

The itch persisted.

Davis paused the movie that Sonny was officially not watching, "Alright, let's figure it out. Who?" Sonny scrunched his face up as he glanced at Davis, "Who on the team are you worried about?" Davis enunciated every word.

"You're a genius." Sonny stood up, chuckled. He pointed at Davis, "Little buddy. He was all fidgety during the mission."

Davis nodded, "He did seem off. You think something's up?"

Sonny grinned, snapped his fingers, "I'mma find out!" His beer was forgotten on the coffee table as he ran out the door. Davis chuckled to herself as she watched him go.

"Crazy cowboy." She took a gulp from her beer and hit play.

-.-.-

When Sonny stood outside Spenser's apartment he wasted no time with pleasantries and knocked obnoxiously, "Spenser!" He used both hands to drum on the wood, "Open says-a-Sonny!"

"What the hell, man?" Spenser opened the door with a quick yank. Sonny took in the ruffled hair and red eyes, glossed over the sweats, and then shoved his way into Spenser's apartment.

"I got myself an niggling itch in the back of my head," Sonny looked over the apartment as he walked across the wood flooring.

Clay chuckled behind him. "I think they make cream for that." Sonny heard the door swing shut.

Take out on the counter, on the coffee table, a box of photos, some splayed out on the floor beside a pile of blankets that indicated Clay hadn't been sleeping in his bed. "It was pointing me directly at you."

"I'm good." Clay wasn't a particularly good liar. Sonny raised an eyebrow, indicated the nest by the couch. "Just, uh, been thinking about the past."

"Oh, yeah?" Sonny stepped towards the pictures, Clay appeared in front of him quicker than a bullet. "What part of the past?" He raised an eyebrow, watched Clay fidget in front of him.

"My, uh, my friend Brian's birthday was this week." Clay looked just about everywhere but Sonny's face, "The big 3-0, ya know, we'd, uh, been planning to do something."

Sonny clasped Clay's shoulder, "That calls for alcohol." He detoured to the kitchen, was happy to see that Clay was well stocked in the way of beer and whiskey. He grabbed both.

"Isn't drinking when you're upset a bad thing?" Clay had settled back into his nest, was fumbling to pick up photos from the ground before Sonny could see them.

Sonny plopped onto the couch, tried hard (and failed) not to look at the scattered mess. He handed Clay the whiskey. "Thought you said you were good?"

Clay took the alcohol, took a long drag from the bottle. Ray'd probably not approve. Sonny clinked his beer with the bottle when Clay took a breath.

"So?" Sonny waited, Clay glanced up, "Tell me about your buddy." A bright red blush bloomed on the kid's face - not alcohol induced. Sonny squinted at Clay."He wasn't just your buddy, was he?"

"Well," Clay cleared his throat, "We were close."

Sonny snickered, "I bet." He took a drink, "Suppose that explains some things." Sonny thought back to Spenser sitting in the cafeteria after Armstrong's death. He'd looked pretty pathetic, even lost. "How long you two together?"

"Since BUD/S." Clay reached out for a particular photo. Sonny watched a ghost of a smile grace the kid's face.

The photo was obviously older. Clay didn't even look old enough to grow a beard for one. If Sonny didn't recognize the crest in the background the two men might have passed for college students.

"That's a long while." Sonny gestured to the photo, "You look happy." The kid did too. So did Armstrong. All smiles. "Couldn't have been easy, keeping a relationship like that under wraps so long."

Clay chuckled, threw the photo onto the coffee table. "Yeah." The kid sniffed and then took another chug from the whiskey bottle.

Sonny watched him a while longer. Watched him pick up photos. Afghanistan. Vegas. Iraq. Liberia. Spenser grew a beard, Armstrong gained freckles. They never stopped smiling.

"Come on." Sonny lowered himself from the couch to the ground to sit beside Clay. He wrapped an arm around the kid. "Tell me something."

"He thought he was a lot funnier than he actually was." Clay's laugh was a little watery, but Sonny pretended not to notice. "Use to joke that his real job for the Navy was keeping me from doing something stupid."

Sonny considered all the trouble that seemed to just find Spenser, "Might be something to that one."

"Probably." Clay tucked his chin against his chest. "We were thinking of going diving in Hawaii after we made the teams, for his birthday. First time we had the time, ya know, check out the Molokai Express."

"There are far easier, and less stupid, ways to visit Tahiti," Sonny shook his head. Brian wasn't that good at keeping Clay out of trouble, if they were going to try to swim in that sucker.

Clay shrugged, "That's what Brian said too, actually."

"A voice of reason," Sonny smiled, "My mama always said you needed at least one of those in your life." Clay nodded, settled into the half-hug a little more. "She also said a thing or two about people looking after us from heaven."

"Wasn't that also a George Strait song?"

Sonny tapped him on the back of the head, "Steve Wariner."

"If you say so," Clay smirked, pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped himself up tight in a ball.

Sonny picked up one of the photos on the ground. The two were sun-burnt as hell and wearing Mickey Mouse ears on their heads. "Alright, now tell me about this one here?"

-.-.-

"Spenser's hungover." Jason scowled at the blond sleeping in the hammock. Ray shook his head.

"Leave him be," Sonny walked up beside the two, "He earned that hangover." Jason scoffed.

Ray crossed his arms, "You get him drunk?" Sonny shrugged.

"Technically, it was the whiskey." Sonny pushed his cap up a little to properly emphasize his point. With eyebrows specifically.

"You ever figure out what the itch was about?" Davis called from the other side of the plane. Her question stopped what was surely a mighty fine lecture from Ray.

"What itch?" Jason sighed, dragged a hand down his face, "And please tell me it doesn't involve a stripper."

"Better not, he didn't invite me," Trent knocked Sonny's shoulder as he walked past.

Sonny pursed his lips, rocked back on his heels, "Not that sorta itch. Kid was off, couldn't shake the feelin' he was in need, so I went to check on him."

"Big Brother Sonny to the rescue huh?" Ray smiled, arms uncrossed. Hands went to his hip, "It have to include whiskey?"

"Whiskey was his." Sonny shrugged again.

Jason's gaze flicked over to the kid, "What was up with him?"

"Remember Armstrong?" Sonny raised an eyebrow.

"The guy who bought it in Green Team?" Trent asked. Sonny nodded. Cerberus walked past them all to curl up beneath Clay.

"He and Spenser were friends right," Brock leaned against the wall of the plane, coming over from his own hammock.

Sonny pursed his lips, waggled his eyebrows. The significance dawned on Ray first, "O-h!"

This realization was followed by several slack jawed expressions from various members of Bravo and a communal turn to stare at Clay's hammock. Sonny nodded.

"You know, that makes sense," Ray puckered his lips as he nodded to himself, "The kid was way more shaken by his death then I would have expected."

Jason groaned, "Feel kinda like a jerk now, ragging on him."

"I have so many questions," Trent grinned to himself. "Mostly, did Seaver figure it out?" He chuckled, "That'd be talent, slipping something like that past him, during Green Team no less."

Brock shook his head, "Who cares about Green Team, they went through BUD/S together." Yet another communal turn to stare at Spenser, who fidgeted in his sleep this time.

Good instincts. Because even Ray had a mischievous twinkle to his eyes now. Cerberus growled, low and quiet, and they dispersed.

"Traitor," Brock whispered at his dog as he passed by.

#ray writes #seal team #clay spenser #sonny quinn #fanfic #fanfiction

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headoverhiddles · 5 years

Text

Sidewinder: Volume II - Budd (Kill Bill) x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: Four years after you “died”, you realize you can’t keep up the charade alone.

Notes: Second and last part! Budd, my sweetheart. Ahh. This isn’t my best work, buuut it has all the feels. Hopefully you enjoy!

Part One Here

You slam another beer down in the country dive bar, just outside of El Paso.

"And then I got him in real close. I pulled him right to my face, and he knew what he'd done." You wipe your mouth, drunk out of your mind. "And then... and then he tried to tell me he still loved me, that he was sorry, and you know what I did?"

The young guy bartending raises his eyebrows. "What'd you do?"

"I stuck my knife right into his heart," you sniffle, and take another sip of beer. The bartender spends a long time staring at you, then sighs, leaning forward.

"Shit, honey. You ain't seen him since that day, have you?"

A single tear rolls down your cheek.

"No."

Driving down the desert highway, you start to feel nervous. It had been four years since you had seen any of them. They all thought you were dead, and you had remained under the radar. You still hadn't let anyone get too close to you over this time-- maybe because your training was so heavily ingrained in you, or maybe because of Budd.

Even whispering his name made you want to cry.

All he'd been was a fuck buddy. But there was definitely something more there, something you hadn't left behind that day. You feel the sharp pain in the right side of your ribs where the bullet had gone through as you turn to get your sunglasses from the compartment.

You had blamed him for a while-- for turning on you. Now, the heat of the day in your memory blurred the lines. You weren't even sure if he had turned on you or not. It just made you feel better to tell yourself you found him, and took your revenge.

But you couldn't ignore it any longer. You had to find him.

The place you had tracked him down to was almost impossible to pinpoint. He was living in a trailer, just off the highway by the mountains.

After driving a day and a half, you finally see it in the distance. A fire crackles in front of it, and you pull over. Closing the door, nobody makes a move to exit the trailer, so you walk closer to it.

Just as you're getting up to the front door, it blows open, and the door hurtles past you. You look at it, then inside, where Budd's sitting in a lawn chair with a shotgun, a cowboy hat hanging low on his head.

Your heart hammers in your chest, as you two look at each other again. He stands up, stunned, and you gasp a little, remembering to breathe.

"So," you laugh weakly, stepping one cowboy boot up onto his doorstep. "I take it you've quit the life too."

---

He pours two margaritas, and holds one out. "There you go. Wrap your lips around that." That sends shivers through you.

"You've changed," you mention, accepting the drink with a good glance to his biceps.

"Yeah," he nods, "Guess so. Not for the better, I'm told. Nice boots."

"You still talk to Bill? ...You too."

"You know I'm not gonna rat on ya."

"I just mean, do you still talk as brothers?" Budd looks down. Must be a sore subject now, so you change it. "Where do you work?"

"Titty bar."

"Oh," you smirk, "That's nice. I'm a stripper."

He looks up. "No shit." He shakes his head. "Always had the ass for it."

"I'm fucking with you," you mutter, rolling your eyes, "The day I become a stripper is the day I'll wish I really had been shot." You shrug. "Just me, though. Nothing wrong with other girls making honest money... from not killing people."

"Cheers to that," he mutters, and you clink your little jars of ice and tequila, "I'd even become a fuckin' stripper if it meant erasing the messy shit I've done." You look at him for a while, and he feels your eyes on him. After a second, he taps his glass. "You can say it, honey."

"Say what?" He gives you a look, and you shake your head. "Budd, I'm not gonna say shit." You take a long sip of your drink, and look at him, your heart beating faster. He definitely has changed, from a clean cut, sharply dressed suit-wearing assassin to a drunk cowboy, jeans, dusty wifebeater and all. But as much as you denied it, you wanted him to be your drunk cowboy. Even after all these years of fantasizing about killing him for what he did (or was made to do) one thing was still painfully clear.

"What is it?" he asks, voice barely above a whisper. Those icy blue eyes are searching, and you feel a lump in your throat.

"I still love you."

You lean forward, and pressing a hand to his chest, kiss him. He accepts your kiss, wrapping his arms around the back of your head, and you straddle him, the two of you kissing like you'll die without each other. When you pull away, he looks down, laughing a little. His brown hair falls in his eyes, and you brush it back as he looks back up.

"What do you mean 'still'?"

You push him a little, smirking. He was right-- you had never said it before, but the both of you knew. It was unspoken, each time he'd slept with you, but the feelings grew each time.

You hug your arms around yourself. "I was vulnerable. You know I couldn't admit it to myself. Especially with Bill."

"I understand, honey. You don't gotta explain it." He sits back, obviously relieved. "Hell. I thought you'd take one look at me now, and high tail it. That is, if you ever came back."

"You glad I did?" you ask, laying him down.

"Yes," he groans, and you grind down onto him, kissing again. His hands wander up your ass, squeezing you, and you shudder. It's as if no time has passed.

Tears gather in your eyes as you lift yourself up onto him, and he moans your name softly as he pushes in.

"I missed you," you whisper, cradling his face, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

"Missed you too, honey."

You rock down onto him, every emotion you'd felt toward Budd through the past 4 years coming to the surface. As your anger bubbles up, you ride him harder, and he clutches your hips.

"Why'd you help him?"

"He's my brother."

"Kiddo was like a sister to me. They would have killed me. All of them. For all you know, I was dead for four years."

"And I blamed myself for all of 'em, you better believe I did. But I went for you. When they all started shootin', I protected you."

"Really," you breathe, lifting up your shirt to expose your breasts and the scar that ran down your rib cage, "Then how did I get this?"

"I'm sorry," he mutters, "I'm so sorry, angel… I couldn’t stop that."

You wish you had a gun, a sword, anything to hold to his neck and demand he tell the truth. But you can see in those eyes, that always showed what he was thinking, that he was.

You fall into him, laying over top as he fucks you to completion. You both gasp each others' names, and he sighs, holding you in his arms in that little desert trailer.

You listen to the sound of distant coyotes, and the rare rattle of a passing snake. Budd kisses you lazily, and you kiss back with soft, sweet moans, making up for time lost. Surrounded by predators instead of preying yourself, you've never felt more at ease.

Budd kisses your temple, sighing. "She's still alive, you know."

You hold your breath. You don't know how to respond.

"All the others are dead... and she's coming for us too."

"...For you."

He looks down at you, and you stare straight ahead at that door. If Beatrix came through that door right now swinging a Hattori Hanzo, you don't know which side you'd pick.

Or maybe you do. You just don't want to say it.

#budd x reader #kill bill #kill bill vol. 2 #kill bill vol. 1 #kill bill volume 2 #quentin tarantino #tarantino #tarantino fanfiction #fanfic #michael madsen #michael madsen x reader #michael madsen smut #budd smut #kill bill smut #kill bill fanfic #reader x michael madsen

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anxious-band-pan · 4 years

Text

A list of random crackheadery from high school cause I low key miss it

“I’m gonna yeet myself into the afterlife”

“I’m gonna rotisserie cook your future children and eat them”

“KARMA’S A B*TCH!” Yelled while playing a game of uno in homeroom very loudly

a kid walked around our lunchroom with a fake blue bird pinned in his hair which was life size and honestly the weirdest part of lunch

“What should i put on my shirt for (x club)? It’s between uwu, Space Boi uwu, and rawr XD. My goal is to be as cringey as possible.”

*crying* “Well you just threw off my groove and i-“

(To the tune of G-6) “I’m a dumb bish, I’m a dumb bish”

“(X name)! How far would you have been if i didn’t stop you to tell you you’re a thot”. “Probably yeeted off a bridge by now”

“He just looks like a sad pigeon with a boss hat”

(To the tune of celebrate good times) “end my suffering, come on!”

“My hands are white!” “YOU’RE WHITE!”

“I’m a firm believer in don’t judge something unless you try it, unless it’s illegal or drugs; don’t do drugs kids”

“.....but not all dogs can fit on skateboards!”

“Can we just cut my legs off and sell them”

“Invade my body, daddy bacteria”

“That’s what I imagine it would sound like if a spider ran in tap shoes”

“My church had an average attendance of 421 this year, we were so freaking close”

“Did you know that Waluigi has the same number of syllables as hallelujah, so if you think of any song with hallelujah in it you can replace it with Waluigi and it’ll fit”

“Anyone wanna feel my swollen gland”

“Your gay is like your mother’s tendency to sleep with men: plentiful”

“If being gay is a sin is satan the gay fairy”

“Vines are like actual vines: you get stuck and you never get out” “vines can choke you though” “Yes choke me daddy vine”

“You are each gonna have a burger component on your back” “I wanna be the meat ;)”

“Grab me however you want daddy hamburger”

*showing a paper with a picture of a bottom bun* “I guess you could say I’m a.... bottom”

“STOP EATING THE DUCT TAPE!”

“Shut up, don’t talk about my potatoes like that”

“Can you snort tide pods”

*whisper screaming and hitting a chair* “WHY IS COTTON EYED JOE BACK”

“But if two furries screw, is god cool with that?”

“PHD- pretty high dolphins”

“Do crocs have memory foam? i think not”

“I’ve run out of creative ways to whip”

“This is why we shouldn’t legalize weed, because we’re having this conversation sober”

“Don’t you just get sad every time a chair dies”

“Praise our lord and savior, Magic Mike”

“I’ll give you fifty bucks if you can guess what’s in my thermos.” “Coffee.” “No. It’s chicken noodle soup”

“I’m gonna eat your fingernails” “did you say EAT” “yeah, I’m gonna chew his fingernails off”

“I already went back to Mexico”

“You’re the BFG” “How so” “Big Frickin Gay”

“But since you’re gay, would you date me if i was” “the only way I’d date you is if you were an online catfish”

“We have a speaker with fake arms today” “he cant bring those in the school those are weapons” “how is he gonna throw them?” “With his feet”

“did you say the THOT police?” “no you idiot the THOUGHT police”

“I’m not scared of Russia. Like honestly i can beat them”

“I share a brian with satan and it smells shirty” (not a typo. Those exact words. I think it was making fun of a typo)

“I look like I’m about to go repaint all my mugs with lead paint”

“And today on the game show of sentences i never thought I’d have to say: it’s not a necklace if you buy it in the pet aisle of walmart”

“You look like the kind of person who would cut spaghetti with dull scissors”

“Hey, hey, hey, not in my f***ing Christian Minecraft server”

“We’re all going to hell” “Not me” “listen we’re in a school we’re already there” “True”

*to the tune of “what is love? Baby don’t hurt me”* “POKÉMON! BABY DON’T HURT ME, DON’T HURT ME, NO MORE”

“YO! PITBULL JUST CAME IN AND OFFERED DONUTS!”

“I’m gonna suck your eyeballs”

“Are we not allowed to have our nails painted since we’re guys” -a definite female, to another definite female

“Ok, so here’s the deal: straight people are uncooked spaghetti. Gay people are cooked rotini. I’m kinda like a cooked spaghetti. I’m not straight, I’m in between.” “The Italian is now interested I’m here what’s up with pasta”

“This song reminds me of Mexican food” “How does this remind you of Mexican food it’s jazz?”

“You’re not allowed to switch schools, I need my twin cop”

“You guys are the reason I wanna die” “you guys are the reason I drink”

*taking a huge drink of peanut butter hot chocolate* “I’m allergic to peanut butter” “THEN WHY DID YOU DRINK IT????” “Because i wanna die”

“so there’s two kinds of country hicks: the yee haws and the haw yees. Now the yee haws are the ones in country songs, they’re vaguely normal and drink and do horse riding stuff. The haw yees are the ones who fish with their hands and then f*** their cousins afterwards”

“Pop is just spicy water”

“I’m sorry, it’s not pizza Steve anymore” “Who is it” “the fresh prince of bel air”

A kid took his phone out of the microwave like that was a normal thing that humans do

“BUT IS HE DATING THE DEER?!”

“Chinese people eat cats, why not lesbians?” *teacher looks up* “saying Chinese people eat cats is too far”

“A gryffindor and a ravenclaw ooh this is good”

Two girls at the exact same time: *Gasp* TEA!

*girl leans back and cracks her head on a counter kind of thing* a friend:”that’s the third f***ing time!”

“SUCK MY WEENIS!”

“If you ever need a professional con artist I’m here” *teacher looks up* “you didn’t hear that” teacher:”hear what”

“Guys I’m stupid. You know when there’s a big number and then a lil number what’s the lil one called” “exponent?” “Yeah!”

*impersonating yoda screaming*

*chugging coffee* “well, I’m still just as tired, but now my atoms are just jazzed.”

“Not to quote Frozen, but you can’t marry a man you just met!”

“Not knowing what kind of exorcise people are talking about is always interesting, because I don’t know if we’re talking about working out or satan”

“If we actually die in the scene where they kill themselves, do we get bonus?” Teacher: *sighs* “sure.”

“Physically you have hair but spiritually you’re bald.”

*Singing boyfriend by BTR for about an hour straight*

“Stop saying teehee you sound like off brand Michael Jackson”

“He smells dead mice for a living!”

*kicking someone’s foot off a ledge* “long live the king!”

*holding a banana like a weapon* “give me all your debt!”

“I want my fingers to be four inches long”

“Let me read your head for a second”

“Oh no you’re white out now”

“This is what happens when your insides are cold”

“Did you just call me a dumb banana?”

“So Kelvin is Fahrenheit...”

“Let me add another fat roll to your arm”

“You wanna see a cute pic of my baby nephew?” “Sure but I might cry”

“Listen I need these pictures to load so I can see if my goats are being little crackheads”

“I keep trying to see if you’re a VSCO girl but you’re holding out on us”

“Pumpkin. Spice. Bleach.”

“I’m already a mother and I don’t like it.”

“This is a vegan cult, Jessica”

“Did you just say you started a religion?” “Yeah, I think I’ll call it the Fedoras”

“Isn’t a fedora just like... a cowboy hat but formal”

“Yes choke me daddy panic”

“I’m your emotional support crackhead deal with it”

“She got possessed by country satan”

“If you think about it toes are just little feet”

“Oh my god imagine if you pronounced Roosevelt like goose”

“Roosevelt got really sad when i broke up with him.”

“I love how I just classified reaper as its own state of being”

“So Santa’s not a cryptid”

“We’re not meat creatures like crabs”

“Do you want to be a famous writing?”

“Self care is becoming a breaded chicken tender on the weekends”

“You are a little yellow boy”

“I gotta look up how to have a stroke”

“At least you still have straight privilege”

“You piece of b*tch”

“Children having skulls is scary”

“You wanna crochet my friend a rat”

“If you kill yourself and you have a life insurance policy that your family then collects, is that insurance fraud?”

“Spaghetti man is talking about pregnancy and I’m scared”

“You’re the cutest trash I’ve ever seen”

“Poetry? Lame. DriversEd? Lame. Dousing myself in butter and becoming a dinner roll? F*ckin’ MINT”

“Finally, an invention to get rid of me” *zooms in on words garbage disposal*

“Is Swiper from Dora a furry or an actual fox?”

“I’m laughing because I just realized the word identity has t*tty in it”

“Oh my god I thought Paris was a country”

“Girl if you are having a baby this month the only thing you are birthing is FLAT Stanley”

“My eyes really said gardening”

“I snorted soapy water this morning”

“Intestines: do you really need them or are they a social construct?”

“I watched the first episode of that show illegally, and it was great”

“How much does a hit man cost in this economy?”

“Is santa wearing stripper heels?”

“No, I didn’t give birth to a baby cow”

“I am a whole grape not a raisin”

“I’ve decided on my career. I’m becoming a hit man for cheap”

“And you fought the tomato”

“You can be gay with the homeless”

0 notes

hannahindie · 7 years

Text

I Believe in Miracles: Part 3

Characters: Cas x Reader, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Word Count: ~3,200 Warnings: I think we all know where this is going, but stripping. There is stripping. Winchester snark, a reeeaaaalllllly tiny outfit that should never be used for this particular activity, insinuated violence, and some more stripping. A/N: This is the final part of the series that I wrote for @winchesterprincessbride‘s challenge, so if you haven’t read the first two yet, you can catch up to part 1 here and part 2 here! This was beta’d by the lovely @trexrambling and @pinknerdpanda and I love them more than I love most things on this planet. I hope you enjoy! As usual, tags are at the bottom. If you’re missing or would like to be added, please let me know!!

The corner booth of a diner...still somewhere in Nebraska

“Alright, Cas, you’ve got your name, you’ve got your song. We’ve gone over the basic moves you’ll need if you even have to go on stage. Do you have your outfit?”

The angel nodded, “Yes. It is...um...it is in my pocket.”

Dean choked back a snort at the realization that what Cas had planned to wear was small enough to fit in his coat pocket. Cas glared at him and tilted his head, and Dean waved him off, “I’m sorry man, this whole thing is just...I didn’t think our lives could get any weirder.”

“There are days where I think that staying in Heaven would have been a wiser choice.”

Dean laughed, “Awe, come on Cas, how many angels can say they stripped to-” he was interrupted by his phone ringing, “Hello? Oh hey, Sammy. Awesome, she’s okay? Yea, I bet...wait, what? You had to fight a what now? Well, shit. Are there any more?.....What do you mean you don’t know? No, no...I understand...what….hello? Hey Y/N...stop yelling! You want me to do what….dude, that’s sick. I’m sorry, I didn’t expect….yep. Okay. You got it...well, not that part, but yea...okay. Bye.”

He hung up, and Cas looked at him expectantly, “Well? Is she okay? What did she say?”

Dean couldn’t help but smile at Cas’s obvious reaction to Y/N being found, “Slow down there, big fella. She’s fine. She told me to do some not so nice things to myself, and possibly Sam, and then she told me to tell you hello. They are on their way back now.” Cas sighed in relief, “This is good, it means I do not have to go inside and pretend to be a stripper.”

“Whoa-oh-oh, that is not what that means,” Dean said as he shook his head, “I said Y/N was coming back with Sam, but we still haven’t destroyed the talisman yet. Apparently ol’ Xochipilli has a few tricks up his sleeve. Y/N and Sam just had to kill some statue he brought to life. They don’t know if there are any more, but if I were a gambling man I’d put my money on there being more. We’re winging it at this point, but I’d say if we take out the god, we also take out the statues he brought to life.” Dean nodded toward the bathroom and wiggled his eyebrows, “Time to suit up, champ.”

Cas sighed, “Is this really necessary? Are we sure I cannot just use my angel powers to take care of it?”

Dean shook his head, “Too many witnesses. This will be much better, I promise. Now, go on in there and change your clothes. It’s time to head over and get signed up.”

Cas begrudgingly got up and slowly walked to the bathroom. Dean waved over the waitress, “Do you have any more of that cherry pie?” He asked with a smile, and winked when the waitress blushed. She walked away and he sighed happily to himself; tonight was turning out to be a pretty good evening. Someone cleared their throat and he looked up to see Cas standing in front of him, still in his long trench coat. “Did you actually change clothes?”

Cas nodded, “It’s...um...it’s all I have on under this coat.” Dean glanced down and noticed the bundle of clothes Cas was holding in his hand.

“Oh...okay...so that’s...alright. How ‘bout we head out of here then, it’s a little...I bet it’s drafty.” Dean bit back his laughter as he walked over to the counter, “I’m going to need to take that cherry pie to go.”

Outside Poppin’ Pacoani

“Dean, I do not think I can do this. You said that you and Sam would have this wrapped up before I would need to be on stage, and you do not even know where this god is. I cannot go on that stage.”

Dean patted Cas on the back, “Of course you can. You’ve got the outfit, you’ve got the name, you’ve got the song. You’ve researched all the moves that you will need, you’ll be fine. Sam should be here soon, and I’ll probably already have it taken care of by then. Let’s go inside, get you signed up, and see what we see.”

“I thought you were banned for life, how are you going to get inside without getting caught?”

Dean slipped on the glasses he used while hunting hellhounds and a baseball cap, “It’s called a disguise, Cas. See?”

Cas shook his head, “I can still see that it is you. I do not see what you are disguising.”

“It doesn’t matter, come on.” Dean pulled the door open and ushered Cas inside. It was dimly lit as they walked over to the counter, “Is this where my friend here can sign up for amateur night?”

The woman behind the counter shoved a piece of paper at him and nodded without looking up from her magazine, “We need your stage name, what song you’ll be usin’, and your real name in the event that you win any prizes. Do you have your own costume, or do you need one of ours?”

Dean grabbed the paper and began scribbling down the information she’d asked for, “No, we’re good, he has his own.”

“Great. You’ll need to head through the main doors, then make a left and go up a couple of steps, go down that hallway, and make a right. They’ll tell you what to do from there.”

“Thanks. Come on, buddy.” They began walking towards the staging area when a large hand settled on Cas’s arm and stopped him mid stride.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Dean turned to face the source of the voice and had to look up. The man was easily a foot taller than him with dark hair that was swept up into a bundle at the base of his neck. Tattoos wound up and down his arms, the geometric patterns almost mesmerizing, and his dark brown, almost black, eyes looked like deep pits.

Dean’s eyes traveled down and rested on the tear shaped pendant that he was wearing, “That’s a nice necklace.”

The man gave a passing look at Dean, then focused back on Cas, “Don’t tell me you’re here for amateur night?” Cas nodded and looked at Dean, clearly confused. “Mmmm, good. You look like you’ll fit right in.” He pulled Cas from Dean and began to walk away with him while they talked, “It’s hard to believe that you’re an amateur...are you sure you haven’t had experience with this kind of thing before?” Cas shook his head and looked back over his shoulder at Dean as if asking what he should do. Dean just shrugged and slowly began moving in the direction Xochipilli was taking Cas.

Just as they turned the corner, Dean’s phone rang, “Hello?”

“Dean, we’re outside of the club. What’s going on?”

“Well, our friend Xochipilli has taken Cas to where the other strippers get ready to go on stage. He’s huge, Sam. I’m talking ‘you look small next to him’ huge. It’s definitely him though, I saw the pendant, I just didn’t get a chance to grab it. I followed them, but the entrance where he took Cas has a bouncer, and I don’t think my disguise is as good as I let Cas believe. He seemed pretty interested though, so I’m going to assume he’s going to come back out to watch Cas dance.” Dean heard Y/N start giggling uncontrollably in the background, “Had you not told her yet?”

“No, but she seems to think that it’s a good idea. Actually, we’re heading in now. Hopefully it’s dark enough in there that they don’t recognize me...or her. You know what, I don’t think we thought this through very well.”

“Story of our lives, Sam. Just get in here.” Dean looked around the room and found a table in the darkest corner that also had the best vantage point. He nonchalantly walked over and sat down with his back towards the wall so that he could see everything and not have anything sneak up on him. A moment later Sam and Y/N arrived, both of them looking a little worse for wear. Y/N sat down next to Dean, and he reached over to pluck cornsilk out of her hair. Dean looked at Sam and laughed, “Where the hell did you get that cowboy hat?”

Sam glared at him, “Shut up. It’s the only thing I could find in the trunk of the car I stole, and I’m not excited that I had to put some stranger's hat on. It’s gross.”

Sam looked around the club poutily and Dean turned his attention back to Y/N, “How are you feeling? Seems like you had quite the adventure the past couple of days.”

She rolled her eyes, “If you want to call it an adventure. I’d like to call it the bad ‘shroom trip I’m going to forget ever happened’.” Dean looked at her quietly for a moment, and finally she broke the silence, “What?”

“Where’d you learn to dance like that?”

Y/N laughed, “After all this, and what we still have to do, and your main concern is where I learned how to pole dance?”

Dean shrugged, “I mean, it’s a valid question. Also, tattoos? Do I even know you, Y/N?”

Y/N winked, “Not as well as you’d like to, Winchester.” Her eyes widened when she saw a large figure looming toward the front fire exit, “There he is.”

Dean nodded, “Sam...we need to move.”

Both brothers took off and left Y/N to watch as they flanked the large, ancient god. Y/N thought a god would know when two humans were about to move in, but between their stealth and the fact that his attention was on the blue-eyed angel that was nervously peeking through the side curtain, he didn't stand a chance. Sam grabbed him and pulled him through the fire exit and Dean slipped through after them, the door shutting with a quiet click that you'd have to be paying attention to to even notice.

Five minutes went by, then ten. Amateur dancers began traipsing across the stage, one right after the other, although Y/N wasn’t paying much attention to them. Her eyes were on the curtains to the far left where she would occasionally glimpse a shock of dark brown hair and bright blue eyes looking to see if the Winchesters were going to save him from certain fate.

Y/N jumped when Sam threw himself down in the chair next to her, breathing heavily, but otherwise okay. Dean slid into the seat on the other side of her, the tiniest bit of blood spatter on his neck giving away what he’d been up to just moments before. She motioned to Dean’s neck, “You’ve got a little...Aztec god...on your neck. Just there.”

Dean absent-mindedly wiped it away as he watched the stage, “Is Cas up yet?”

Y/N looked at him, her eyebrow raised, “I thought you were supposed to stop him if you took care of it fast enough?” Sam and Dean looked at each other, their eyes sparkling with suppressed glee, and Y/N rolled her eyes, “You guys are the literal worst. You promised him-” She was interrupted by the announcer.

“Ladies, gentlemen too if you’re into this kind of thing, we have a special treat for you tonight. All the way here from Dusseldorf, Germany, a blue eyed devil you have to see to believe, welcome to the stage Felix von Weinerschnitzel!” The curtain was thrown open, and Cas awkwardly walked onto the stage, his eyes narrowed in the glare of the spotlight.

He was still wearing his trenchcoat, and Sam elbowed Dean, “Dude, why is he still in his trenchcoat?”

Dean’s eyes were squeezed shut as he laughed silently to himself, and all he could do was shake his head at Sam. “Just wait,” he managed to wheeze out.

Y/N glared at Sam and Dean, “You two are just awful. That’s your friend up there, and you could have easily stopped this from happening…” Y/N trailed off as the beginning notes of Cas’s song began to play. Y/N looked at Dean with wide eyes, “You didn't.” All Dean was able to do was nod as he bent over, his arm on his knee, and wipe tears from his eye.

As the guitar moved into its opening riff, Cas began to sway back and forth as he unbuttoned his trench coat to the beat, and Y/N’s jaw dropped as the coat fell away to reveal what was, without a doubt, the skimpiest pair of lederhosen she had ever seen.

I believe in miracles Where you from You sexy thing, sexy thing you

Since you came along

You sexy thing

Sam was doubled over laughing, and Dean had finally caught his breath and was watching Cas with a proud smile. Y/N, without looking at either Winchester, muttered, “Cas is freakin’ ripped.” Dean was thrown into another round of hysterics, but Y/N couldn’t stop watching as Cas slowly pulled off his trenchcoat and threw it to the side.

Where did you come from, baby?

How did you know I needed you?

He moved to the pole and gripped it tightly, slowly spinning around while keeping his eyes on the crowd. He dropped suddenly, rolling his body back up slowly, and the crowd cheered.

How did you know I needed you so badly?

How did you know I’d give my heart so gladly?

Yesterday I was one of the lonely people

Now you’re lying close to me, making love to me

Y/N felt a blush creep across her cheeks as Cas looked into the crowd and caught her eye. Despite having kept a straight face the entire time, the moment their eyes locked Cas smiled slightly, and Y/N realized that she’d held her breath the entire time he’d been dancing around the pole.

“He just dropped it like it was hot,” Dean snorted, and Sam howled with laughter.

Y/N gave Dean a stern look, “Did you choose this song on purpose?”

Dean smiled and shook his head, “I just thought it would be funny, someone singing about miracles while a literal angel was stripping...but it does seem to hit a little close to home, doesn’t it?”

Y/N crossed her arms, “Shut up.” Her eyes shifted back to watch Cas, who had lifted himself up on the pole and, with one leg wrapped around it as he held on with one hand, spun slowly back to the ground.

Where did you come from, angel?

How did you know I’d be the one?

Did you know you’re everything I prayed for?

Cas stood with his back against the pole, and his hands grasped above his head as his hips swayed back and forth. He met Y/N’s eyes again as he slowly slid down the pole and then rolled back up.

Did you know, every night and day for?

Every day, needing love and satisfaction

Now you’re lying next to me, giving it to me

The music faded, and Cas paused awkwardly for a moment, then took a bow as the crowd stood and cheered. He waved, gathered up his trench coat, and hurried off the stage. Sam and Dean had both stood and were clapping, but Y/N remained seated, her heart racing as she realized what she had just seen and heard.

Dean looked over at her and grinned, “You okay?”

Y/N looked up slowly, “Did he understand that song? Or did you just pick it out for him?”

Dean shrugged, “I was under the assumption that he knew what he was doing. He’s an angel, not a newborn.” Dean’s phone went off, and he pulled it out of his pocket. “Come on, our little Elizabeth Berkley is outside waiting for us.”

Sam laughed, “I wonder if he’s as excited and scared as she was.”

Y/N rolled her eyes as she pushed her chair in and followed Sam and Dean outside, “Enough with the Saved by the Bell references. Dumb asses.” Y/N slowed down as she approached Cas, who was now back in his regular suit and trench coat, “Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Y/N.”

Sam coughed and nudged Dean, and the two wandered towards the Impala, leaving Y/N and Cas alone.

“Thank you for...umm...for doing that. I know that was probably the last thing you wanted to do so...thanks.”

“You do not need to thank me, Y/N. I would...well, I would do anything to help you. Although I must be honest, I really wish Sam and Dean had been able to stop Xochipilli before I got on stage.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, “Cas...they did. They were sitting with me the whole time.” Cas looked over at the brothers, who were leaning against the Impala and pretending not to stare at them, and sighed.

“That is not amusing in the slightest.”

Y/N laughed, “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think you did an amazing job.” Cas looked at her and smiled slightly. “Also, I have to ask...did you pick that song on purpose?”

“Dean technically picked it out, but I may have thought it was a fitting choice.”

Y/N moved closer and straightened Cas’s tie, “You think I’m a sexy thing?”

Cas had looked down at where her hands were fidgeting with his tie, and then looked up at her through his thick lashes, “I think you are a beautiful woman, if that is what you are asking.”

Y/N crooked her finger under his chin and brought his eyes level with hers, “Well...you’re everything I’ve ever prayed for...Felix von Weinerschnitzel.” She leaned in and kissed him softly, and Cas pulled her closer, his hands buried in her hair. When they finally pulled away from each other, Cas rested his forehead gently against Y/N’s, and she smiled, “I do believe in miracles.”

Cas chuckled, “Well, I am an Angel of the Lord so it is only fitting.”

1 Month Later…

The bunker door slammed shut and Sam quickly descended the stairs, flipping through mail as he went.

“Dean, one of your magazines came in!”

“I’m in the library!”

Sam walked into the library and threw the magazine down on the table Dean was sitting at, then went back to sorting mail, pausing in confusion at one of the labels, “What the hell….Castiel Winchester?”

Dean’s eyes widened, and he grabbed the envelope from Sam. “What is that?” Dean ripped open the envelope and cheered, “He won! He freakin’ won!”

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean, “First of all, opening someone else’s mail is a felony. Second, who won what? Cas?”

Dean grinned, “When we had that case in Nebraska, I signed in Cas. It asked for an address, because if you win amateur night you win $300. I put our PO box down.” Dean waved the check around, “Where is Clarence, anyway?”

Sam shrugged and sat down to open his mail, “Somewhere with Y/N probably, why?”

“No reason,” Dean smiled, “but maybe we should have him do stuff like that more often.”

Forever Tags: @trexrambling @pinknerdpanda @wheresthekillswitch @emilywritesaboutdean @arryn-nyxx @emptywithout @escabell @charliebradbury1104 @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @deanssweetheart23 @canadianjelly @super-not-naturall @aubreyreadsstuff @dean-winchesters-baby @melissaj616 @fandomismyspiritanimal @keepcalmandcarryondean @assbutt-still-in-hell @owllover123 @rosie-winchester @amionthetumbler @duubaduu @hiimaprofessionalfangirl @goldenolaf25 @authoressskr

I Believe in Miracles: @thedevilinthedetails @eringva @night-thinker-23 @curlyblondexoxo @deaths-damn-fruit-basket @bleachfanficfanatic

#Supernatural fanfiction #castiel #cas x reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #i believe in miracles #crack fic

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chris-evans-imagine · 7 years

Text

Wanna get dirty? {Part I}

A/N: I dreamt this. God. Listen Earned it while reading it.

Warnings: swearing, Evans twins, strip club. Not smut... yet.

-----

The short red dress rose to my thigh. I wasn’t dressed for this. Andy, my friend, told me to get ready for a GNO. I was surprised when the neon lights of the club’s ad enlighten me. It read as QUEENS. Andy held me closer, knowing that my first instinct was to run away. She dragged me into the club. Correction. Into the stripper club.

The slow and seductive song played. The man was dressed as a cowboy. He was wearing boots and jeans. Really tight jeans that showed up his strong and sharped legs. The darkness of his leather vest contrasted with his tan skin. His torso and arms were covered with a coat. Around his neck, he had a neckerchief. And that cowboy hat that hid his face. He was tall, strong… a stripper.

I had never, ever seen a man moving like he did, not even during sex. Those hips were like a different person from him. There was a different move every beat, every lyrics, every breath. He started to take his clothes off. Began with the coat. The biggest and muscled arms showed and every girl, including Andy, went nuts. His hands traveled all over his torso, he unbutton his vest and showed the silky and the near hairless chest.

He initiated his journey around the room. The women in there, wanted to reach, to fondle the halo sexuality and lust that the man spread in each step. I was speechless. He went back to the stage, followed by a light, and started to unbutton his jeans. He was going to take that off too. Dear Lord. When it disappear, he was only wearing the boots, neckerchief, awesomely tight boxers and the hat.

By this moment, I had seen his face. He had the most shocking and seductive deep blue eyes. There was a shadow of his beard that made him look really evil, although the angelic features of his face, his nose and his rosy lips. He went to the other side of the audience and started to make some moves over the women laps’. The ladies put dollars in the elastic of his boxers.

The spotlight followed him. The song was in its climax. And so did I. I was enjoying the show and not in the dirty way, I think. I was focused on the desperate human beings in the club, which filled each inch with its nature needs. Being touched, being fucked… it turned into a jungle with only a macho alfa, I smirked lost in my thoughts, when I felt the light on me. The stripper started to move his hips over my lap, he was between my legs. Grabbed my hands and made the wander through his chest. Holy shit. I felt my heart racing. He winked at me and saluted me using his hat, and walked away.

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.

After that night I poured myself into my beloved, killer, not-healthy and dense routine. Some nights I woke up covered in sweat by the impure dreams. At the beginning I tried to ignore it, but it was more constant. I looked at the blank canvas and started to draw. Each night I added something, the smirk of his tempting and fleshy lips. Other night I worked on the knuckles, and the tip of his hands that touched his hat and the snood of his jeans. As a painter, I was very self-demanding with my work. But when I finished that painting. I… was speechless.

Andy convinced me to participate in an amateur galleria. It seemed easy, I had to bring my piece and they had to approve it. It took me too long to pick my piece, I knew the one I wanted to show. But I didn’t think it was appropriate. I grabbed another and made my way to the galleria. I was supposed to meet with Robert Evans. The place was amazing. I couldn’t believe that there was a chance that I could actually hang my painting there. The secretary gave me directions and I sat waiting for Mr. Evans. I heard the door opening and I stood up. I felt my blood cold, my eyes wide opened and the thick oxygen.

“Good afternoon, miss…”. I reached his hand and cleared my throat.

“y/l/n, y/n y/l/n.” the dude, the stripper was him. Like… why in the fucking world he needed that job? Was it a hobby?

“Of course, Andy sent me the picture of your painting, I’d really like to see it” I showed him the painting and he smiled. “This isn’t the one that she sent”

“Sorry?” I closed my eyes in the moment I realized which picture she had sent.

“This exhibit is about people. And I’d like to see the sad cowboy you painted, y/n. it looks really… familiar to me.”

“Hum… I don’t get it.” I insisted. He put his hands together in front of me.

“Excuse me?” I laughed sarcastically, couldn’t hide the way I was handling the situation.

“Ok, so you have like a double life? Are you like Batman or something? Do you spend the day in these four walls wearing a suit and by night you rip your clothes and dance like a… cowboy stripper?” I grabbed my painting and made my way to the exit.

“You know? Since we’re not going to work together, I’d like to buy you a coffee, just to make it up. Come on” I didn’t have a saying, he dragged me out of the office and we were on our way in the street. The wind played with my hair and with the length of my dress. What else could go wrong?

“Are we going to walk?” I asked. He just nodded. “Where are we going?” I insisted. I mean, if I was going to be kidnapped I’d like to know.

“To my place. Actually, we’re here” he stood in front of the building. I looked at him offended.

“I’m not going to…” He arched his eyebrow, knowing the way I was going to finish that sentence. He laughed again.

“How old are you?” I didn’t know if that was a rhetorical question or I had to actually answer. Stupidly, I followed him to the building. It was way nicer and expensive than mine. The combination of black and white made it look extraordinary luxurious. It was a downtown apartment, he ran a galleria, he could afore it.

We got in the elevator and I started to make noises with my tiptoes. He laughed.

“You’re nervous, I’m not going to do anything. Unless you want me to” I made a face that was probably really funny, because he laughed, right into my face. I sighed. We went out and walked to the apartment.

“Do you live alone?” I asked he denied with his head. Of course. His cowboy alter ego. “Anyway, I’ll wait for you here” it was the least I could do. I had already followed him, I needed to show a little bit of self-respect.

“As you wish. Although…” there was something else in his mind besides his arrogance and appeal. “No, I’ll be right back” he introduced himself in the apartment and left the door wide open. I lost him from my view when he turned left. I sighed. What the fuck was I doing? Lately I was playing to reach the stupidest thing. I might have score with this one. He didn’t force me to come. I followed him. I went after the Greek God bone structure. Though, I had to admit. It wasn’t like the first time we met. There wasn’t the sexual halo. Just the boss and business man mode on.

“Hello” a voice took me back to my thought. I rose my sight to find a Robert Evans next to me. he had changed his clothes. Now, he was wearing lose jeans and a white Henley.

“Shall we?” I sighed and made my way back to the elevator. And then, I realized I didn’t know the way back. I turned back, to spot four blue eyes looking at me.

“I think you have company, brother” my jaw was on the floor. There was Robert and also… the cowboy?

My mind should’ve gone to “double trouble”, instead went to “double pleasure”, what was wrong with me? I had always been proud of not being one of those corny and romantic girls that had a whole fairytale in her mind. Indeed, I wasn’t thinking about a fairytale. It was all the opposite.

“Yes… he HAD company. I was just leaving. I have a lot of things to do. Nice to meet you” I waved and walked away. I heard the manly voices at my back and I started to walk faster. I looked back, when I felt something hitting my stomach. The last thing I remember is hitting the ground. And four legs running towards me.

---

TAG SQUAD: @macca-mcsexy @always-an-evans-addict

#chris evans smut #chris evans fanfic #chris evans sex #Chris Evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans dirty imagine #chris evans fic #chris evans serie #chris evans x you

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squaredancing-weston · 7 years

Text

para || Brobastian: Another Shot, 12/25/2016

Tagging: @sebadasssmythe and @squaredancing-weston

Time: Sunday evening, 25 December 2016

Setting: JAX Tavern, Forrest, OH

Summary: When Brody invites Sebastian to be his ringer at the Christmas Pub Trivia game with a first prize of a free tab for the night, of course he says yes. And of course they make a mockery of the competition. What’s left but to drink to themselves?

Part 2

Note: Kind of jumbled because we started out just headcanon-ing and then got more detailed...

Brody rolled his eyes. "Narcissistic, big-headed, semi-demonic...yeah, I guess I was a little too kind," he couldn't help but retort. "Yeah, that sounds like your method of thinking," the older man responded. "Always my fault." Oh, damn, that sounded like a really...confusing offer. Wait, what? Brody kept his expression calm, but internally his drunk and befuddled mind was now clinging to Sebastian corrupting him and how else could Bas possibly do that unless they ended up in bed together again? "Seriously Bas-- I lived on a ranch for years. I almost worked a farm for a living instead of herding teenagers. You don't think I would know what was sexy and what wasn't about outdoor gear? It's an illusion." Except, arguably, if it got him into bed again, Brody would totally reconsider his stance on chaps. "Hey, I know exactly what it was-- I'm just pointing out that you're selling yourself a bit short for assuming it was anything less. Although I will admit that you have a talent for giving back to the community." He barked out a laugh at his own joke, raising his shot glass in a toast before throwing it back and signaling for another. "What-- here, or in a house? Because obviously things change up a bit depending on what we're talking about. I mean, for instance, I don't have any hanging racks that can hold you up in my place, versus in the back room..." Arguably, Brody knew from experience that having a round back there would cost a few bills for the bartender to turn a blind eye, but he could think of worse things to spend his money on-- especially since he wasn't paying for his drinks. "On the other hand, there's not a shower or a hammock chair/pseudo sex swing here." The sex swing had been a stretch, but Brody was trying to play to his strengths, and with the cold weather, he had brought the thing inside and shoved in the corner, which did look oddly suggestive every time he looked at it. Brody huffed, "You know, first off-- that was stupid. Second, I did manage to get past it just fine, thank you. And C) it's all of your furniture, Bas. Literally, the only thing that felt like it actually belonged in a house was the mattress. Where the hell do you shop? An art gallery?" Brody didn't want to screw over Bas, or Vanessa to be fair. He liked both of them. And, he justified to himself, he wasn't really taking Bas away from Vanessa...he was just detouring his route for a little bit. "Hey, you may be charming and mysterious, Sebastian Smythe, but I am trustworthy and a good guy. Why would I lie to a friend?" He arched an eyebrow deviously, wondering if Bas would call his bluff. Apparently not, or not immediately, because Brody had the other man's interest. Brody tried to think of something he was sure he could win completely uncertain of Bas' skill level in bar games. He could think of one option, but it was generally one he didn't like to use. Brody wasn't a fan of revealing personal information himself, under most circumstances, but... "5 shots. Never Have I Ever. I lose, I talk you up to Vanessa and any other person you see worth fucking in this place. I win...I'll still talk you up to her, but you owe //me// a more personal show of appreciation before you take her up on it." He arched his eyebrows suggestively, his chest pounding hard as he waited for the other's answer on how flexible those rules were...

“A little too vague, more like,” Sebastian countered. “And, yeah, well – for once, I wasn’t the cause of this mess.” Honestly, he was pretty sure Brody was just in denial at this point where the whole Blaine deal was concerned. His suggestion of corrupting Brody didn’t quite get the reaction that Sebastian had been hoping for, but he found himself wondering if that was just because Brody was forcing himself not to react. Which was just as good as a reaction in itself, really. “Yeah, but what’s sexy to me might not be sexy to you, Brodes. I didn’t say /I/ wanted to model the stuff for /you/.” Seriously, this was starting to become a problem. He was pretty sure that he talked about the older man in chaps just as much as Brody talked about Sebastian’s ass. “I never sell myself short,” Sebastian replied with a scoff. “I know I rocked your world, don’t worry. My confidence in my skills is perfectly fine.” He shook his head, but it was accompanied by an amused chuckle. How much had Brody had to drink? Not that he was feeling entirely sober himself, but still. He raised his eyebrows as Brody listed off several… tempting options. Fuck. “Wait— you use a hammock as a sex swing?” Shit, that was… yeah. Something he wanted to try. Something that sounded ridiculously risky, and Sebastian couldn’t help but think that it was no wonder that Brody often found himself with an endless list of sex-related injuries. “Admittedly, my headboard leaves something to be desired – but it’s not like it’s something I thought about while picking out my furniture.” Not that he’d put a lot of thought into his furniture, anyway, but it looked good regardless. He hummed doubtfully. “What kind of good guy deliberately ruins my chances. Maybe I should go over there myself after all,” he suggested. He waited for Brody to decide on his wager, tapping his fingers against his glass. His lips spread into a devious grin when Brody made his suggestion. Really it sounded like Brody deliberately chose a game that Sebastian would lose, but for once in his life, this really was a bet that Sebastian really wouldn’t mind losing. Really, he had more to gain by losing than winning, when you thought about it. “Fine, Brodes. You’re on.”

"Well, consider this me amending my mistake," Brody retorted. He raised a hand to argue that, since he brought up the whole meerkat thing in the beginning, arguably the whole aftermath was his fault, but there was no way he'd actually convince Bas of that, and he was kind of preoccupied with other ideas to really want to be deterred by that whole furry discussion again. "Alright, so say I go ahead and drag you out to a field exhibition, I set up shop in my gear-- boots, hat, jacket, full-legged chaps...whole nine yards. And then, you know...drag out the whole day so that you've got no choice but to just watch me wander around like that, with no respite..." Now it was actually sounding kind of hot, truthfully. "You're saying that's something you'd be into? As opposed to the weird black leather crap strippers wear?"

"And yet you feel like it was enough of a letdown that you have to bolster my ego?" Brody countered. "I think one of us is confused on how that night went down, and pretty sure it wasn't me." Well, that got Bas' attention. Brody's lips twitched in triumph as his stretch paid off. "Seriously Bas? There are two reasons to buy furniture-- it's either comfortable or a good sex surface. Preferably both, let's be honest. And that thing has to come inside during the winter, so I might as well make good use out of it, right?" He angled his head curiously at Bas, goading him into thoughts Brody himself had been entertaining for what seemed like ages by now. "Seriously? Then what the hell //do// you think about when you buy furniture?" Brody just didn't get why you'd just want crap that looked...what? Expensive? Brody barked out a laugh. "One that cares about the morning after for his friend?" he retorted with a smirk. Although he didn't figure Vanessa as the clingy type-- well, she was, but not like she'd call Bas incessantly or throw things at him if he tried to sneak out. Hers was more of an in-the-moment cling. Literally, sometimes. "Scared of what a few choice words can do, Bas?" he goaded. Brody's heart felt like it would just about explode out of his chest when it realized he was getting his chance. He really wanted Bas back around him-- in a lot of different ways, for a lot of different times, but he'd just take one if that's all he could get. He just needed a quick fix, since he was going without all night, he told himself. Brody gestured to the bartender for ten shots to line the bar, and drew the first close to him, using his index finger to start tracing a line across the rim. "Alright then. Never have I ever...had sex with someone more than ten years my senior." He knew Bas had been in a problem child, especially in his youth-- he had to have had a cougar at least once.

God, Brody just had to go ahead and make him visualise it, didn’t he? He tried his best not to be too telling as he pictured Brody in the outfit he described, but he was pretty sure his pupils were way too blown – and, honestly, since when did Sebastian develop such a cowboy kink? His pants were way too tight as it was, and he shuffled in attempt to ease the pressure. “You really think I’d prefer the fake stuff over the real deal?” he asked, his voice taking a slightly gravelly stance that he couldn’t really help. Shit, he really needed to get some relief – and he was pretty sure he’d be thinking about Brody in his gear regardless. He rolled his eyes. “You have such a terrible habit of putting words in my mouth.” The only thing that was a letdown about that night was that it ended, and it left Sebastian wanting more. “I dunno, Brodes, you sound pretty confused on the matter.” And holy shit, Brody definitely knew how to reel him in. “I mean, I can definitely see the benefits of having a good sex surface around if bringing people back to your place is something you regularly do,” he conceded with a shrug – but really, his mind was just trying to work out ways that they could put Brody’s hammock to good use. He shrugged. “It looks good, so I go with it?” “If your friend is smart, she’ll understand what a night with me and the morning after would mean,” Sebastian retorted, and he rolled his eyes in exasperation. “I’m not worried. Have you /seen/ me? I’m irresistible – as you’re perfectly aware.” Despite the fact that Brody had managed to resist him for so long, but that was beside the point entirely. Oh, Brody was /definitely/ trying to get him to lose – and Sebastian huffed, taking the first shot and downing it within a matter of seconds – because, yeah. He’d went through an older man stage – particularly in his early 20’s. He let out a breath as the burn rose on the back of his throat, trying to think of a counter. “My turn,” he said. He didn’t want to make it look like he was /willing/ to lose, so he had to be smart, here – go for plausible options, and definitely not fake out on his first go. “Never have I ever had sex in a barn.” That was reasonable, right? It sounded like something Brody might have done.

Brody shook his head with a grin, "Well, when you put it that way..." He shrugged, "Really though, you just seem like an appearance over function kind of guy, which leans more toward the painted-on, exhibition black leather, rather than the layered, organic, working type." Brody fiddled with his empty glass-- truthfully this conversation was kind of turning him on regardless, and he wished it would go somewhere else. "Yeah, I have a pretty good recollection of what went in your mouth-- words weren't something I put there." Brody must be pretty far gone, because that was a bad innuendo, but he couldn't pass it up. Which meant now his dick was starting to twitch in excitement at the visual that accompanied Brody's words, because Bas' eyes staring up at him while he sucked down Brody's cock... holy fuck. "Well, to be fair, I don't have the same compunctions with people coming back to my place because I don't screw crazy people," Brody pointed out. "So why not make good use out of your surroundings, right?" He scoffed. "I think if there was ever a lesson for looks can be deceiving, it would be your furniture, Bas." Brody shrugged his shoulders noncommittally-- he knew Vanessa was smart, and Sebastian was hot, but he still didn't like the situation. "I don't know-- the right phrasing and all the looks in the world may not save you," he pointed out. Bas obviously wasn't used to not getting what he wanted, but Brody was fairly confident that he could swing the hammer if he wanted to. Not that he did-- if he wanted to fuck Vanessa tonight, good for him, right? It wasn't any of Brody's business anyways. Brody watched him reach for the Jack, smirking in triumph as he knocked the drink back. It was interesting, but even though Brody wanted to win, he also had a nag in his head about the potential information he could glean from the other man playing this game. I mean, he was definitely going to win, right? So why not find out a little extra information as well. And then Bas fired back, and Brody couldn't help but laugh, even though he was irritated. Because, yeah-- he'd definitely managed that one more than once. Considering how opposed to having sex in his parents' house he'd been growing up, his truck and the barn were pretty much staples for his sex life. So raising in toast, he threw back one of his own, placing the empty shot in front of him. "Never have I ever..." A part of him wanted to go for the easy hits-- to win. But he also wanted to actually play the game-- to learn something. Bas was about as inclined to share as Brody himself, and he couldn't help but be curious about the man who was similar and yet so different than himself, "...had sex in my father's office," he countered, eyebrow raised. That was a more risky move, since Brody, even knowing Bas and his parents had a contentious relationship, had no idea how respectful of the man Bas had been back when they'd been on speaking terms. But it was kind of hot to think about, so Brody decided to go for it anyways.

“Here’s thing, though – chaps look good on their own. Why would I want some fake tacky plastic crap?” He grinned in return. “I mean, just because there’s less of it, doesn’t mean it’s hotter, right?” Not that he was altogether against that kind of thing, but fuck, the thought of Brody all geared up just did something to him that he couldn’t even explain. How the older man managed to have such an effect on him even after they’d slept together, he’ll never know. “No, my mouth was pretty full,” he admitted with a smirk. “That, I didn’t mind so much.” More like it was so hot that he was still thinking about it over a month later, but he didn’t need to get too specific there, right? Because, shit, the way that Brody took control during sex, telling him what to do… it was something that made his cock strain in his pants every time he thought about it. He hummed, conceding with a nod. “You have a point, there. Hey, if you trust people enough to take them back to your place, more power to you.” He’d slept with exactly two people at his own place, and neither were people he’d just met that night. Fuck that. “Hey, we seemed to manage to get good use out of my furniture, as far as my recollection goes.” He almost wanted to prove Brody wrong. /Almost/. As much as Brody could try his best, Sebastian could be pretty damn charming, after all. Then again, the older man might have the advantage as far as having built up some apparent level of trust with the woman, so he wasn’t 100% sure if he actually /could/ win this one. Strangely, it didn’t bother him as much as it usually would. Sebastian chuckled as Brody knocked back his drink, flashing a grin at him. Although he kind of had to play this carefully. As much as he wanted to find stuff out about Brody, he didn’t actually want to /win/ this one. Well, he wanted to win – just, something different entirely. Then again, it wasn’t like he couldn’t just forget about Vanessa and go home with Brody regardless, but that’d mean admitting that the other had made such a strong impression on him that he was willing to break his own rules… again. Brody asked the next question, and he only just managed not to wince, shaking his head. His father had actually been pretty terrifying – and his office had been kept locked when he wasn’t holed up in it. Not that it was exactly an open door policy when he was. He moulded his lips into a cocky smirk. “Careful, Brodes. Gotta step up your game.” He licked his lips in thought, trying to think of something that Brody /might/ not have done, and then it came to him. “Never have I ever fucked someone while wearing chaps.” And with that particular image in his head, Sebastian swallowed around the thirst in his suddenly dry throat.

Brody barked out a laugh: he wasn't sure how this conversation had become oddly flattering, but at some point it had seemed to shift that way. As ridiculous as the thought was while sober, right now it was like Sebastian was specifically turned on by Brody's lifestyle, and not just the vague fetish of chaps and the cowboy look. He must be more drunk than he thought. "Well, if you're so certain on that one, I may have to pull you out on a trip come spring," he replied. "Hell, once I went to a circuit that one bracket of competitors went to a strip club afterwards that was specifically themed for the event, so arguably if you plan it right you can get both. Compare and contrast, right?" He laughed in amusement: he'd been too young to join Bob on that trip, but his older brother had always made a good story out of it, and it was practically stamped into Brody's mind."And it looked damn good that way," the older man added, more than half honest and/or hard by the image of Bas beneath him-- his fingers tingling at the memory of being fisting his hair and just-- and breathe, Brody, he reminded himself. You're at a bar, not a motel. "Definitely won't say it bothered me at all." He smiled at Bas' comment, but allowed for his own concession. "I mean, arguably, you're not wrong yourself," he admitted. "I mean, different approaches. If you cycle, you aren't necessarily inviting strangers into your bed. But if you tap something new every night, you only have a matter of hours max to figure out what you're getting. I don't blame you for your technique. Just your furniture choices." He laughed, bobbing his head side to side. "We made do. And nothing broke-- I suppose we can call it a moderate success. Although I'll admit: that fucking mattress..." he trailed off, his hand curling in a gesture. "That was a really nice mattress, I will give you that. If I was going to blow my salary on something, that would definitely be worth the investment. Fuck, I'd get two-- one for sleeping, one for fucking." The headboard may have been ridiculous, and the furniture useless, but Sebastian's memory foam had definitely made an impression on the man.Brody studied Bas intently as he paused, but let out a disappointed groan and knocked his fist on the bar top when the other man finally shook his head. "Damn it, seriously?" He snapped his fingers-- apparently Sebastian's father held a little more clout with his son than Brody'd thought. His blue eyes narrowed, lip twitching at the challenge, "You ever hear that saying about messing with a bull, Bas?" he retorted with a smirk. "I know you've got more skeletons than I do." Well, that was debatable, but Brody was hoping like hell he could dig up more of Bas' in five rounds than the other. He really wanted to feel Sebastian around his fucking cock... Sebastian's next move actually had Brody pausing to think. Had he ever had sex in chaps? He took a hold of the full shot, tilting the liquid back and forth against the glass as he tried to think. He'd certainly messed around on the circuit, but chaps were constrictive, and when he was a teen, he hadn't been //that// quick about his excursions. Most any fooling around had taken place long after he'd gotten out of his gear. Which, he thought as he bit his lip, left the second half of college... "Nope...no //fucking//," he finally decided, replacing the glass on the counter. "I mean, not to get too technical, but as far as chaps remaining on, there wasn't penetration, or an orgasm involved-- at least on my end-- so I'm going to stick with no." Sebastian certainly wasn't the only person Brody had encountered with a thing for guys in gear. Of course, now he had to think up his own move, fingers dragging against the inside of his empty shot glass before sucking the tip in consideration. "Never Have I Ever...been arrested for anything I was doing while hooking up: public indecency, underage drinking, exploitation of a judge..." he elaborated, flashing a grin at the added example at the end. If Sebastian had ever fucked a judge, though, Brody wasn't sure if he'd be impressed or kind of weirded out though, to be honest. Obviously not enough to forego fucking the guy, but maybe a little judgmental nonetheless.

Sebastian's lips twitched at Brody's answer - which, yeah. "I just might take you up on that, Brodes. As long as you're modelling." He highly doubted that the strippers would hold a candle to Brody in chaps, but he was hardly going to say no to that offer, either. "Are you saying we should go to a strip club /for science/? Not that I'm against that idea, I'm just admiring your ability to justify it." Why the hell the opportunity to see Brody in chaps was more tempting to him than 'strip club', he had no idea. "Naturally," he agreed with a grin. "Watching you falling apart because of it wasn't exactly a bad sight, either." That, and the fact that Brody was so damn demanding in bed - he can't seem to get it out of his goddamn mind. God, he'd gladly just let Brody use his throat whenever the fuck he wanted at this rate. He shrugged. "I'm good at reading people, but, loathe as I am to admit it, even I have my limits." He scoffed, bumping Brody's shoulder with his own. "We did better than make do. But at least we agree on the mattress. If you need help breaking the sex one in, you know where I am," he quipped with a wink. The rest of his furniture, admittedly, was more about appearance. For all the time Sebastian spent in his apartment, comfort wasn't really an option. Except for, well, yeah. His bed. He was really particular about his bed and its comfort level. Sebastian smirked when Brody replied to his answer. "What can I say? Of all the places that get my motor running, my dad's office wasn't one of them." And, really, there was that terrifying human thing again. Not really something he was up for discussing with Brody, though - or anyone, for that matter. He watched, waiting for Brody's answer, and huffed when he put the shot back on the counter. "Boring. You should fix that." With him. He should fix it with him. Like hell he was spending so long trying to talk Brody into playing dressing up for some stranger. This was /his/ hard work. He snorted at the next one, not even having to think before pulling the shot to his lips and swallowing it down. "College. We were drunk, and we were /sure/ the lights were low enough in that club." It had been pretty hilarious up until the point that he'd had to deal with his father - who, rather than paying the bail to get him out that night, chose to leave him in overnight to learn his lesson. "And, no, he wasn't a judge."

He pondered what he could ask Brody next, going through all the sexual exploits that he and the older man had discussed in the past. What he'd learned about Brody thus far had been that he was prone to sex-based accidents - or, at least, had been when he was younger, wasn't as against recurring partners as Sebastian was... oh, and that he was amazing in bed. Irrelevant to the game, but still worth a thought. From what he had managed to gather, Brody had become less promiscuous as he got older - but just how wild /had/ his colleague been in his college days? "Never have I ever had sex in front of a crowd of more than three people." Because, yeah - specifications were important. His own college days had been pretty wild, especially after his breakup.

#ttl #Sebastian Smythe #para #Another Shot #p. Sebastian #holidays #Christmas #JAX Tavern

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bebeblogger · 5 years

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On Gimmicks

Some of us have heard this song:

She can uh, she can uh She can uh, uh, uh They'll never make her rich. Me - I uh, and I uh And I uh, uh, uh But I do it with a switch!

I'm electrifying And I ain't even trying I never had to sweat to get paid. 'Cause if you got a gimmick Gypsy girl, you've got it made!*

True words, in my opinion. Burlesque is a saturated market, and there’s never been a shortage of creative people who want to dance for money. I myself will twirl on skates, as evidenced in my grainy Instagram post below. I’m always trying to think of new gimmicks!

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A post shared by Bebe Bardot (@bebe.bardot) on Sep 14, 2018 at 5:28am PDT

As a performer, I respect all my stripper colleagues and admire all the hard work that goes into every detail of every act! But I remember my years of just watching as a fan. Back in those days, my favorite performers were the ones who *entertained* me - the ones who used their stage time to show me something different, fun, unique, fresh, or thought-provoking. I loved the performers who actually communicated with me from the stage, in their own way.

Now that I’ve gotten (almost) 2 years of performing under my belt, I understand that the ability to entertain is not in everyone. And that’s okay - we are all different! But I think with careful thought, we can all push ourselves to think outside the box about what we’re trying to communicate with our acts. And gimmicks can help us do that. The word “gimmick” has a bit of a negative connotation, but I argue that gimmicks are a great thing in burlesque! To me, a gimmick isn’t always a skill that took years to perfect; however, a carefully practiced skill can still be a gimmick. We may get tired of the “same old gimmicks” as performers, but these are brand new experiences to our audience members. So, in my opinion, there are good gimmicks and bad gimmicks. The difference is not in what the gimmick is, but how it’s done. Bad gimmicks don’t come from a real place in the performer’s heart - they are performed indifferently or carelessly, and the act is usually not memorable. And then there are good gimmicks. When done right, they bring an element of surprise and awe to the audience! To me, a good gimmick rests in the performer’s happiness doing the gimmick, and their skill level and passion in executing the gimmick. When someone cares about something, works hard at it, and is thoughtful about what they put onstage, it shows!! So all gimmicks can be good gimmicks, in my opinion - as long as it done thoughtfully and with the audience’s reaction in mind.

I don’t think any one performer has a monopoly on any one gimmick, but it’s always nice to let someone know if you’re doing the same type of act they do, especially if you’re in the same area!! No one likes a copycat or a thief.

With that being said, here are just four types of burlesque “gimmicks”, with examples of some of my favorite modern acts displaying it. It would be cool to trace the origins of these!

Balloons: My fave example is Julie Atlas Muz - who actually just used one big ass balloon.

Rollerskates: My fave example (besides myself bc duh) is Heidi Hollywood!

Animal/Creature Play: I have way too many faves. Perle Noire as a sexy mf cat, Femme LeFreak as a werewolf, and Raquel Reed as a Vegas gorilla showgirl. Dirty Martini, Catherine D’Lish, and Lou Lou la Duchess de Riere with spider tributes.

Cowgirls/Cowboys: My fave examples are Calamity Chang’s Latex Cowgirl, Sweetpea, Lou Lou D’Vil, and Sydni Deveraux! This is another fave gimmick of mine because I’m from Texas! YEEHAW.

There are so many other popular gimmicks out there that take a range of skill level - martini glasses, bathtubs, aerial rings, hooping, fire, nuns and priests, dolls, evil queens and Disney princesses, nerds, secretaries, fetish play, cosplay, etc. etc. So much diversity in how people perceive strippers! Haha :-p. I may be in the minority here, but I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing gimmicks onstage! I guess even though I’m a performer, I’m still a big fan as well.

*Lyrics from burlesque hymn “You Gotta Have a Gimmick” from the movie Gypsy.

#burlesque

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anavoliselenu · 7 years

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Creighton chapter 5

“No, Mr. Karas, I’m not a stripper.”

I could swear he breathes a sigh of relief at my answer, but his expression never changes.

“You have me at a disadvantage then. You clearly know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

Here we go. “My name is Selena Wickman, but most people know me as Selena Wix.”

I’m not a big enough deal that I would expect recognition to light his features, but I’m slightly disappointed at the continued lack of change in his expression.

Finally, one arrogant eyebrow lifts as if telling me to continue. I stay quiet.

He fails to keep a slight edge of frustration out of his tone with his next question. “And why do most people know you as a name other than your own?”

“It’s my stage name. I sing. Country music.” The explanation comes out in a disjointed tumble of words.

Knowledge flares in his eyes. Has he heard of me? For some reason, that sends a shiver up my spine.

He frowns and his eyes turn hard. “I have heard of you. My assistant is a fan of yours, and your boyfriend who was . . . supposed to propose tonight?” He turns and reaches for my coat. “I make it a policy not to fuck other men’s women. And I sure as fuck don’t marry them. I would’ve married a stripper, but even I draw the line at a cheating whore.”

The complete one-eighty in his mood throws me for a loop, and I cringe. “Please don’t call me that.”

“If the cowboy boot fits . . .” His expression is no longer blank, but filled with ugliness.

My stomach drops to my toes, and I take my coat from his outstretched hand.

Well, that was quick. And now I’m screwed.

“I knew it was a mistake to come here,” I whisper.

“Then why did you?” he asks. “And why the hell did you leave that bar with me on Christmas Eve if you had a fucking boyfriend?”

I walk to the door, static buzzing in my head. I just bet it all on him, and lost.

What am I going to do now?

I grasp the handle, twist, and tug before I realize the door is still locked. I flip the dead bolt and pull it open an inch before a large tanned hand slaps against the door, slamming it shut.

“Answer me,” he demands.

I don’t care if he is a billionaire, I won’t let anyone speak to me that way. Spinning around, I find myself trapped in the cage his arms have formed around me.

“You really want to know why I did what I did on Christmas Eve?”

“Obviously.”

He bites the word out, and now that I have nothing to lose, I want to slap the expression off his face. Instead, I go for as much honesty as I can offer.

“Because sometimes you just need to escape from reality. And what better way than to let someone screw you into oblivion? And it’d been fourteen months since I’d been with anyone. I was overdue, and you were there. I considered you my Christmas present to myself. That’s how I justified it.”

I turn again and reach for the handle as his arm wraps around my waist. It’s the same move as when I was sitting on a bar stool downstairs. Before I can protest, he hauls me back against his hard, hot chest. I struggle, ready to elbow him to let go.

A harsh whisper in my ear doesn’t still my movements.

“Fourteen months? You don’t get to throw out something like that and then not explain yourself.”

I continue to fight against his hold, and his arm pulls tighter.

“You’re not leaving this room without giving me an explanation.”

I can feel the ridge of his erection pressing against my lower back, and I’m battered with memories of Christmas Eve. I need to get out of here and fast, because I’m liable to do whatever he says. There’s something about the man that I just can’t stay immune to for long.

“I’ll probably get sued if I tell you more,” I say.

His hand spreads out across my stomach, his thumb sliding up and down beneath my breasts in another move I recognize all too well.

“I’ve got top-notch lawyers, Selena.” His lips brush my ear, and heat gathers between my legs.

I have to get out of here. I tug again at his hold—unsuccessfully.

“Good for you,” I say. “I hope you and your lawyers are very happy together.”

His tone loses a fraction of its edge when he replies, “They’ll be your lawyers too, if you’d just explain yourself.”

Those words finally still my struggle because they hit on the exact reason I chose him—my hope that he has enough power, leverage, and blood-sucking lawyers to uncoil the mess I’ve gotten myself into.

I took one leap of faith tonight, and I have no other alternatives. What is telling him really going to hurt now?

I suck in a deep breath before I whisper the truth that only the label execs, JC, Tana, and Mick know.

“My whole relationship with JC is a PR stunt organized by the record label, and I had no choice but to go along with it. JC and I . . . well, let’s just say that we’re both into male equipment.”

It’s as if I can feel the leashed anger drain out of him. He steps away, turns me back around to face him, and takes my coat from my hands, holding it up and open as if expecting me to slip my arms into it.

“Now you’re throwing me out?” He really is the complete asshole his competition makes him out to be.

My thoughts are stolen straight from my head when, for the first time tonight, he smiles. And my panties are a lost cause.

“No, Selena. We’re going to Vegas.”

Holy. Shit.

I look down at the diamond on my left ring finger. You could buy the entire trailer park I grew up in with this thing, and still have money left over to buy a brand-new F-250 to park in front of it.

I lean against the plush leather of the limo delivering us back to Caesar’s Palace, unable to believe I actually went through with it. I’m officially Mrs. Selena Karas, and tonight is my wedding night—or maybe to be more accurate, my wedding morning, as it’s New Year’s Day in Nevada now too.

I look at the man seated across from me. Justin Karas.

I just married a billionaire. Granted, the prenup I read on the jet during our flight made it very clear that those billions are largely to remain his, regardless of the outcome of our marriage. If things fall apart, I’ll have to refer to Section 39, subsections (a) to (zz), which list possible causes of the “dissolution” and the accompanying formula to calculate what I walk away from this union with.

Nearly fifty pages, and I read the entire thing. I was screwed by one contract, and I wasn’t looking to get screwed by both this man and his contract. With my community college drop-out status, it isn’t surprising that reading it mostly confused the crap out of me. If my adrenaline wasn’t continually dumping into my system due to the looks Justin kept giving me, I probably would have fallen asleep. Regardless, I’m guardedly confident that I understand enough to hope that I’m not missing anything obvious.

Justin made a call to his lawyers as soon as we walked out of the twenty-four-hour wedding chapel. They now have their hands on a copy of my contract with Homegrown, courtesy of the e-mail I forwarded Justin, and are going over it with a fine-tooth comb.

Apparently now that the task is in competent legal hands, he considers the matter handled. And for tonight, I don’t think there is anything more I can do either. My phone has stayed off because I don’t want to face the voice mails that surely wait for me. So instead, I focus on the present.

It’s my wedding night.

Oh my God.

What the hell am I doing?

Aside from my one night with Justin, I’ve been with exactly two other guys—my high school boyfriend, and a friend with benefits who was a regular at the bowling alley. With my high school boyfriend, I was lucky that he got it in the right hole on the first try. It hurt the first time, and all the times after that weren’t a heck of a lot better. My friend with benefits was an improvement, but nothing like the night I had with Justin.

Because of my prior lack of positive experience in the bedroom department, I’ve never considered myself a very sexual creature. Which is why agreeing to the label’s crazy scheme with JC wasn’t a huge problem in the beginning. But as the months wore on, something changed inside me. It probably has something to do with all the sexy books I read on the road while I’m touring. And the sinfully hot—and taken—man I’m touring with.

My Christmas Eve one-night stand was supposed to be just that—one night. And now I’m married to him. Every time I think about my current situation, I wonder if I’m crazy.

“You’re awfully quiet over there, my darling wife,” Justin drawls.

“Please don’t call me that if you’re just trying to make fun of me.” My voice sounds small, even to me.

His eyebrow lifts, and perfectly formed lips lift into a smirk. “Why would I make fun of you?”

“I don’t know.” I shake my head, trying to throw off his spell. “It’s been a long day, and I’m still trying to catch up with everything that happened.”

His playful expression fades, and I brace myself for whatever he’s going to say next. Justin’s behavior hasn’t exactly been warm and fuzzy so far, and his words have been decidedly no-bullshit.

“You don’t need to catch up with anything except sleep for the rest of the night.”

Shock courses through me. “We’re not . . . I mean, you’re not planning on . . .”

Goose bumps prickle my skin at his appraising look.

“The next time I fuck you, Selena, I want to make sure you’re with me one hundred percent. I will accept nothing less than all of you, and right now your mind is a million miles away.”

He’s right. My thoughts are on the other side of the country, wondering what kind of hell I’m going to have to pay for this decision. And also a little at home, wondering if I’ll end up on a bus back there if I fail to please my new husband.

I don’t want to see this look of disappointment on his face. I want to see the heat that brought me almost to the edge of orgasm before I even followed his commands to strip naked. There’s nothing I can do right now to deal with the fallout of the decision I’ve made, but I can try to make whatever we might have here work for both of us.

“Besides, I have all the time in the world to wring orgasm after orgasm from your body until your legs are so weak you can barely stand.” His expression heats. “And plenty of time to train you to take my cock exactly the way I want—in every way, but first between those fuckable lips of yours.”

All thoughts of anything but the forbidden things he offers are wiped from my mind. I want to see the approval I saw in his eyes that night, and that I heard in his voice when he opened the door at the Plaza. Something in his dominant nature snapped the pieces of my sexuality into place, and I want to revel in that feeling. Now.

I slide off the seat and drop to my knees.

Justin stares down at me, and that dang eyebrow of his rises. “You praying, Selena?”

I shake my head. “No, sir. I’m taking your cock exactly the way you want it.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, just reaches up to press the limo’s intercom button. “Keep driving until I tell you to stop.”

Anticipation. Nerves. Excitement. And a unique and new sense of power. They’re all flowing through my veins and controlling my actions.

Justin settles into the seat and rests his big hands on his spread thighs. He’s unreadable, but his words hide nothing. “I like having a wife who wants to suck my dick in a limo.”

Shivers race across my skin, and my nipples pucker against the cups of my bra. Even though my body is screaming yes, I’m afraid I’ll lose my nerve and look more ridiculous than I did before I started this.

“Would you please tell me to?”

He tilts his head to one side. “You are so fucking perfect.” He reaches out and cups my jaw. “Selena, suck my cock until I come down your throat. Because even if I don’t fuck you tonight, I want my wife sleeping with my cum inside her.”

My inner muscles clench, and my panties are instantly soaked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

I reach for his belt and unfasten it before sliding down his zipper. He lifts up and adjusts, allowing me to pull his boxer briefs down to free his cock.

If ever a man’s penis deserved its own entrance music, it would be Justin Karas’s. It’s long, thick, and perfectly veined. His heavy balls are already rising up to the base of his shaft.

I slide my hands up his thighs and lean forward. Pausing, I look up into Justin’s hooded eyes as I drag my tongue from base to crown. Salty precum beading at the tip urges me on. I make my first attempt at taking him in my mouth. On Christmas Eve, he whispered promises about fucking my face after he was sated with my pussy, but those promises never came to pass because of my stealthy early-morning departure.

But I’m going to give it my all now. I wrap my lips around his cock and suck him in. My progress is pathetic, but he shows no concern that I can’t take him very deep. The stroking of his thumb along my jaw makes me want to try harder.

I adjust my position and take him as far as I can, gagging slightly on his length. He groans as I retreat. The tears streaking down my cheeks show just what a beginner I am at this. Justin’s thumbs wipe them away.

“Don’t hurry it. It’ll take time for you to get used to me.”

Time. The one commodity he doesn’t seem to waste much on women. But then again, he actually married me.

Regardless, his reassurance buoys my flagging confidence, and I take him further again and again, tongue working him over with each stroke. His groans of pleasure make me wetter and wetter until my legs are pressing together to soothe my ache.

I’m ready to climb on him in this fancy limo when he says, “Hold still, Selena. I’m going to fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

I still, and he guides my face to the most advantageous angle. And then his thrusts resume, picking up the pace until his rhythm slows and a wave of cum is unleashed in my mouth. I swallow as fast as I can, but I can’t keep up. It dribbles down my chin.

When he finally pulls his softening cock from my mouth, his thumb catches the drips and paints my lips with them.

“Can’t have my wife missing anything I give her.”

The word wife is said with such possessiveness, I shiver and lick my lips. Reality sets in when he presses the intercom button on the ceiling.

“You can head back to the hotel now.”

Justin tucks himself into his pants and rights his clothing before I have the presence of mind to stumble back into my seat.

I can’t believe I just did that. I push off the floor, intent on returning to my own side of the limo, but Justin grips me by the upper arms and hauls me into his lap.

“Jesus, woman. You could wreck a man with that mouth.”

His lips descend on mine before I can respond. His tongue delves into my mouth, fucking it just as surely as his cock had. I give myself over to the kiss, shocked that he’d kiss me after he just came in my mouth.

But he must not mind, because he doesn’t pull back until the limo slows and stops. When the door opens, he carefully sets me on the seat beside him, steps out, and reaches inside to lift me into the cradle of his arms.

My confusion must be branded across my features, because he says, “A bride doesn’t cross the threshold except in the groom’s arms.”

I harden my heart against the erratic thump-thump his words produce. It means nothing. It’s a gesture of possession, just as surely as the ring on my finger is.

As I tell myself these things, the exhaustion of the day sneaks up on me, and I rest my head against his shoulder.

I’ll just close my eyes for a second, I think.

I’m out before we even reach the elevator.

“The country music world is reeling to learn that Selena Wix, a still-new addition to the scene who got her start on the show Country Dreams, married billionaire playboy Justin Karas in Vegas last night. The couple was first photographed leaving an off-Strip wedding chapel, and then a short time later entering Caesar’s Palace, where Karas is known to have a villa on reserve. When asked for a reaction, JC Hughes’s representative responded with ‘no comment.’ Wix and Karas’s representatives were unable to be reached. But we might as well acknowledge the question on everyone’s mind: how long have Wix and Karas been sneaking around behind Hughes’s back?”

I turn my head from the TV to the gorgeous woman passed out in my bed. In sleep, she looks even more innocent than she normally does. But she didn’t look shy after she took my cock between her lips in the limo. It ranked as the top sexiest sight in my life, as well as a perfect way to kick off a new year.

My cock pulses at the thought. I picture myself waking her with my head between her legs. But for all that we’re married, I’m guessing it would still freak her the fuck out. I’ll give her until tomorrow.

My wife.

I didn’t truly expect to go the marriage route again, but once I locked on the impulse, it was impossible to shake it. But even with a wedding ring on her finger, I know I won’t get attached. I don’t ever get attached. This is about continual repeat performances of the hottest sex I’ve ever had, and the added bonus of keeping the gold diggers off my back. Nothing more and nothing less.

My cell buzzes on the nightstand, and I grab it and head for the bathroom. Shutting the door, I glance down at the screen as I answer.

“What do you want, Cannon?”

“Selena Wix? You’re the luckiest fucking bastard on the planet. You knew all along, didn’t you? I mean, how could you not? Her face has been on TV enough lately that even I know what she looks like, and I hate country music. And then Jeanette doesn’t stop talking about her and that cowboy-hat-wearing man of hers. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me, you fucking asshole. Had me and the rest of the world thinking you didn’t have a clue who might show up last night. I should’ve known . . .”

I grit my teeth as he refers to JC Hughes as her man. Selena fucking belongs to me—not him. There’s no disputing that as of the early hours of this morning. Even though I know the story behind it, I dislike the idea of another man thinking he has any right to lay claim to her.

Shifting, I lean against the granite countertop. Leave it to my second-in-command to jump to the conclusion that I actually knew who she was.

“And that’s where you’re wrong. When she’s not covered head to toe in sequins, fringe, and ten pounds of makeup, she doesn’t exactly look the same as she does on TV.”

“Seriously? You really, truly had no idea?”

“None. At least, not until she told me.”

“Holy fucking shit.”

“Indeed.” I’m already impatient with this conversation. “Anything else, or can I go about my morning?”

“Sorry. I’m still processing.” Another moment of silence, and then Cannon asks, “Have you heard what the media is saying?”

“I only caught a few seconds of the news this morning. Why?”

“They’re tearing her apart on every station, and all over the Internet. You should probably care that they’re calling your wife a cheating whore. But then again, some of them are saying she made the right move because Hughes has apparently been fucking around on her since the beginning.”

Rage burns through my veins, which might make me a hypocrite because I jumped to the same conclusion at first. But she’s my wife, and that’s fucking unacceptable. Selena said this would happen, and I told her I’d handle it. I’m not about to drop my end of the bargain.

“Get the PR team on it. Now. Crush anyone who says a negative word about her. I don’t care what you have to do.”

“How are you going to spin it?”

I fill him on the story I want fed to every major media outlet in the country—fuck, the world—and the accompanying threats.

Before we hang up, Cannon adds, “Since you’re in Vegas, you should probably know that they’re taking odds on how long this is going to last.”

“They take odds on everything.”

“Just saying. If you have any inside information, I’ll happily go place my bet and rake in some easy money.”

“Are you asking me to bet on when my marriage is going to end?”

“Come on, man. We all know this isn’t going to last. So, what do you think? I give it six months at the outside before you’re sick of her pussy and will be dying for some variety.”

I grit my teeth because I don’t have time for this shit right now. “Thank you for your vote of confidence.”

“Seriously, Crey—”

“Fuck off, Cannon. Go fix shit.”

I hang up, my morning mood turning dark as I open the bathroom door.

“How bad is it?”

Selena is sleep-rumpled and still wearing the undershirt I dressed her in last night after she passed out on me. Her legs and feet are bare, and her dark brown hair is tumbling down around her shoulders. She looks all of sixteen years old. Which apparently makes me a dirty old man, because I want that fresh-faced beauty staring up at me from her knees with my cock between her lips again.

“It’s not good, but it’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it,” I reply before asking, “How old are you?”

“You didn’t google me?” Her eyebrows inch up toward her hairline.

“I prefer the truth, and not some shit made up on Wikipedia.”

She looks down at her feet, and I almost miss her answer. “I’m twenty-two.”

I’m too fucking shocked to school my expression. My eyes feel like they must be bulging from my head. I rub a hand down my face.

“Are you fucking serious?” I never considered she might be that young.

Her shoulders go back, and she straightens to her full height, a whopping five foot six or so. “If my age was important, maybe you should have asked me last night.”

Selena has a point. Last night, I was so caught up in the hype of my own making that it didn’t occur to me to ask. When she’s wearing makeup and more than just my T-shirt, she easily looks several years older.

She narrows her eyes. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-three.”

Her mouth forms an O. My morning wood rears up in my boxer briefs, and her attention drops to waist level.

A hesitant smile flits across her face. “Do you . . . um . . . want me to . . . ?”

She really might be the perfect woman.

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