Markiplier Imagines

97 // Club Spade

when things go awry, and i start thinking about descriptive things such as this PIECE OF HORSESHIT THATS SO CRINGEY THAT EVEN READING IT A YEAR LATER MAKES ME YELL. [also I haven't the slightest idea of how a man gives a lapdance, so bear with me here.]

"I dare you to ask him for a lapdance."

"C'mon, you know you wanna," your friend, Hannah, tugged at your arm, slowly dragging you into the male strip club. Her black, fringe of hair bounced atop her head as she giggled and turned around to you, her brown eyes alight with amusement.

You sighed and followed, going along with her tugging. "You know, Hannah, this was all your idea. I had absolutely nothing to do with this."

"I know. It's great, idn't it!?" Her southern accent shone through in her words, putting a small smile on your face and a slight shake to your head.

"God, you're an idiot, you know that?"

"Huh? I couldn't hear you over my awesomeness."

The two of you walked up to the guard at the entrance to the club, showing him your ID's before going in and trying to weave your way through the drunk, high, possibly horny girls filling the floor. What didn't help the situation was the fact that lights were flickering everywhere, music was practically blaring in your ears, and every passing dude was either in practically nothing but underwear with a tie on it, or some random costume.

The said costumes ranged from pilots and sailors to doctors and gym teachers. Speaking of men in costumes, a guy walked past you with a silver tray in his hand, wearing nothing but a pair of tight jogging shorts. Shaking your head, you looked up to the center stage, seeing three guys holding onto the poles with their heads down and hats on.

Hannah pointed out a seat near the back, so you went with her. Luckily enough, you had a perfect view of one of the more toned men up there. A ring split through the noise of moaning, drunk girls slurring all of their words and tripping on their heels.

"Ahem, ladies and gentlemen, please, direct your attention to the center stage. We have a special performance for you all. So, sit back, and enjoy the show."

With that, all of the flashing lights went off, darkening the entire club. Then, spotlights flickered on, showcasing the boys gripping the poles. A soft entrance to a song started playing, and the dancers started to slowly reach for their hats.

When the music picked up and the beat started to near its first drop, the dancers sped up, gripping the bill of their hat and throwing it in a random direction. The one facing you looked up, brandishing a bowtie and white collar strip around his neck, a bare chest, and a pair of tight black pants.

His features weren't exactly the clearest, but the red hair atop his head was obviously visible in the white light. Just then, a quick flick to your arm grabbed your attention away from the male dancer, making you snap your head toward your seat mate.

"Okay, seriously. How do these dudes get so hot?"

"I don't freakin' know, Hannah."

Turning your attention back to the show, you looked just in time to see his hand trailing down his pec, abs, and gripping the crotch of his pants as he thrusted outward and to the crowd. He kept moving his hand, trailing it up instead of down and going past his v-line, back up to his pec, his index finger circling his nipple, then going up to his mouth and being gripped between his teeth.