Emo Quartet Imagines

Escort- Pete Wentz

(This book has extremely graphic sexual situations, please read at your own risk. Also sorry for the typos. Requests are open so either comment or message them to me! :D)

You fucking hated people right now. You were at a bar/strip club in LA, after you had found out that your boyfriend of four years, cheated on you. You weren't drunk yet, but you wanted to change that, quickly downing a gin and tonic you had ordered from the bartender. You quickly replayed some of the events that happened earlier, when you had found out.

"Why Dylan?! What did I do wrong?!"

"Oh please. Your fucking ugly and I hate it! I fucking gag every time we have sex, damn, I'm about to puke just thinking about it!"

You wiped your eyes, feeling as if everything he said had been true. You came here, thinking that watching guys grind on poles while getting drunk would help take your mind off everything, but it didn't. Sure, all the male strippers were hot no doubt, but none of them really did anything for you. Now that you thought about more, Dylan didn't do anything for you either. You had an amazing paying job, so you could probably be buying drinks all night long if you wanted. All you had to worry about, was getting your things from the house, and getting an apartment close to where you work.

You decided, to order another drink and drown your sorrows, until you looked to your left, seeing a man. You didn't see his face at first, until he turned his head. You felt a tingling sensation in your stomach. Butterflies. You hadn't felt these in a long time. Not since Dylan. Well, thinking back, you can't remember ever getting butterflies from Dylan either. This man was so attractive. The most beautiful thing you've ever seen! His hair was bleached. Obviously it used to be brown or black, judging since that was the color of his roots. His eyebrows were black like his roots. His eyes looked like two pieces of chocolate, being an incredibly dark brown.

He was wearing a zip up grey jacket, clearly not wearing a shirt underneath, by how much skin was shown when it was drooping slightly over his shoulder. And by the skin showing, you could tell he had tattoos. Your whole life, you'd been extremely attracted to men with ink. Dylan didn't have any tattoos. He had a glass in hand, filled with a dark brown liquid. He brought the glass to his lips. Those full, luscious lips.

You figured that you should stop staring, not wanting to be rude. Who knows, he could have been hating his love life just like you tonight. But as soon as you looked away, he looked at you. Now it was his turn to stare. For a moment, you felt someone's eyes on you. You decided to ignore the feeling, ordering another drink. When the bartender left after giving you another gin and tonic, you felt someone looking at you, so you looked around to discover, it was the man you had been gawking at before. His eyes met yours, and for a while, you held each others eyes. You started to squirm in your seat under his gaze, feeling the butterflies multiply in your stomach.

A corner of his mouth turned up, a smirk formed on his face. You felt your cheeks heat up, and a blush cover your face from his small action, so you looked away, now focusing on your drink. All of the sudden, you heard a set of footsteps come your way, and a presence fill the stool beside you. You looked over to find Mr. Sexy Mystery Man himself. You couldn't help but pick at a lose string on your jeans, starting to feel hot and bothered by him being so close to you.

"So, any reason why your here?" You asked, your curiosity at it's peak.

"It's my job."

"So you're a stripper?" You just couldn't stop asking questions. This man was so mysterious, he just peaked your interest unlike anything else you've encountered.

He smirked at you once again and chewed on his bottom lip, before resting his hand on your knee, starting to trace small circles.

"I strip on the weekends."