AN- So I decided to turn "Stripping Captain Swan" into a collection of one-shots where either Emma or Killian is a stripper in any kind of universe, or strip for one another. Each one-shot will be titled with a different song title that the person is stripping to. Fics will vary in length but always be rated M.
This one is based on the scene from Magic Mike XXL where one of the guys does a dance in the convenience store. I hope you enjoy it. Keep it sexy you guys!
I Want It That Way
"You want me to what now?" Killian stared at his comrades in dumbfounded confusion, his dark thick eyebrow raised in question.
"We are a little short on cash and we are going to need you to take one for the team." David met his gaze, two hands placed on the man's broad shoulders.
David smirked knowingly, looking toward the window to the convenience store as the rest of his travel companions tried to stifle their laughter.
"Yeah I got that mate." Killian agreed, sneering as he plucked David's hand from his shoulder. "I just don't know why I have to be the one to do it." He all but growled, making aggravated faces, his body overcome with a jittery nervousness.
"Look, you've got this champ." David tried to reassure him, pumping him up for the task ahead.
"I appreciate the vote of confidence David but I fail to see why Graham, August, Robin? Or even Jefferson?" He gestured toward his colleagues like a pouty teenager who didn't get his way.
"You and I both know that sending in 'the hatter' in would be a terrible idea." David sighed.
"Hey!" Jefferson took offense.
"No, keep your rabbit in your pants." David ordered, looking at Jefferson before turning back to Killian. "You are the man for the job. You are the captain buddy. If anyone can do it, it's you." He looked his collegue dead ass in the face with all the confidence in the world hoping that he would 'rise up' to the occasion.
"It's me. It's me. I got this." Killian moved in place, shaking out his obvious nerves and cracking his head in preparation.
"You are the mother fucking captain!" David shouted in support.
"Fuck right I am." Killian nodded his head fervently.
"Who is the captain?" David called out.
"I am." Killian answered.
"Who is the captain?" David cupped his ear to elicit a more confident response from his co-worker.
"I am!" Killian hollered.
"Damn right you are." David smiled before rounding the man in front of him. "Now go get 'em pirate!" David pushed Killian toward the entrance and slapped his ass for good luck.
"See that guys? That's pirate booty right there." David shook his head in admiration, watching as Killian flung the door to the convenience store open and slipped inside. "Women can't resist the pirate." He murmured to himself, his hand tucked underneath his chin to patiently wait for what was soon to come.
This would work — it had to work.
Killian stormed into the convenience store, his sneakers coming to a screeching halt against the linoleum as he looked around to make sure the store was empty. He glanced over to the clerk, head deep in a magazine, paying him no mind.
He inhaled sharply, shaking out his remaining nerves, his eyes trained on the blonde goddess of a cashier — this wouldn't be easy. He exhaled the breath he was holding in and heard the opening chords of "I Want It That Way" by the Backstreet Boys start playing over the radio.
He turned his head toward the ceiling, closing his eyes as he inwardly cursed himself — buggering fuck.
Killian arched his back, rolling himself sensually to the beat, a hand tracing over his body hidden behind his white v-neck tee and an unbuttoned red flannel shirt. He bent his legs wide, repeating the action with his other hand. He snapped his legs closed, stomping as he dragged a single finger down his chest with a painful slowness and the music began to build.
He stepped forward, tucking his foot behind the other, spinning around seductively as the song kicked in with the electronic drums. He rolled his shoulders to loosen the shirt from his body, the material landing at his elbows as he posed.
He looked at the cashier, her lips pursed in boredom as she turned the page of her magazine, and the image of her lack of amusement caused him to frown. He would just need to work harder.
He furrowed his brows, puffing out his chest with determination and began a long drawn out stride down the aisle. He stretched his hand down the row of chips, and snagged a bag of doritos. Quickly spinning around on his heels, he grasped the bag between both his hands and popped it against his chest, spraying the flavored corn snack across the floor.
The sound immediately caught the woman's attention. She looked up from her magazine, wearing a look of confusion and hatred for the mess he had caused. She paused, watching him intently from her position behind the counter as he flung the empty wrapper with a dramatic flourish of his hand.
He could hear the hoots and hollers of encouragement from his pals, witnessing him turn around to give her a full view of his ass snuggly cupping the denim of his jeans — they didn't call him the captain for nothing. He strutted down the aisle with purpose until he reached the cooler on the wall. He slapped both hands against the frosted glass, pushing his body against it, swaying his hips to the rhythm of the song.
He rolled his body against the cool door of the fridge, allowing the moisture to ease his body up and down its chilly frame. He shed his flannel from his arms, letting it fall into a heap on the ground beside him and moved to fling the fridge door open.
He let his hand linger on the edge, smoothing his palm over its spongy ridges as he maneuvered himself slowly to the ground into a crouching position. He rolled his body back up, slithering like a snake against the glass. He settled himself with his back against the door, picking up the hem of his shirt to expose the lean muscles of his abs as he began to snap his pelvis.
With one hand wrapped around the door, a leg straddled on each side, he ground himself against it to the time of the music. He smirked at the way she gawked at him behind the counter and flashed her a sexy smirk at her reaction.
His eyes never left hers as he rolled himself up into a standing position and reached into the container and grabbed a bottle of water. Spinning on his heel, he rounded the cooler until he was placed in front of it.
Stomping with his left foot, he began to run the cold beverage up and down his arms, letting the condensation from the bottle melt into his skin. He traced the welcoming chill over the muscles in his neck then dipped lower. He placed the damp bottle against the wide v of his shirt, dampening the generous smattering of chest hair there.
Turning his attention back to his arms, he drew the bottle over his other arm with a refreshing 'ah,' watching the beads of water as they rolled down his sweaty skin. Tilting his hips from side to side, he repeated the motion, switching from one arm to the other before leaning back against the fridge and tearing the cap off the bottle with his teeth.
He spat it out, a mischievous glint in his eye as he brought the bottle up and tipped it over his head. He rocked his hips forward as he drenched himself with water. He pumped his chest out, letting the water ricochet off his chest as he moved sensually to the beat.
When the bottle was empty he threw it to the side and flipped his wet hair back before running his fingers through his damp locks. Water dripped down his face, settling in his beard, and sliding down his neck as the adam's apple in his throat bobbed.
The wet shirt he wore clung to the outline of his muscles as he pushed himself off the fridge and stalked toward her with a coy smile. Fisting his hands into the hem of his shirt, he shifted it over his long torso, rolling his hips as he slowly revealed himself inch by torturous inch.
She watched him with a raised eyebrow, her arms folded across her chest and a narrowed gaze as he rhythmically shed the shirt from his body. Tilting her head, she witnessed his head disappear underneath the opening of his shirt and slipped over his shoulders to land with a wet plop on the floor.
At the sound, he thrust his arms out beside him and dropped to his knees in front of her, letting his wet jeans push him a few feet toward her until he stopped at the rug in front of the register. Killian flung himself backward, tilting his pelvis toward her and thrust into the air to the sound of the music.
She was stunned by the way his muscles in his body contracted with each motion and the way his back arched to support them. Without warning, he kicked his legs out in front of him, pushing himself up onto his arms and legs before maneuvering himself into a half-plank position.
She gulped as she took in the way he bucked himself into the air, humping it as if it were on damn body and she felt her breathing slow at the erotic sight. With her hands curled around the countertop, she leaned forward to see him jerking himself, his eyes boring into hers sensually.
Her eyes widened upon further inspection of her body, his motions giving her a clear few of the tattoos littered across his chest and back — an anchor above his left pec, a skull and crossbones on one of his shoulder blades and a flock of birds on the other.
He tilted his chin toward her as he rocked back and forth, his tongue sweeping over the seam of his lips to wet his mouth. The breath seeping from his lungs morphed into low moans as he worked his body feverishly in long twists of his hips. He could hear her faint ragged breathing, a smirk forming on his lips as he relished the effect he had on her.
He stopped suddenly, holding himself up and gave her a saucy wink before swinging his legs out from underneath him and settling into a low crouch.
The hand she used to grip the counter tightened as he slowly rose onto his feet before her, tearing a slim jim from its box in front of the register as he went. With a sharp breath, he pushed his hand through his sweaty hair and slapped the slim jim on the counter.
She was speechless, blinking up at him rapidly and looking awkwardly between him and the animal bi-product next to the register in front of her.
Killian let out a faint chuckle of amusement and pressed his tongue against his cheek. He shook his head and leaned against the counter top, the water still dripping from his chest hair. "Captain Killian Jones at your service mam." He introduced himself with a saucy wink and a raised eyebrow.
AN- I started writing this months ago for my bestest friend Yahri, who was and who still is going through a very rough time. I have another fic I need to write for her too that will be so much better than this one but I have so many things to finish. Just needed to cross this one off the list.
It was supposed to end with a BANG in the backroom but you guys are just going to have to settle for this. Sorry.