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sluttery-withoutshame · 15 hours ago

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The drum stool table will never not crack me up.

God I’m so jealous of this fictional bitch.

You know Eric saying to himself “I hope I don’t fuck this up”? That’ll be me in a couple of weeks when I’m in his presence. Can’t fucking believe that is actually gonna happen.

Anywaaaaay, enough about me, I’m fucking loving this so far. You gotta chapter three to drop on me?

Gambling With The Heart

Chapter Two

Eric Singer X OC

A/N: I would love to have linked that first chapter, but Tumblr is being a dick, so that it won't let me. Anyway, please enjoy the second chapter of this series.

Eric’s POV

I'm still not sure how that worked for me. I figured there was no way anyone that pretty and young would entertain a conversation with me. I'm not twenty-five anymore and haven't been for a long time. I have to be three times her age.

Then I fumbled, starting that conversation pretty bad. I pointed out the watch as a last resort because I couldn't think of anything else to say. I figured it must have had some kind of story. Not every day do you see a nice watch like that on the wrist of a girl like her. It’s a Tag Heuer Carrera chronograph, in black with rose gold. It’s a sexy watch, and it looks good on her wrist.

The first thing that came to mind was that her rich boyfriend had bought it for her. She'd tell me that, and I’d return to the table and say I told you so. Only that didn't happen, and the story was much more interesting.

It turns out that she won it in a poker game and had no idea that it was worth around $10,000.

Not every day you meet a beautiful woman who won a watch in a poker game and is from Canada.

Vegas has its fair share of characters, but I've never met anyone who's caught me off guard that much. I sure wasn't expecting that when I walked up to her.

I also wasn't expecting her actually to agree to see me again. She is new to town and doesn't know anyone; that could be why she said yes, but even if it is, I'll take it. I was sure I would get shot down, but she said yes and now I have her number.

I sound like a teenager, not a sixty-six-year-old man. Teenage Eric wasn't pulling girls that hot, though. He barely pulled any. I guess that's what teenage me and sixty-six-year-old me have in common. I figured I'd be married by now. Life had other plans.

I picked up the piece of paper with her number written on it. She signed it with her name. Jewel. Next to it, she put a little diamond. It's a cute touch. I wonder if that's her favourite card suit? I'll have to ask her.

She hasn't left my mind since I met her earlier. It’s been a while since I met anyone who did that to me. I want to call her. I don't want to come on too strong, though I don't want to come off as uninterested. I'm interested. I don't know if she's interested in me, but I hope she is. Jewel agreed to see me again, so that has to be a good sign, right?

“What do you think, buddy?” I ask, looking at Ash, who just jumped on my lap.

“Should I call her?”

I give him a scratch behind the ear, and he makes a little noise. I'll take that as a yes, even if it was probably because I gave him a scratch.

I take my glasses off my cluttered coffee table and put them on to see the phone screen. The print on these things is so small. Then I dial her number from the piece of paper. I just hope she picks up.

It rings once. Then again.

“Hello?” I hear her voice answer.

“Hey, Jewel, it’s Eric Singer,” I tell her.

“Oh hey, Eric.” She says, sounding happy to hear from me, which makes me feel good about this decision.

“I was wondering if you were free tomorrow night and if you wanted to go out for dinner.” I shot my shot.

“I’d love to, but I work tomorrow night.” He tells me, sounding disappointed.

“What about tonight?” She suggests, “Unless you already have plans.”

“No, I'm good with tonight,” I say.

The sooner, the better.

I glance at the time on my watch. It's 3:30 now. I should give us time to get ready and for me to find a good place to take her.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” I tell her.

“Okay, sounds great.” She replies, “I’ll send you my address because I can't remember it off the top of my head.”

I laugh at that; we've been there when we moved to a new place and can't remember our address.

“No problem; I'm looking forward to seeing you later.” Fuck it. I might as well be truthful.

“I’m looking forward to it too.” Jewel replies, “I'll see you at seven.”

“See you then,” I say, hanging up the phone.

Well, that worked out better than I could have imagined.

——————————————————

Jewel’s POV

I can't believe I went from alone to hanging out with Eric Singer within 24 hours. It feels unreal. Yet it’s reality. I'm freaking out a bit. I don't want to make a fool of myself in front of him. He’s him, and I'm me. Yet he asked me to go out for dinner. I am now freaking out a little.

I have no idea what to wear. I haven't been out to dinner with anyone in so long. I've never been out to dinner with anyone like Eric before. I also have no idea where he's taking me. I don't want to be overdressed or underdressed.

I also don't want to look like a sugar baby. After all, he is an older man, and I am a younger woman; this is Vegas. He looks great for his age, but that age gap isn't going to disappear. I've seen lots of that. That's far from my intentions here. I could never do that. I'd feel very guilty. I like making my own money.

I sigh.

Whenever I’m freaking out, there is one person I call my sister Victoria. She always knows what to do. Even though I'm unsure if I want to get her involved, I know she’ll help.

I take out my phone and FaceTime with her.

“Oh look, Mark, it's Jewel! My long lost sister!” She answers dramatically, her fiance Mark sitting next to her.

“Nice to see you too, Victoria.” I laugh, rolling my eyes, “How's it going, Mark?”

“You know the usual, how are you doing? How's Vegas?” Mark asks; I love my soon-to-be brother-in-law. He's perfect for Victoria and like a brother to me already.

“Well, that's why I'm calling,” I tell them, “I’m going out to dinner with someone, and I don't know what to wear.”

“Oh, who?” My sister asks, looking intrigued.

“Eric Singer from KISS,” I tell her, awaiting the judgment.

“THE KISS DRUMMER?!” Mark gasps in shock; he's a big fan of KISS.

I love KISS, but not nearly as much as Mark. They are his all-time favourite band, and he has an extensive collection. So I know his sister-in-law met one of them and is going to dinner with one, so I must have him on cloud nine.

“YOU’RE HAVING DINNER WITH THE CATMAN?!”

“Yes.” I can't help but laugh at Mark’s reaction.

“You’ve been in Vegas two weeks and already have a date with a rockstar.” My sister says, looking impressed.

“What does he look like, Mark?” Vic asks as Mark takes out his phone to do a Google search.

“There he is,” Mark says, showing Vic a photo, hopefully a good one of Eric. Not that bad ones exist.

“For someone in his sixties, he looks pretty good,” Victoria says approvingly.

“Look at you pulling rockstars.”

“I wouldn't say I pulled him.” I tell her, “This is just a dinner between two people; I don't know if it's a date.”

“You always do this, Jewel.” Victoria says, “He asked you out; it's a date. Let yourself have this.”

“Fine.” I sigh. Even if I'm not convinced, it's a nice thought. I would be lying if I said I didn't have a bit of a crush on this man.

He was easy to talk to and not pretentious or flaunting who he was; it was like I was talking to any guy. Not the drummer of one of the biggest bands in the world. It was nice.

I'm looking forward to more conversation later. He seems like a fascinating man with lots to say.

“Now, what should I wear?” I ask her to get back on the subject.

“Hmmm.” Victoria debates with herself.

“What about that leather skirt you wore to our engagement party?”

That is a great skirt. It's a vintage leather mini-skirt with a zipper up the front. It might be a little too sexy, though. I don't want to give off a slutty vibe. I don't see him as someone who'd be into that.

“Is it too sexy, though?” I asked, pulling out the skirt and looking it over.

“Jewel, it's the perfect amount of sexy.” Victoria says, “Just wear some tights if you're worried about showing too much legs.”

“Alight, I can do that,” I say, taking out my sheer black tights to go with it.

“Now for a top, how about….” I pause as I dig through my top dresser drawer for a top.

“This?” I asked, pulling out a simple silk tank top.

“Thats perfect.” Victoria smiles, “I’m so happy for you. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you this happy.”

“Thank you.” I smile back at her, and I am thrilled.

“Speaking of cats,” Mark says, holding up Shadow, my big fluffy black cat.

“Someone wants to say hello.”

“Oh, hello, my baby boy,” I say to my baby voice. I miss that cat so much.

I couldn't take him with me when I moved, so I left him with Mark and Victoria. I was living with them before I moved. He was my cat, but he also loves them. And know for a fact that they spoil him to death. Sometime, once I'm more settled, I’ll get another cat. I miss having one around.

“It’s pretty empty around here without you.” My sister says, sounding sad. I know she misses me, and I miss her too.

“I know, I miss having you guys around too,” I tell her, “Soon you'll be married, and then I'm sure you’ll find a way to fill that empty room.”

“I know, I know.” Victoria says, “But I just miss my little sister.”

“She misses you too.” I do miss them. I don't know if I could have done this without the ability to contact them and see them. Thank god for modern technology.

“But I'm also happy things seem to work well for you.” Victoria continues, “You deserve it.”

“Thank you, Vic.” I smile.

“You know, if this works out, I could have a member of KISS at my wedding.” Mark fanboys, I just sigh and shake my head.

“If this goes well, I never let him meet you.” I tease, “Nothing could scare this man off more than you jizzing your pants over him being in KISS.”

“Hey.” Mark tries to protest.

“Come on, sweetie, she has a point. You are like the biggest fan.” Victoria laughs, and Mark can't argue with that.

“Oh yeah, you’ll freak out over this.”

When I met Eric, I suddenly remembered he was having dinner with Bruce Kulick. So, I also saw Bruce Kulick, who happens to be our favourite KISS guitar player. I know Mark’s going to flip hearing about this.

“Guess who Eric was having dinner with when I met him.”

“Who?” Mark asks excitedly.

“Bruce Kulick,” I tell him.

“So far, you've met two KISS members?!” Mark says absolutely beside himself, “You’re living the dream.”

I just laugh at that.

“Well, I should probably get going,” I tell them, looking at my watch. The watch I now know is worth $10,000, thanks to Eric.

“Okay, you have fun.” Victoria says, “I love you.”

“I love you guys too. Talk to you soon.” I reply before we hang up.

I hope this dinner goes well.

——————————————————

Eric’s POV

I take a deep breath and knock on Jewel’s door. I'm nervous. I have no idea why. I've taken girls out to dinner before. It’s been a while. I will admit that, but it's not like it's the first time. Usually, it ends badly, though. I hope it doesn't end that way with her.

The door opens, and there Jewel stands. She looks gorgeous. She's wearing a short leather skirt that fits her like a glove. She’s also wearing a silky tank top that shows off the right amount of cleavage to drive a guy wild. Keep it together, Eric.

You don't want to be the creepy date staring at her boobs all night, even if they do look good in that top. Enough of that; be respectful. Don't make it awkward.

“Hi.” She smiles when she sees me, grabbing her purse off the table in her entranceway. Hers is a real table, unlike mine, a drum stool.

“You look gorgeous,” I tell her as she steps out and locks her door.

“Thank you.” She smiles sweetly at me, “You look good too.”

Not as good as her.

“Thank you, I tried my best,” I tell her, “Let’s go.”

“Alright, lead the way.” She tells me as I walk back to my car.

Eric, you can't mess one up. I remind myself. This is a rare chance you can't fuck up.

#eric singer #snack cake #swag master #kiss fanfic #eric singer fanfic #kiss band #singer simps

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sluttery-withoutshame · 16 hours ago

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God I’ve got to get back to being on here every minute of the day so I don’t miss the feast of this!

Sorry it’s taken me so long to find this @eyes-of-rock! It’s fucking amazing. It reached out off the screen and squeezed my heart.

I hope chapter two starts with Bruce and Lisa being all smug in an “I told you so” kinda way. 😂

Oh god what I would give….I need to find a fancy watch to catch his attention.

Gambling With The Heart

chapter one

Eric Singer X OC

Jewel took the gamble of her life when she moved from a small town in Canada to Las Vegas to pursue her dream of making a name for herself as a professional poker player. She’s all alone in a new city until a chance meeting with Eric Singer changes that.

Jewel’s POV

Two weeks ago, I took the biggest gamble of my life. I moved from my small town in Canada to Las Vegas.

I have two great loves: poker and classic metal and rock. I have no musical talent, so I decided to pursue being a professional poker player.

I was fascinated when I saw my dad and his friends playing it at our kitchen table. I fell in love right there and then. I dedicated my life to learning and playing the game. That dedication paid off because I was good enough to win every tournament back home.

That’s good, but winning tournaments in Atlantic Canada isn’t how you make a name for yourself. It's not how you make it to the next level. The only way to do that is to play in tournaments in places that matter.

Naturally, the closest place to my corner of the world was Vegas—the gambling capital of North America. I had my eyes on Vegas for years. It's been a dream of mine to make it here and play since I was a kid.

I finally took the biggest gamble of my life, packed up my whole life, and moved here. I knew in my heart it was the only way to make it. It's the only way I'd honestly be happy. It's a risk, but it's one I had to take. I know I'd regret it if I didn't.

Am I scared? Yes. I'm terrified. If this all goes south, I have no one to run to here. Everyone I know is a country away. Yet, I am pushing that fear down.

After all, I'm good at hiding my emotions. You have to be to be a good poker player. You can't let anything slip through. You can't let anyone at that table know anything you're thinking.

You not only have to be stoned-faced, but you also have to learn to read other people. Which I also happen to be good at. It is a curse because no one can hide anything from me. I know right off the bat if they are up to something. It saves me a lot of trouble but makes it hard to find people to let into my life.

I'm playing in my first major tournament, which is coming up in the next few days. This will determine if I have what it takes to play with the big boys. I have faith that I can do it. After all, people consistently underestimate me. I doubt it will be any different here.

In the meantime, I still have a couple of days worth of work ahead of me. I took a job as a card dealer. That way, I can still pay the bills and make extra money if I don’t win immediately. It's a fun job; you can make extra money on tips.

I'm sitting in a restaurant alone, having lunch on my day off. I figured I had to start getting used to doing things alone. Plus, I felt like getting away from my apartment and trying to unpack my whole life. So I'm sitting here people-watching and waiting for my food. Trying to pretend I'm not lonely. At least no one can tell by my face.

I glance across the restaurant as three people sit at one of the empty tables. It's two older men and a woman. The two men look familiar to me. Like I know them from somewhere, but I can't place where.

One has long, shoulder-length dark hair and a dark goatee that matches. He also has an erring and wears a dark denim jacket, t-shirt and jeans.

The other one has longer hair. His is lighter blonde at the top but fades into a darker blonde at the bottom. It suits him well. He's wearing some bracelets on one wrist and a nice-looking watch on the other.

I don't know much about watches, but I've won some when people have gotten desperate. I always pawn them off for the money, except for the first one I ever won. It was my first game, so it meant a lot to me. That one I kept as a good luck charm. I’m always wearing it.

They look like they’re rock stars. So that's for sure how I recognized them. I just can't place what band or bands they are in. This is going to drive me insane.

———————————————————————

Eric's POV

“Now that kiss is over, have you considered trying to find someone again?” Lisa asked me as she read over her menu.

I think it's a known fact by every person I know I have the worst luck regarding women. Every relationship I've had has ended for one reason or another. Most of them don’t last more than a few months.

After a string of failures, you just kind of give up. I'm not someone who gives up quickly either, but sometimes you just have to accept it's not happening. You aren't going to have that life, even if you want it. There is no point in trying when you know how it will end; with the girl finding someone better or finding something about me, they can't get past it.

“Here we go again.” I sigh. I know Lisa means well, but we’ve had this conversation before.

“We’re just worried you might be lonely,” Lisa says.

I hate people worrying about me. I can handle myself just fine. I'm okay with being alone. I've accepted it, plus I'm not alone. I have friends and my cats.

I look over at Bruce.

“Can you make her stop worrying about me?”

“No, because I worry about you too,” Bruce admits.

“You don't need to. I'm fine,” I say, dismissing him. “If I wanted someone, I could find someone.”

That statement isn't completely true. I'm sure I could find someone; can I walk up to her and lay it on? No. I'm not that kind of guy. I can’t flirt to save my life. I completely lock up and just start rambling about something random. That turns off most women, to begin with.

“Really?” Lisa says, sounding unconvinced, “I don't think I've ever actually seen you chat up a girl before.”

“I've known him 30 years, Lisa, and I have never seen that.” Bruce agrees with his wife.

“What do I have to do to make this conversation stop?” I ask, groaning, “Do you have to witness me failing with a girl? Would that make it end?”

“We just care about you, Eric.” Lisa says, “I just don't want you to end up alone.”

“Stop being so cynical,” Bruce says, “Maybe me and I can help you find someone.”

“Do you have many single female friends I don't know about?” I ask sarcastically.

“Um,” Lisa says, looking around the restaurant, oh, I don't like where this is going.

“What about her?” Lisa said, looking over toward another person in the restaurant.

I glance over to see who she's looking at. There’s only one person it can be. A pretty young woman with dark hair. She's sitting alone and can't be older than twenty-five. There is no way this pretty young woman would want anything to do with me, an older man.

“If I go and talk to her, will you two quit it?” I ask; I already know how this is going to end. So I might as well get it over with to enjoy my lunch in peace.

“Yes,” Bruce says.

“Fine, I'll go talk to her, but I'm only doing it, so you two shut up,” I tell them as I get up and walk over to where she's sitting.

———————————————

Jewel’s POV

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the blonde guy getting out of his seat. Then I see him coming over towards me. Why is he coming over here? Oh my god. Maybe he noticed me looking at them? I wasn't staring; I was just trying to figure out who they were. I guess I'm about to find that out.

“Hey…..uh….nice watch.” He awkwardly says, pointing to the watch I wear for good luck.

“Thanks, I won it in a poker game,” I tell him, holding up my wrist.

“You won a 10,000-dollar Heuer watch in a poker game?” He asks me, sounding taken aback by that; it takes a second for what he just said to sink in.

Did he say that this watch I won in my first tournament, which I've been wearing daily, is worth 10,000 dollars?! What in the fuck- I mean, I knew the guy who lost it was drunk, but I didn't think he was that drunk. I've been wearing a 10,000-dollar watch as a good luck charm, thinking it was worth 1000 dollars at most.

“This watch is worth 10,000 dollars?!” I gasp in total shock.

“Yeah…wait, you didn't know that?” He says, looking intrigued by how I never knew that.

“I don't know anything about watches,” I admit,

“The guy who lost it to me placed it down as a last-ditch effort to stay in the game on an all-in worth about $500.” I explain, “I guess he was way more wasted than I thought.”

“He must have been, you got that watch for a fucking steal.” He says, looking astonished some guy would bet this watch on $500.

“If you know nothing about watches, why did you keep it?”

“Oh, it was my first major win, so I kept it to commemorate it,” I tell him, “It's kind of my good luck charm.”

“Well, you lucked out; that's also a hard watch to come by.” You can just tell Watches is this man's passion. He seems very knowledgeable, and his face lights up when discussing it. It's honestly cute.

This still doesn't solve the mystery of how I know him, though.

“I fucking guess so.” I laugh, “I guess I won more than I thought in that game; I'm Jewel, by the way.”

“I’m Eric.” He tells me with a smile, “Are you a professional poker player?”

Eric. Hmmmm. There are a lot of guys in rock named Eric. It doesn't narrow it down too well, yet I feel I'm getting closer. It's too bad he didn't give his last name.

“Well, yeah, kind of. I'm not at a high level yet, but I'm working towards it.” I tell him, “What do you do?”

“I’m a drummer, watch collector and sports nut.” He tells me.

Drummer. That's when it clicks. He's fucking Eric Singer of KISS. Fucking hell. I feel embarrassed it took me this long to put it together, considering they’ve been one of my favourite hands since I was a kid. In my defence, Paul is my favourite member.

“Oh, you’re Eric Singer! That's how I know you.” I say out loud, proud I figured that out by mistake. Jewel, that's an inside thought, you dumbass.

“Yeah, that's me.” He laughs.

“Can I ask you something?” I ask him.

“Sure,” Eric says.

“Who's the guy you with? I know him somehow, too, but I can't place him.”

“Oh, that's Bruce Kulick. He was in KISS probably before you were born.” Eric tells me,

“Oh god, that's embarrassing.” I confess, “Considering he's my favourite KISS guitarist.”

“He does look much different than he did back in the band.” Eric jokes, “So you’re a KISS fan and a poker played?”

“Yeah, that about sums me up. You’re just missing the fact that I’m Canadian.” I laugh.

“Oh really? Canada is a beautiful country; I bought this watch in Toronto. Did you come here to play poker?” He rambles in the cutest way possible.

“Yes, I did,” I tell him, “About two weeks ago.”

“Wow, you’re new to Vegas then. If you want, I can show you around sometime. I'm not from here either. I’m from Ohio but lived in Los Angeles for a long time; I loved here a few years ago, though.” Eric offers.

I don't know anyone here, plus who the hell would say no to Eric Singer showing you around Vegas? That's like some experience people would pay for. Plus, he's very friendly and talkative. So I’d probably learn some excellent stuff; I also like listening to him talk.

“Okay, I'd like that,” I smile at him.

“I’ll give you my number.” He smiles back.

“Okay, I'd love that,” I replied, taking out my phone so he could enter his number.

“Okay, I'll be right back.” He says, getting up and rushing back to his table with Bruce Kulick.

The woman at the table, who I assume is Lisa Kulick Bruce’s wife, reaches into her purse and hands him some paper and a pen. Then he quickly writes down what I'm thinking is his phone number.

“Here you go,” Eric says handing me his phone number on the piece of paper. I can't remember the last time someone gave me their phone number written down. It's so charming.

I tare off a corner of the paper and reach into it to my purse, grabbing a pen. I write down my new number, my American number, double checking in on my phone and hand it over to him.

“And here’s my number.”

“Thank you.” He smiles taking it from me, “Just call me and let me know when you'd like to meet.”

“I will,” I tell him, then he turns and walks back to his table. Just in time for my lunch to arrive.

Well, I've been here two weeks, and I managed to get Eric Singers' phone number without even trying. I'm looking forward to seeing him again. Maybe I'm not as alone as I think.

#eric singer #snack cake #swag master #time keeper #kiss fanfic #eric singer fanfic #kiss band #singer simps

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