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shellshocklove · 9 months

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i wanna be your lover | joel miller

pairing/AU: 70s!pornstar!joel miller x inexperienced!female reader

summary: miserable after losing your job, your friend drags you out to a club to dance away your sadness. on the dancefloor you meet a handsome stranger, who then whisks you away into his fantasy world as his assistant for his porn career. what happens when the lines get blurred?

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 23, joel is in his early 30s, swearing, misogyny (bc of the times™), accuracies and inaccuracies about the 70s, drinking of alcohol, smoking of cigarettes (it’s the 70s alright), mentions of a bad previous sexual encounter and losing your virginity, use of pet names, porn (obviously lmao), sextoys, only one bed, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!), no use of y/n

a/n: i had fun with this one, but it turned out to be longer than i first intended. i hope people will like it still! also big thank you to @dustydaddyyy, for proofreading this

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3

Under a pink and orange Los Angeles sky, your platforms clicked against the sidewalk. Day left an hour ago, dipping behind the green hills of Laurel Canyon. Walking down The Strip, arms linked with your friend Deborah, the street bustled in the awakening night. Music spilled from clubs and bars, seducing the dressed-up crowd passing by this Friday night.

“Do a little dance, make a little love,”

“This,” Deborah emphasized, coming to a stop outside a club, “is exactly what you need tonight to get your mind off everything.”

She clutched your arm tighter to her body, almost like she was afraid you’d run off, and maybe she had good reason to think you would. You weren’t exactly in the right mood to party. Only a few hours ago, you’d gotten fired from your job. Three years as Mr. Cooper’s personal assistant down the drain.

Mr. Cooper was the creative director, and one of the partners at the advertisement agency where you’d worked. He was an important man, and he’d dealt with all kinds of clients on a daily basis. For you, it had been a learning curve of a job. You had no prior experience as a personal assistant, and it had been intimidating.

You’d only just moved to the City of Angels when you’d gotten the job. With next to no money, having left behind your family and your small town, you were desperate for a job. When you’d seen the ad in the newspaper, left behind on the table of a café near your apartment, you’d stepped out on the sidewalk immediately to find a payphone. During the interview Mr. Cooper had looked you up and down and scowled as he’d read your resume. You’d shrank in your seat under his gaze, but even with your lacking resume, Mr. Cooper had hired you on the spot.

Later, during your first full week at your new job, you’d come to discover why Mr. Cooper had hired you so quickly – he’d been desperate for a new assistant. Overhearing some of the other ladies whispering to each other during lunch, you’d been able to piece together exactly why. Apparently, Mr. Cooper and his former personal assistant had been having an affair. He’d gotten her pregnant and wanted nothing to do with her or the baby – he was a married man after all. This was where the story had gotten hazy, and the grape vine sang different songs. One version of the story said he’d forced her to get an abortion and riddled with grief over the dead baby and their failing relationship, she’d quit her job and moved back to her parents in Maine. While the other version of the story said that, rightfully angry at Mr. Cooper for not taking any responsibility over their situation, she’d gone to visit his wife at home to tell her about what’s been going on. Which story was the truth, you don’t know. What you did know, was that Mr. Cooper was still married, and his previous assistant was no longer working for him.

Even if the job had been intimidating at first, you’d quickly gotten used to it. You stayed on top of everything: Mr. Copper’s clients, his calls, his schedule. Ordered flowers for his wife, and even sent boxes of chocolates to his various paramours. You’d made sure the bar in his office was always stacked with his favorite bourbon, and most importantly: you’d made sure to be seen and not heard. It’s what he told you, in the job interview, that he wanted.

You had thought you were doing a good job, but clearly, Mr. Cooper had been laboring under a different impression…

Your day had started like every other day – normal. You’d arrived at work fifteen minutes before Mr. Cooper, like always. Dutifully greeting him with a sweet “Good morning, sir!” at your desk, and served him his morning coffee minutes later. The day continued like normal, occupied with calls and speaking to clients, you had no idea what shocking message you’d receive at the end of your day.

Outside the club, you gave Deborah a meek smile which faded when you saw the line snaking its way down the street, “Sure, but… we’ll never get in.”

“Get down tonight, get down tonight,”

The words of KC And The Sunshine Band traveled through the open club door, the music filled the warm summer air.

“Don’t worry, babes!” she beamed, “I know the owner.” With an overdramatic wink and a giggle, she pulled you towards the bouncer.

“Baby, baby, I'll meet you, same place, same time,”

“How exactly do you know the owner of this place?” you queried, as you passed through the door of the club while the music got louder and louder.

“Where we can get together, and ease up our mind,”

“Let’s just say we had a weekend together…,” she giggled, “and I got to know him very… intimately.”

Your eyes widened at her implications, and Deborah giggled even louder.

“Don’t look so surprised!” she laughed, “I’m all about free love,” she joked, putting up a peace sign.

A heat burned your cheeks. Still, after three years in LA you needed to constantly remind yourself that you weren’t in your small rural hometown anymore. No one was going to arrest you for talking about sex. Nevertheless, the habit was hard to shake, and the roots of the rules you’d grown up with – the ones that had taught you to be the perfect student and the perfect daughter – stayed embedded in your mind.

“So…” Deborah started, her back against the bar while she took her first sip of her Apple Martini. She’d ordered you some fruity cocktail you’d never had before that she swore you’d like. “What exactly did that sad excuse of a man say to you when he fired you?”

With a scrunch of your nose, you turned your attention to your drink, taking a sip. It tasted sugary, but fresh, one of those dangerous drinks where you couldn’t taste the alcohol.

“Let’s not talk about it?” you sighed, shooting Deborah another meek smile.

She returned your smile, but it was full of pity. “You’re right! Let’s not– Let’s forget that fucker,” she said, taking a generous sip of her drink, “you’ll easily get a new job! I know it!” she smiled.

Not soon after Deborah had finished her first drink, a man interrupted your conversation. The man was tall, with black wild hair, pork chops and a matching mustache. He was wearing a flower-patterned shirt tucked into a pair of brown bell-bottoms. The top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, revealing dark chest hair and a gold chain. He wasn’t bad looking.

His hand on Deborah’s back didn’t seem to bother her, quite the opposite, she jumped excitedly, throwing her hands around his neck in greeting. You couldn’t hear what he whispered in her ear over the music, but it made her laugh.

“This is Tommy! He owns the club,” Deborah introduced you.

With a friendly smile, you shook Tommy’s hand and introduced yourself. His grip was firm, not like those people that made shaking their hand feel like gripping a dead fish. You decided that it was a good sign.

“So– are ya enjoyin’ yourselves, ladies?” he asked with a charming smile.

“Oh, yes!” Deborah smiled, her painted nails landing on his bicep, “But I think we’d enjoy ourselves even more after another drink.”

With a knowing smile and an easy laugh, Tommy ushered the bartender closer. “’nother round for these two beautiful ladies,” he ordered, “and… they’re drinkin’ on the house for the rest of the night,” he added, sending Deborah a wink.

The bartender served you your second drink just as Tommy convinced Deborah to dance with him. Quickly, she downed her Apple Martini before she turned to you, guilt written all over her face.

“You okay by yourself for a little bit?”

“Yeah– sure!” you nodded, “Go have fun!”

With a sorry smile and a promise to be right back, Deborah left you at the bar, dragged out on the dancefloor by Tommy.

Left to your own devices, you still felt a little awkward. This was supposed to be a girls night. Pushing off the bar, you turned to lean your back against it. You bopped your head to the music, trying to not look so out of place. In your hands, your drink was slippery from the condensation around the glass. Out on the dancefloor, the crowd looked like it moved in slow motion through the blinking lights, bodies twisting their hips and grooving to the beat. You took another sip.

It’s a strange feeling, feeling so alone, while surrounded by a crowd of people. To your, a couple gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes as they passed a cigarette back and forth, a ribbon of smoky white, clouded them in a love fog. They leaned closer, sharing a kiss. You quickly averted your eyes, desperate for something else to rest your eyes on.

Instead, they fell on a man.

You locked eyes with him from across the room. Clad in tight denim he sat casually in a booth in the corner, legs spread slightly. His hand was wrapped around a whisky glass, with a cigarette pinched between his fingers. With a shy smile, you quickly looked away again, eyes back to watching the bodies on the dancefloor. You took another sip of your drink, trying to act casual.

He wasn’t watching you, was he? Why would he? No one usually looked at you twice.

You were no good at this. Flirting. You were painfully awful at it to be completely honest. Too shy to be sexy, and never interesting enough, or pretty enough for a second date.

Your experience with dating didn’t really go further than the few dates you’d gone on with John, from accounting. He’d acted so sweet: opened doors for you, held out your chair, kissed you at your doorstep at the end of the night. He had been a dream. Then on your third date, he’d invited you back to his place for a nightcap. One thing led to another, and soon you were laying under him as he thrusted inside you. It was your first time – and he hadn’t known. It had hurt so much; you’d turned your face away so he wouldn’t see your tears. After, he’d called you a cab, not bothering to even kiss you goodbye. In the office the next day, he’d pretended like you’d never even existed: no more tender kisses, no more door opening, no more smiles. Your dream had turned into a nightmare.

He’d pulled you aside during lunch and told you it wouldn’t work out between the two of you. You were just such different people. You’d deflated like a balloon at his words, sinking into your chair as you watched him walk down the corridor back to his cubicle. To make matters worse you’d overheard him say, to some of his colleges by the watercooler, how awful in bed you’d been. It had been humiliating. And now, every time you as much as attempted to flirt with someone, a bell of shame rang in your ears.

The man couldn’t have looked at you. He’d for sure only looked in the direction of the bar. But something burned your cheek, and you couldn’t fight your eyes from trailing back in his direction.

Dark hair and a tidy mustache. Lips pulled up into a cheeky smile as you locked eyes with him again. He took a drag of his cigarette, and the fire lit up his handsome face. You felt something pool in your stomach. His gaze still on you as he exhaled, challenging you with a raised eyebrow. Again, your cheeks burned, and you had to look away. Suddenly, your own platform shoes looked extremely interesting.

“I remember when rock was young, me and Susie had so much fun,”

The sound of Elton John was the perfect distraction from the alluring stranger. You were sure that if you looked back at him again, you’d only embarrass yourself. You always did. Slurping up the rest of your drink, you pushed off the bar, and headed towards the dancefloor.

“Holding hands and skimming stones. Had an old gold Chevy, and a place of my own,”

Moving your hips to the beat you vanished in the bodies. And soon you were “hopping and bopping” to the Crocodile Rock, singing loudly along with the crowd to “Laa, la-la-la-la-laa”.

The air was clammy and stuffy, and sweat clung to your skin, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to care. You were here to leave your shitty day behind. To dance it away. You moved through the crowd; a smile bright on your face while your feet couldn’t stay still. The handsome stranger in the booth, already forgotten.

As the song faded out, a new song faded in. It was slower. A slightly erotic, but melodic guitar filled the room, accompanied by a luring salsa rhythm. You slowed down your dancing. It felt like you were threading through water.

“Ain't got nobody that I can depend on. Ain't got nobody that I can depend on,”

A pair of hands landed on your hips, making you jump. Behind you, you heard the deep chuckle of a man.

“Relax, darlin’,” he whispered in your ear, moving your hips in time with his.

You leaned back against his body; head tipped back against his broad chest to get a look at the man. Your stranger from the booth. He wore a cocky smirk, but he didn’t come across as full of himself. He was confident. Confident in the way he held your body – big hands splayed over your hips. Confident in the way he danced, like he knew exactly what he was doing, and he did.

“Ain't got no one (no tengo a nadie). That I know of (no tengo a nadie). That I can depend on (no tengo a nadie),”

You let him move your body, turning you around to take your hand in his, pulling you closer to his chest. He smelled like cigarettes and cologne. He’d been watching you, you realized, not the bar. Interested enough in you to follow you out on the dancefloor. It intimidated you, but under the intimidation it also excited you.

He led your movements. You were no dancer, but he made it so easy, spinning you around with ease before pulling you back towards his body. The eye contact was intense, like he was searching for your soul. Santana’s wailing guitar and the stranger’s hand at your waist was the only thing grounding you to the moment.

“I ain't got nobody, that I can depend on (no tengo a nadie),”

The song reached its climactic end. The man spun you one last time before he pulled you tight against his chest. It was like the song’s ending had broken a spell over the two of you, the air of sensuality was gone, and replaced by his genuine smile and breathy laugh.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked you over the funky bassline of Eagles’ One of These Nights.

Wide-eyed, “Please,” was the only thing you could utter.

With a hand resting at the small of your back he led you through the crowd towards the bar, where he got the bartender’s attention immediately.

“An Old Fashioned for me Doug, and…” he looked towards you with a smile.

“Um… a Tequila Sunrise?” you said with a shy smile.

“A Tequila Sunrise, for this beautiful lady,” he told the bartender.

Grabbing one of the bar stools he sat down and gestured for you to do the same. You’d just about sat down before he leaned forward, grabbed a hold of your stool, and pulled you closer to him. A squeal escaped you before it turned into a giddy laugh.

“Thank you, Doug!” he told the bartender when he returned with your drinks.

“On a first name basis with the bartender– you here often?” you asked him, taking a sip of your drink.

“Not as often as I’d liked– it’s my lil’ brother’s club,” he told you, taking a sip of his own drink.

“You’re Tommy’s brother?” you wondered with a frown, a little shocked.

“You know Tommy?” he asked, equally shocked.

You shrugged, “Yes– well… not really.”

He took another sip of his drink, eyes urging you to go on.

“I met him earlier– he’s… well,” you didn’t know how to explain it, “I’m here with my friend Deborah, and I guess her and Tommy are…” you trailed off.

“Fuckin’?” he finished for you, grin wide on his face.

You only nodded, swallowing down another sip of your drink.

“Yeah, I’ve heard all about Deborah…” he trailed off with a look on his face like he knew a secret, “… but nothing about her beautiful friend.”

You huffed out a laugh and turned your head, heat traveling up your neck to your cheeks, “I’m not sure there’s much to know.”

“How about your name?” he suggested.

You turned back to look at him, really look at him.

Had Deborah set him up for this?

You wouldn’t put it past her if she had. She was always urging you to go out with her. To clubs, to parties in The Hills, on double dates. You wanted to go, you really did, but a voice in the back of your head always held you back. You’d thought moving to LA would be the remedy. All alone in a big city would surely help you come out of your shell, right? The harsh reality had been that LA hadn’t magically fixed you. You’d thought you’d be a completely different person here, but you’d packed your insecurities in your baggage. The only person who was gonna help you out of your shell, you’d started to realize… was you.

Putting on a brave face, disguised as a friendly smile, you gave him your name. The man was silent for a moment, nodding as he brought his lips to the rim of his glass again, taking another sip of his drink. It made you hold your breath.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said eventually with an easy grin. His compliment sent a warmth to your cheeks, while you fought an urge to squinch your face with embarrassment.

After a second of silence, you raised a brave eyebrow at him, “What about your name? Or shall I just call you Tommy’s brother?”

He chuckled lightly, eyes glinting, before he cleared his throat, “Name’s Joel.”

“Joel,” you repeated with a nod, making his cocky smile wider. Tasting his name on your tongue, you decided it sounded pleasant on your lips.

“So– you’re Deb’s friend?” Joel started, to which you confirmed with a nod. “How come she’s never brought you ‘round before?” he wondered with a sip of his drink.

You gave him a relaxed shrug, “I’m not much of a drinker– if I’m honest.”

He leaned forward, like he was about to whisper a secret to you, “You are aware of the fact that you’re in a club, aren’t you?” he teased.

Your mouth dropped open before you playfully rolled your eyes at him, “Shut up,” you said, “I’m not usually much of a drinker… at least not without good reason.”

“So, what’s the good reason?” Joel asked, raising a single eyebrow, “Boyfriend dumped ya?”

“Boss dumped me, actually…” you corrected, “I got fired.”

Joel sucked some air between his teeth, “Ouch… you better get another drink, then.” He turned his body towards the bar to casually raise a hand, getting the attention of Doug.

You let out a scoffing laugh, shaking your head at his teasing tone, “Maybe I will.”

As you finish your Tequila Sunrise, Joel ordered you another one, and one for himself. You felt hot to the touch. The alcohol coursed through your body like liquid courage, it traveled through your bloodstream, greasing the part of yourself where your confidence laid dormant.

“What did you work as?” he asked, sipping his own Tequila Sunrise.

“I am–was…” you corrected, “a personal assistant.”

“A good one?” Joel wondered.

Taking a large sip of your drink, you tried to swallow down your failure.

“You’d have to ask my boss,” you breathed out.

“The one that fired ya?” he returned with a cocky smile, and you fought an urge to roll your eyes.

Sitting up a little straighter you narrowed your eyes at him, “What do you do, then? If you’re so good at your job?”

“Never said I was good at it,” he shrugged, cocky grin not going anywhere.

“You gonna make me ask you again?” you deadpanned, your shyness shedding with every sip of your drink.

Joel looked amused, like he was in on a secret only he knew. You continued to stare at him, raising a challenging eyebrow at his continued silence.

“I’m an actor,” he confessed.

You couldn’t hide the impressed look that crossed your face. Sure, you’d been in LA for three years, he wasn’t the first actor you’d met, and he for sure wouldn’t be the last, but it was something about the way he said it.

“A good one?” you used his own words against him, making him chuckle.

He took another sip of his drink, “I’d like to think so,” he smiled, looking at you over the rim of his glass.

“Anything I’d know?” you wondered, watching him put his glass down.

The corners of his mouth twitched into what looked like an ironic smirk, “God, I kinda of hope not,” he said, eyes trailing the scratches and dents in the dark wood of the bar.

You both went quiet, as you sipped your drinks. You’d started to wonder if you’d maybe said something wrong, when Joel cleared his throat.

“Not to mix business with pleasure–” he started, turning towards you, mouth twitching again at the innuendo, “but I happen to be looking for an assistant.”

“Oh, really?” you deadpanned, convinced he was pulling your leg.

“You don’t believe me?” he breathed out a chuckle.

“Let’s see: a strange man dances with me in a club,” you held up a finger, “then buys me a drink, then offers me a job? I may not be from around here, but I’m not stupid enough to believe that one.” You laughed with a shake of your head.

As you laughed, it hit you how easily you found it to jest with Joel. Usually, you were the quiet one. The one observing or just listening, always too shy to joke freely, especially with people you didn’t know, but somehow, in this moment you felt free. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was getting fired. Or maybe… it was Joel.

“Well, believe it or not, I ain’t fibbin’… it really depends on how much you need a job,” he took another sip of his drink.

“I just got fired,” you said matter of factly.

Joel gave you an infuriatingly innocent shrug, “Then you better start believing me when I say I’m looking for an assistant.”

You couldn’t do anything other than scoff in disbelief. “So what?” you asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow, “You’re just gonna offer me a job after knowing me for barely an hour? No interview or nothing?”

“Do I need to be interviewin’ ya?” he wondered innocently.

“It’s a job!” you spluttered, “You always interview people before you give them a job!”

He gave you a nonchalant shrug. “Then I guess I will… so what can you tell me about yourself? What makes you a good assistant?” he asked, tone genuine as he placed an elbow on the bar counter and rested his head in his hand.

“I don’t mean now!” you let out in a nervous squeak, and Joel seemed to enjoy the way you shifted nervously in your seat.

He shrugged, “Alright then… you got time for coffee? Say… tomorrow mornin’?”

Ten to ten the next morning you met Joel for coffee.

Wanting to give him a good and professional impression – he could be your new employer after all – you’d worn your brown three pieced suit with a purple paisley shirt under your suit vest. It made you feel strong– well usually, right now you couldn’t seem to shake the pre-interview nerves… Anyway, you were hoping your outfit would make Joel think you had your shit together – at least put together enough for him to hire you.

With eyes scanning the café, you found him at a table by the window, smoking a cigarette. When you approached him, heels clicking against the hardwood floor, he checked his watch.

“Ten minutes early!” he remarked with a grin.

“Reliability and punctuality are good qualities in a new employee, I’ve heard.” You shot him a shy smile before you placed your bag on the floor by your chair.

He hummed, watching you with an easy smile as you sat down opposite him while shedding your jacket. The white smoke danced in front of his face like coiling ribbons. Clad in a striped polo with a Johnny collar he’d tucked into a pair of Levi’s jeans, he relaxed in his chair, shifting slightly, and spreading his legs wider. The movement, like a reflex, drew your eyes to his lower half. His Levi’s were tight, held in place by a big western belt buckle, but it wasn’t his belt buckle that caught your attention.

“So…” he started. His voice startled you, and you flicked your eyes back to his face. His playful smile told you he’s caught you checking him out. Embarrassed, you looked past him, not daring to make eye contact as you fought the urge to cringe.

“How are ya?” he took another drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out the side of his mouth.

“I’m–I’m good thank you,” you gave him a nervous smile, the confidence from last night gone with the rise of the sun, “how are you?”

“I’m good too, sweetheart,” he nodded, “wanna have this interview…? Or should I just tell you now you’re hired?”

Perplexed, your eyebrows met in a furrow, “What do you mean?”

“Honey, I already decided last night I’d hire you,” he grinned with another drag of his cigarette.

“I–… I mean are you sure?” you stuttered, “I brought my resume and references and everything– don’t you want to take a look at them?” you wondered, a hand dropping to your bag to fish out your newly typed resume and references. You tapped the papers against the table before placing them neatly in front of him.

Retracting your hands, you rested them in your lap, while you watched him. He placed his cigarette in his mouth before he picked up your resume. His eyes scanned the paper, his head nodding slightly.

“Graduated high school in 1970… A year as a cashier at Piggly Wiggly…” he started listing, his cigarette dipping with each word, “A year at Greasy Motors?”.

“Um– yes!” you peeped, “It’s my uncle’s garage shop– I worked as their secretary,” you told him, picking at the skin around your nails.

“You any good with cars?” he asked, one eyebrow raised as he took one last drag of his cigarette.

“No–No not really… I just spoke to the customers, answered the phone and stuff like that.”

You’d wanted to learn some of the basics, but you’d quickly given up. None of the guys had taken you seriously, and they had made sure to let you know where your place was – it was not with your hands deep in an engine.

Joel hummed at your answer and stubbed out his cigarette. “And Mr. Cooper’s the one that fired ya?” he asked.

You gave him a short nod. Your pointer finger burned with pain as you pulled at a piece of skin you’d picked loose around your nail.

“Why?”,

“The honest answer?” you sighed, and he nodded.

“I don’t know,” you told him, “he just called me into his office at the end of the day and told me he was gonna have to let me go– I was honestly too shocked to ask him why.”

“Oof,” Joel frowned.

“Yeah,” you sighed, you didn’t know what else to say.

“Well… you’ve given me a great impression, both last night and right now, so you’ve got the job, sweetheart– if you want it.” He leaned back in his chair, letting your resume fall from his hands.

“It can’t be that easy, can it?” the words fell from your lips before you had time to think. Joel raised a curious eyebrow at you. “I mean what’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch.”

He seemed to think about it for a beat, “Unless there is…” Joel’s lips tugged at the corners as he leaned over the table, “Remember I said I was an actor?” he asked, eyes boring into yours.

You gave him a skeptical nod.

“I’m an adult actor…” he lowered his voice, “You understand?” he asked before he leaned back in his seat again.

An adult actor. Your eyes widened with realization.

“Wait… you mean,” you looked around you before you leaned forward over the table like he’d just done, “you’re a pornstar?” you whispered, feeling your cheeks start to burn with embarrassment.

“Is that a problem for you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Was it? Was it a problem for you?

The question tugged at the back of your neck. Tugged on your childhood, on your upbringing. You’d escaped; had your own apartment now, made your own money. You were trying to come into your own, to finally be your own person.

With teeth digging into your bottom lip, you looked at Joel. He watched you expectantly, head tipping slightly to the right as he studied you. There was no malice in his eyes, and nothing about him seemed grimy or obscene… Nothing about him screamed pornstar. If someone like him could do something so… unusual, for a job, maybe wasn’t so bad.

“No,” you decided, “it’s not a problem.”

“Groovy!” he grinned, “I’ll have my manager draw up a contract for you.”

And just like that you were officially Joel Miller’s, aka the infamous Joel Packer, personal assistant.

Joel sat on the tiled steps outside his house, smoking a cigarette, when you pulled up to the curb. He perked up when he saw you, grabbing his worn leather duffel bag before he waltzed down his driveway.

“Cab for Miller?” you joked through the rolled down window, ducking your head to peek up at him.

He chuckled at your joke, pinching his cigarette between two fingers for one last drag, before putting it out with a twist of his shoe. The smog laid low over LA this morning, like a blanket. It was gonna be a long day, and a long drive.

Letting out a small grunt, Joel got in your car. The smell of cigarettes and cologne – the smell of him – filled the space between you. He twisted around tossing his duffel bag into the backseat, and your eyes couldn’t help but land on his bicep, watching the way his muscles flexed under the weight. You felt a sudden urge to roll down the window a little further.

When he turned back around, the smooth wood of your steering wheel looked extremely interesting.

“Thanks for drivin’, sweetheart. My car’s still in the shop for ‘nother few days.”

The corner of your mouth twisted into a small smile, “No problem, Joel.”

“Are we all set?” he breathed out his question before his hands landed on his thighs with a dull smack!

“Um, yes, it’s just…” you turned to look at him. He was dressed casually in jeans and a Steely Dan concert tee – All-American Tour ’74 – with his yellow tinted pilot sunglasses tucked into his neckline.

“Just what, sweetheart?”,

“I picked up a package for you– it’s in the backseat,” you cocked your head in the direction.

“What is it?” he twisted back around, one hand searching for the cardboard box behind his seat.

Even in the smoldering LA heat, you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks heat up. “Um… it’s your package.”

“Yeah, I got that, honey– but what is it?” he asked again, twisting his hand back and placing the cardboard box in his lap.

You let out a small whine, “Don’t make me say it Joel– it’s your package.” You gestured a hand over your nether region.

Joel looked at you with a mischievous smile spreading across his face, “Oh, now I really wanna hear you say it,” he teased, hooking his finger under the tape.

“It’syourdick,” you said quickly, “–the dildo.”

In another step towards furthering Joel Packer’s success, he’d been asked to model for a sextoy. It’s no surprise he’d been asked. With the women’s liberation movement gaining more and more followers every day, more women had been exploring their own sexuality. Joel was popular with both men and women. He was like a chameleon when it came to porn. He knew just what to give, whether that would be hardcore porn, tossing his scene partners around and making them come until they couldn’t anymore; or doing full frontal nudity for a centerfold for Playgirl.

With a drag of the tape, Joel laughed, his shoulders shaking. “I can’t believe you’re still shy about that stuff, sweetheart. You’ve been workin’ for me for how long now, huh? And you still can’t say dick to my face– what do you say to my business partners? Wiener?”

“I’m not shy,” you denied rather unconvincingly, making him shoot you an unimpressed look making you flutter. “I don’t know… it’s just different saying it to you!”

“Why?” he asked, pulling out the box with the dildo he’d modeled for.

Your eyes followed his hands, running over the pink packaging, the handsome photo they’d used of him on the front.

“I-I don’t know… it just is.”

A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth as he hummed – not convinced. Instead, he opened the box, pulling out the sextoy. The company had sent him one before they’d hit the shelves at the end of the month. They were being advertised in Playgirl first – to build up the hype. The sextoy looked exactly like him, and at the same time, nothing like him. The size and shape were true to life (8 inches like they’d advertised on the box), but the color was wrong.

“This is so fuckin’ weird,” he laughed, turning it in his hand, “’s this what I look like?”

“The color looks wrong,” you pointed out. He looked over at you for a beat and then back to the sextoy.

“’s a little… plastic-y,” he commented, “and weird lookin’ without the balls…”

He put the dildo back in the box before he handed it to you. You shook your head and turned the car key, “Just put it back in the backseat.”

“No, ‘s not what I meant,” he nudged your arm with the box, “you have it.”

You were glad the car stood still because the shock of his words would’ve made you get in a car accident.

“Why?” you said, a little flustered.

“Exactly what do women do with a dildo, I wonder?” he teased, nudging your arm again.

“No, Joel, that’s just weird– you’re my boss.” You nudged him back before you put the car in drive.

“You prefer the real thing, then?” a teasing lilt still wrapped around his words.

“Shut up,” you huffed, focusing on driving instead.

“I’m just messin’, sweetheart!” he laughed and threw the box messily behind him.

Leaning forward, Joel pushed the play button on your car radio. The cassette deck whirled before a twangy sound of piano filled your car as you started cruising down the road. A few seconds later Joni Mitchell sang the opening lines of the title track ‘Court and Spark’.

“I need you in charge of the map,” you broke the silence between you after a few minutes, “I don’t know where the house is.”

He opened your glove compartment, pulling out your map of California. You focused on the road while he studied the map.

“Looks like we need to get on the 101– it should take about three hours, Ronald said.”

You hummed. Ronald was Joel’s manager. He’d represented Joel for as long as Joel’s been in porn. Ronald was sleazy, and gross, and you tried to only be in his presence when it was absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, for you, Ronald was a good manager, and the reason why Joel Packer was as popular a pornstar as he was.

“When we get to Pismo Beach we’ll just stop and ask around for the address.” Joel said, folding the map.

Usually, Ronald was the one who came along to set with Joel. His reasoning being that there was business to attend to, and that he was supportive of his client, but you knew the real (pervy) reason. You on the other hand had only come along to set a few times. Quick to embarrassment, you’d quickly hid yourself away in Joel’s dressing room, claiming you had work you’d neglected to do.

This time, Ronald couldn’t make it because of scheduling conflicts. Joel was gonna go alone, but then his car had broken down on the 405. He needed a ride, and who else to ask other than the person he paid to help him out. The shoot was taking place at a beach house somewhere in Pismo Beach. You’d never been to Pismo Beach before, and neither had Joel. The booking agent had told you it was nice enough and secluded. Perfect for shooting a porno without bringing too much attention.

Three hours later, you and Joel arrived at the shoot. The beach house was busy and filled with people working like ants to get the film set ready. The shoot was scheduled to last for one day, and as the time flew past 10am, you were starting to get short on time.

As soon as you stepped inside, they ushered Joel straight to make-up and wardrobe. Careful not to be in anybody’s way, you took a look around the house. It was beautiful. Newly built, not more than ten years old you guessed, and right on the beach. Warm wood tones lined the walls and floors, and on the ceilings, sturdy beams met in the middle. A leather couch with matching chairs was turned towards the big floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the beach, and a cowhide rug decorated the floor. They’d set up a step ladder by the windows, all ready for the first scene.

You found Joel a moment later in one of the bedrooms sitting, in a chair as he got his make-up done. You noticed he’d already changed into his costume. A pair of overalls with nothing underneath, and a toolbelt hanging from his hips.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he greeted, his eyes trailing your body.

“Hi,” you smiled, “How you feeling? Can I get you anything?”

He looked at you, a pregnant pause passing between the two of you, “No, not right now.”

“Oh, okay!” you nodded, teeth catching your bottom lip, “Just let me know if there’s anything.”

You moved over to the bed where his clothes were spewed across the bedding. Trying to make yourself useful, you picked them up to fold them.

“D’you know if Tess is ready?” you heard him ask.

Tess was Joel’s scene partner for the day, and also his most frequent scene partner. They’d been in more films together over the past years than you could count, their chemistry always electric. Everything they did was just hot, and this time would be no exception. Tess was playing a neglected housewife all alone in her big beach house until carpenter Joel arrived to help her feel less alone with his tool(s).

“Um, no… I haven’t seen her at all– but I can go find out if you want?” you said, placing his folded t-shirt neatly on the bed.

“No, bless your heart, it’s okay,” he spoke slowly, watching the make-up artist pack up her things before telling him he’s all set.

Left alone with Joel he spoke again, “You gonna watch today?”

His question kicked your heart into gear, stuttering along like a teenager who can’t drive stick. “I-I don’t know yet,” you folded his jeans, “… do you want me to?”

You felt him move closer, but he didn’t answer you. Gathering your courage, you met his eyes. He was watching you with a soft look in his eye, a look he’d sent you more and more often lately.

Grabbing your wrist, his calloused fingers like a warm bracelet, he took his jeans from your hand and placed them down next to his t-shirt.

“I’d like that.”

He said it with a smile, and you couldn’t do anything other than nod.

Joel had started to make you feel lots of things lately. Warm fuzzy feelings bubbled under your skin, just like the warmth from his hand on your wrist right now. Joel was a flirt, cocky and confident. Your complete opposite. You weren’t as shy as you’d been at the start of your job, but you couldn’t help but still be shy around Joel sometimes. Especially when he smiled at you the way he was right now, or when you felt his touch on your body.

The first scene they shot was the intro. A cheesy scene where Joel got invited into Tess the housewife’s home. One too many innuendos about ‘tools’ later, you’d slipped away before lunch time to find the catering table, fixing up a plate for Joel and one for yourself. After lunch, the fun began as the director had said.

“Hey, sweetheart?” Joel’s fingers brushed over the back of your arm, getting your attention. You were about to go sit in his director’s chair, to watch as you’d promised.

“Yeah, Joel?” you looked at him through your lashes, your face curious. You tried very hard to keep them on his face, and not to let them wander to the outline of his hard cock through his overalls.

“Could you go get me some lube?” he asked you, eyes pleading.

“Oh! Um–” you nervously perked up, “Yes, of course,” you nodded, turning around yourself on the spot like you were already on the lookout.

“Thanks!” His hand landed on your shoulder, turning you to focus back on him, fingers rubbed over the material of your shirt. He was smiling at you, a small glint in his eye as he took you in. It made something inside you flutter, your eyes eclipsing over.

“OK guys! Quiet on set!” the director called, pulling you and Joel from your moment. His hand fell from your shoulder, a sorry smile draped across his face.

Slipping away, you went on a hunt for lube. When you came back you were met with the deep grunts of Joel as he got his cock sucked. He was fully naked, standing at the edge of the bed with Tess naked and dutifully on her knees for him – pleasuring him to heaven by the looks of it.

“There you go, baby,” he praised Tess, his big hand entangled in her hair as he pushed himself deeper down her throat. “You like sucking cock, don’t you? Like cheating on your husband like the dirty fuckin’ whore you are, huh?”

You knew he was just reading off his lines, but he said them like he hadn’t practiced at all, it was all so natural. Stumbling backwards towards his director’s chair, you sat down. You felt drawn to the scene before you, caught up in the moment, in the sounds of Joel’s moans and Tess’ spluttering around his cock. Never had you allowed yourself to watch him this openly before – it sent an electric pulse to your core.

Tess gave him head for a few minutes more, filth and praises fell from Joel’s mouth as the cameraman dutifully got every angle. Mesmerized by the scene playing out before you, a small pit started to form in your stomach – a mixture of pleasure and… jealousy. You shifted in the chair at the thought of you on your knees for him instead, pleasuring him and pulling those moans from his lips. Wondering if the praising words he told Tess, would sound different if it was you he told them to instead. You didn’t realize how caught up in the sight in front of you until you heard someone call your name.

It was Joel.

Shaking yourself from your fantasy daydreaming, you pulled yourself together. They’d changed positions while the cameraman changed the film. Joel was now sat on his knees on the bed with his cock standing to attention. On her back, he had Tess’ legs parted and splayed open in front of him.

Why was he talking to you?

He called your name again, figuring you hadn’t heard him over the humming of conversation now filling up the set. You hopped off the chair and nervously scurried over to him.

“What’s up?” you whispered. Your eyes were glued to his face, not daring to glide them even an inch downwards.

He hooked his fingers around your thumb. On his face he was wearing the widest grin, “Could you grab me some water?”

His touch sent your brain into overdrive, your eyes blinking around his question, “Y-yes– I’ll be right back.” His touch fell, and you scurried away to find him some water before they started filming again.

Back, and with a bottle of water in your hand you allowed yourself one quick look at his naked body. His broad chest, the way his muscles moved underneath his tan skin. Your eyes raked over his body, down his stomach, trailing the happy trial down to his impressive cock.

“Okay, everybody– we’re all set!” The loud voice of the director made you jump. Joel handed back the bottled water, a rough hand wiping the corner of his mouth.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

If he’d clocked you checking him out, he didn’t show it. Instead, he got ready while you made your way back to his director’s chair. Tess said something you couldn’t quite catch, but it got his attention. He grinned from ear to ear, a quick look in your direction, before he playfully shook his head at her.

The next scene had you squirming in your seat.

With his head between her legs, Joel used both his mouth and fingers to pleasure her – and Tess was clearly enjoying herself. Her hands were digging into his hair, pushing him greedily down onto her pussy. High pitched, pornographic moans and whimpers escaped her. Joel was clearly enjoying himself too, moaning and groaning into her pussy as he ate her out greedily, making sure to pull every ounce of pleasure from her.

Tess came with a cry, withering breathlessly as she squirmed in Joel’s hold. He held her shaking legs in a tight grip, not letting up his licking and sucking until he’d pulled another orgasm from her. With a breathless laugh she pushed him away, big wide smile spreading as he peppered kisses to the inside of her thigh. You shifted slightly in your seat. An unmistakable wetness had gathered in your panties. You crossed your leg over the other, subtly.

With a tap to her thigh Joel encouraged Tess to turn over. He sat up, resting back on his heels as he stroked his cock languidly. Tess moved onto all fours, arching her back and putting herself on display for him. The camera moved in closer, a watchful eye, as Joel ran a finger through her folds.

“So wet for me, baby,” he said, replacing his fingers with the head of his cock. “This pussy’s been neglected, hasn’t it? ‘s just dying to be fucked.”

He thrusted inside her, burying himself in her pussy, moans and groans falling from both their lips. You felt the air stand still for a beat, before he pulled back and thrusted back inside. They quickly built up a rhythm, skin slap slap slapping, as their moans held the tune. They moved in sync. Joel kept up the pace, hands holding her waist firmly, while Tess met them with a breathy moan. When she gripped the sheets in pleasure, you wondered if it really felt as good as she let on, or if it was all just part of the show.

“Face the camera,” the director interrupted suddenly. He wanted a close up of Tess getting fucked.

Joel slipped out of her, the bright lights catching on his glistening cock. The sight of Tess’ arousal reminded you, and the bottle of lube in your lap, about your insignificancy. Joel quickly slipped back inside Tess, a hand gripping her shoulder as he picked up the pace again.

“Just like that, baby, you feel so fuckin’ good around my cock.”

You felt silly, the reality of what you’d just done settling in. Why on earth would you agree to watch Joel? Pornstar or not, he’s still your boss. Your longing for him to be something else, would never erase that fact.

Disappointment was a heavy rope tying you down. You needed to get out of there before you hurt your own feelings. Sliding out of the chair, you left the bottle of lube. Straightening out your suede skirt, let out a quiet sigh. You didn’t want to look at him, but something drew you to him either way.

You locked eyes immediately, his eyes were dark and intense. He picked up the pace, Tess almost screaming with pleasure underneath him, but his eyes still didn’t leave yours. You couldn’t look away. The world narrowed until the only thing you could see was him.

With a grunt and a firm thrust, Joel came inside her, mouth parted in pleasure and eyes never leaving yours.

Squeezed into a flimsy plastic chair, feet planted steadily in front of him, Joel sat smoking a cigarette by the pool. Ripples of blue swam across his face, before giving way to the soft warmth of the burning cigarette. He looked deep in thought as you got out of your car, a plastic bag of take-out swinging from your hand. You slammed the door shut, jolting Joel from his thoughts. The evening wind softly kissed your bare arms as you walked across the parking lot to the fenced in pool area.

The shoot had run long and by the time it was over, it was late. Joel was tired, and when he’d suggested you stay at a motel for the night, you’d been quick to agree. Watching the darkening sky, you’d started to dread the three-hour drive back to LA – you’d rather wait for daylight.

Situated right off the main road Joel had spotted a Motel 6 with the neon ‘Vacancy’ light humming. With tired steps you’d walked together towards the lobby, and the lady at the desk didn’t look up from her magazine when you and Joel approached. Behind her, coming through the door to the back office, you heard a laugh track.

Joel turned on his southern charm, “’Scuse me, ma’am.”

The receptionist still didn’t look up from her magazine.

“Do y’all have two rooms vacant?”

With a sigh, the woman looked up at him, peering over her glasses. “We only have one Queen left.” She smacked her lips together obnoxiously as she spoke, a piece of gum visible in her teeth.

Joel looked over at you, one eyebrow raised. Crossing your arms over your chest, you didn’t know what to say. If they only had one room, they only had one room. You tapped your foot restlessly, made a face like you were thinking it over before you gave Joel a short but affirmative nod. He watched you for another beat, before he turned back around to say, “We’ll take it.”

The room was nothing much; a queen-sized bed in the middle of the room, two chairs and a table tucked into one corner, and a door leading to a small bathroom. First thing Joel did was find a place to put his bag. You didn’t have a bag, only your handbag, you hadn’t planned on not sleeping in your own bed tonight. Joel, on the other hand, always brought a change of clothes to set. He’d told you once he didn’t like to leave in the same clothes he’d arrived in.

As you closed in on Joel by the pool you realized he was still wearing his clothes from this morning. He’d told you he wanted to shower, so you’d gone out to get you both some dinner to give him some privacy. Now you wondered if he’d even had his shower.

“Hungry?” you asked, putting the plastic bag down on the round table beside him.

He took a deep drag of his cigarette, watching you through a cheeky smile, “Starvin’.”

“The only thing open was the roadside diner, so I’m afraid it’s greasy burgers.”

Joel gave you a shrug as you sat down, “Works for me.”

You ate in silence – sloshing coming from the pool and the cicadas hiding in the bushes, filled the air instead. When Joel finished his burger, and started on his fries, he looked up at you.

“So, what’d you think?” he asked you. You were silent for a second, before you looked down at the burger in your hand.

“Er...” you hesitated, not sure what he wanted you to say, “It’s not bad... meat’s a little dry, but–”

Joel interrupted your train of thought with a deep chuckle.

“I meant the porno, darlin’,” he said, using one of the napkins to wipe the corners of his mouth, “not the burger.” A smile pulled at his lips.

“Oh,” you said, and felt your cheeks fire up in embarrassment. You swallowed, buying yourself some time before you gave him a shrug.

“Was good,” you said, clearing your throat awkwardly, “I’m sure your fans will love it!”

“I wasn’t askin’ about them,” Joel said. His gaze felt like it was piercing through you, “Was askin’ you, wasn’t I? Did you like it?”

Despite the desperate embarrassment firing through your veins, you raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking me about porn over dinner?”

“Fair point,” he said with a nod, “You’re deflecting, though.”

A small chuckle escaped you, a smile tugging on the corner of your mouth as you shook your head and looked away for a second.

“What do you want me to say?” you asked him, looking back at him, “It’s porn, I’m human... of course I liked it.”

Bingo.

You can see from the corners of Joel’s smile that he’s happy with that answer, and he lets out an agreeing hum.

“See?” he said, his tone teasing, “Was that so hard to admit?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you said through a small scoff, pushing your styrofoam container away from you as you fell back in your chair.

“I am–… what was your favorite part?”

He was grinning hard now. He dug a hand in his back pocket, fishing out his packet of cigarettes and his lighter. You watched him with your head tilted, waiting for him to let you off the hook like he usually did. Instead, he grinned even wider, small splutters of breathy giggles making the cigarette dip as he tried to light it.

“Gimmie that!” you commanded, reaching out your hand for his cigarette. With a surprised eyebrow he took a quick drag before he handed it over. He watched you quietly as you took a breath. Savoring the first tar-y breath filling up your lungs.

“I liked the way you…” you took another drag and exhaled through your nose, “I don’t know…” you handed him the cigarette.

“I’m waitin’,” he teased, making you playfully roll your eyes at him.

“Well,” you sighed, “I liked the way you’re so attentive and made sure she’s feeling good even though it’s acting and everything… Even when you’re like throwing her around, all in charge and stuff.” You waved away the words.

“Yeah, well, that is the most important part of sex,” he gave you a look. Suddenly, he was a little serious. “It’s not fun if she’s not havin’ fun.”

“Not every guy thinks like that, you know,” you spoke, “it’s really nice that you do.”

Joel hummed at your words before a comfortable silence fell over you. You listened to the buzzing cicadas and the burning of Joel’s cigarette every time he took a drag.

“And… the dirty talk was hot too– you’re good at that,” you mused after a moment, breaking the silence, feeling comfortable enough with Joel to tell him the truth. He doesn’t judge you about what you think was sexy, and you realized it felt nice to open up to somebody, to let your suffocating shame die.

“Now, darlin’,” you could hear the smile in his voice, “now you’re just strokin’ my ego.”

“I can stroke more than your ego.”

Joel choked on his cigarette, coughing around the smoke before he looked over at you with wide eyes. “Am I goin’ crazy, or did you just tell a dirty joke?”

Your giggle filled the air between you before you leaned forward for his cigarette again. You brought it to your mouth as you impishly shrugged. Inside, you buzzed with a fluttery feeling.

You smiled at him. “I don’t know– you tell me.”

He playfully narrowed his eyes at you, leaning over the table to get a good look at you, “I’m not sure I’m likin’ this… where’s my sweet girl, huh?”

My sweet girl.

Your heart skipped like stones over water, and you had to look away. A smile blooming across your face. You heard him let out a sweet chuckle before he stood from his chair. The plastic feet scraping ever so slightly against the concrete. You watched him as he stepped before you, squatting down to be at eye level with you, his big hand landing on your exposed knee to steady himself.

“She’s still here,” you whispered after a moment. The cigarette between your fingers was burning out, but your whole body felt like it was on fire, a burning spreading from under his touch.

“I know she is, sweetheart,” he whispered back, his fingers rubbing gently over your skin. Joel looked at you with attentive eyes, “I love how shy you get for me.”

Before you had time to process his words, he pinched the cigarette from your fingers and stood to his feet. “Let’s call it a night?” he asked you, offering up his hand for you to take.

Feeling brave, you took his hand. It dwarfed your own, but it was strong, and warm in your hold. You watched as Joel finished off the cigarette, and stumped it out in the ashtray on the table, before gathering up your trash. You walked back to your room, hands intertwined and swinging between you. You couldn’t shake the thought of how you wished he’d kissed you.

Back inside your room he let you use the bathroom first. It was small, and the air was damp. You could see droplets of water clinging to the shower curtain. Joel did shower after all, he’d rinsed the day off into the drain. With no toiletries, you made do with what the motel offered. A bar of soap was sufficient enough to remove your make-up, but you knew your skin would punish you for it later. After brushing your teeth, you stepped back out where Joel waited for you on the bed.

“I’ve got a spare shirt if you wanna borrow it.” He held up his hand, handing you the clean cotton shirt he’d packed.

“Thanks,” you smiled shyly.

He watched you for a beat, his eyes soft, but tired. “And I’ll sleep in one of the chairs– don’t want ya worryin’ about nothin’.”

Shaking your head, you protested, “No, Joel, you’ve had a long day! I’ll sleep in the chair!”

This time he shook his head, a small chuckle escaping his mouth, “No, darlin’, you’re drivin’ tomorrow, remember? You’ll need your rest.”

Your eyebrows met in a furrow. He was right; you couldn’t do the drive back to LA tomorrow on no sleep, but you couldn’t live with yourself if he didn’t get any sleep either.

“Let’s just…” you trailed off, “You’re tired, I’m tired– let’s both sleep in the bed?” you suggested.

Crawling under the sheets clad in only your underwear and Joel’s t-shirt, you wondered if you were being unprofessional. This was technically a work trip. Joel was still your boss. You looked over at him where he sat on the edge with his back turned, fiddling with the alarm clock. Your eyes trailed over his bare back, tan and strong. You knew you could stare at him all night.

It was official: you’d left professional at the door.

Finally, the alarm clock set for tomorrow morning, Joel put it back on the nightstand. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he caught your eyes on his body. It made him smile.

“Joel? Can I ask you something?”

He got under the sheets, his foot grazing against yours as he got comfortable. “Yeah, sweetheart.”

“Can you turn off the light?”

“You needn’t ask me if you can ask me, to turn off the light,” he laughed, “you can just say ‘Joel, turn off the light’.”

You scrunched your face together. This was coming out all wrong. “No, I mean… I don’t think I can ask you my question with the lights still on.”

He looked you over with a warm smile before he leaned over and turned off the light on his nightstand. “There… what you want to ask me?”

Even bathed in darkness, you hesitated to speak. “Um… I guess…” you started, not knowing how to ask what you wanted to ask. You turned over on your back and stared at the ceiling, cursing the return of your shyness.

Joel waited for you patiently to gather your courage.

“How much… of porn, is fake?” you finally uttered.

Joel turned to his side, facing you, “What do you mean?”

“Like… when– when the girls…” You couldn’t say it.

“Come?”, he helped.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “is that real or… like– do they actually like it?”

“Right…”

Joel thought about your question, “’s hard to say… I mean mostly it’s real– at least in my experience– like I can feel it around my cock or fingers… but everybody has off days, and not everybody can come from penetration.”

Mostly it’s real. You went quiet, silently thinking about his answer as you stared a hole in the ceiling. Not everybody can come from penetration.

“Why you askin’ me this, sweetheart?” He shifted a little closer.

You pulled your hands from under the sheets, resting them over your chest. Your thumb on your right hand found your thumb on the left where it picked at the skin.

“Huh?”

“I– I don’t know… it’s silly.”

“No, ‘s not– you’re not silly, sweetheart.” He shifted a little closer, a reassuring hand falling over your own and stopping you from picking at your fingers.

You didn’t say anything, and you didn’t look at him either. You felt silly. You’d just complimented him earlier about how attentive he comes across in bed, and now you’re asking him if any of it was even real.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Joel asked, breaking the silence between you.

Nodding your head, you hummed.

“Are you a virgin?”

His question almost made you jump. Suddenly, his previously calming hands over yours felt heavy. A fire started in your cheeks. You were mortified, and it felt crazy. If you were back home right now, you’d be mortified to tell anyone you weren’t a virgin seeing as you were unmarried. Now, with Joel, you felt mortified he thought you were one.

“No,” you peeped. It would’ve sounded like a lie if it wasn’t the truth. “W-what makes you say that?” You finally looked at him, your eyes wide as saucers.

Unconvinced, he gave you a lopsided smile, “How many have you slept with?”

“How many have you slept with?” you mumbled.

“Honey, we both know that I’ve slept with way too many to count.” He said it with a teasing lilt to his voice, and a comforting rub of his thumb over the back of your hand. His small touch was enough to relax you, to bring you back from the ledge of mortification. This was Joel for god’s sake. He would never judge you; you knew that.

“One…” you whispered, “Only one person.”

With a hum, Joel shifted over to lay on his back, but his thumb still rubbed circles over your skin. “So– you’re asking me this ‘cause it was bad?” he mused.

“I don’t know… maybe,” you whispered.

“You don’t know if it was bad– or you don’t know why you’re askin’ me if women enjoy sex?”

“The latter,”

“So, it was bad,” he concluded, before he whispered, mostly to himself.

The silence was back, speaking loudly between the two of you as you both processed what the other had just said. After a beat Joel turned back on his side to face you again.

“Tell me– how bad was it?” He said it softly, a tenderness in his voice you hadn’t heard before.

“It just… it hurt.”

You sighed, and for the first time since the light went out you turned your head to look at him. “John–” your face scrunched up in a grimace as you spoke his name, like you couldn’t believe you were telling him this story. “He worked in accounting, and we were going around, you know? Went on a few dates. He was a sweet guy. After the third date we went back to his place, for a drink. He kissed me– and then we were making out, and during everything I just thought ‘This might as well happen’. I thought I wanted to lose my virginity… and I liked John– so why not. But then he just… pulled off my underwear, didn’t even touch me and… went to town.”

Joel sucked a breath through his teeth, his hand gripping yours a little tighter. “Did you– have you ever had an orgasm?”

You shifted uncomfortably under his question and turned your head back towards the ceiling again. “Yes,” you whispered.

Joel moved a little closer, and you felt your body dip towards him from his weight against the mattress. His hand resting over yours traveled down your arm, and under the sheet.

“By your own hand then,” he said it more like a statement than a question.

You felt your heart beat out of your chest, as something in the air between you shifted. Underneath the covers your body burned. Sucking in a breath, you held it for a moment before you nodded.

“Show me.”

His hand grazed over your waist, fingers dancing over the exposed skin between the hem of his t-shirt and the waistband of your panties. You reveled in it, his touch, his proximity, his gentle kiss to your shoulder. You looked at him, searched his face for any indication that he was just messing with you.

“No? Ain’t feelin’ it?” He’d watched you too, you realized.

He withdrew his hand from your waist, and you panicked, “No!”

He stopped, instead hovering his hand over your body. “No, you ain’t feelin’ it, or no, don’t stop?” he asked you.

You panicked again. “Yes!” you said before your eyebrows met in a furrow, “I-I’m sorry, this isn’t very sexy.”

Joel withdrew his hand from your body, and your disappointment sank like a rock in water, but then he cupped your jaw and you forgot to breathe.

“Forget about sexy, sweetheart,” he told you, a calloused thumb rubbing against your skin, “not that you ain’t sexy– you are, but I need you to relax, okay?”

You nodded, and a smile spread wide across his face,

“Good girl.”

You almost mewled at the praise, and he noticed, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

“You liked that, huh?” he teased, rubbing his thumb softly over your lower lip, “Y’like being a good girl for me?”

You found it hard to think with him so close, breathless when he touched you like this. You nodded slowly; moony eyes fixated on him. Like a reflex, your legs rubbed together under the sheets, aching to relieve the pressure building.

“You’re so sweet, baby– and shy,” his voice was low, like he was afraid someone would hear him. Slowly he leaned closer, pressing the softest kiss to your neck. A quiet whimper fell from your lips.

You felt Joel’s smile against your skin, teeth nipping as he pressed kiss after kiss to your sensitive skin. “You make my cock so fuckin’ hard.”

“Joel,” you finally choked out, a wet patch already soiling your panties.

“Yes?” he took your earlobe in his mouth, gently biting down on it before letting it go. You couldn’t think – at least not about something that wasn’t Joel and his touch.

“P-please kiss me?” you tried, your hand landing on his shoulder.

His breath puffed against your skin in a small chuckle, before he lifted his face from his new home in the crook of your neck. He found your blown out face, watching you with a tenderness in his eye. A beat passed and then he leaned closer, brushing his lips over yours. Your hand on his shoulder followed his neck to cup his face, keeping him close to you. His hand pushed gently at the sheets, revealing your upper body to him. The kiss was tender and slow, your noses pressed together. He pulled you apart and then put you together again. One of his hands trailed along the hem of your – his – t-shirt where he pushed at the fabric, bunching it just below your breasts. You broke apart.

“Was that all you wanted, sweet girl? Just a kiss?” His forehead touched your own, words low and taunting. You slowly shook your head, eyes still locked with Joel’s. His hand moved methodically, trailing down your stomach until it reached…

Your breath hitched in your throat.

“No?” he asked with a teasing grin, “What do you want then, sweetheart?”.

He already knew. His open palm cupped you over your soaked panties, the breadth of it pressing firmly down on your clit. You mewled under him, hips bucking up to meet his hand.

“Nah-ah,” he lifted his head from your forehead, dark eyes boring into yours. “You need to show me.”

Joel had started a dangerous fire inside of you. It lapped at your insides, burned away your insecurities, and replaced them with lust. With a shaky hand, your hand found Joel’s. His eyes were still locked on you – his gaze burning your cheek and branding you his.

“There you go,” he praised, letting you guide his hand up and down your clothed cunt, feeling your arousal seep through the fabric, “good girl.”

You guided him to your clit, pressing the pads of his finger down on it in tight circles. You were so sensitive – on edge since you watched him filming earlier – a small moan fell from your lips.

“Feels good doesn’t it, baby, getting your clit rubbed.”

“Yes…” Joel drew another moan from you.

Your grip around his hand loosened, and Joel took over. With a practiced hand he circled his fingers just right. He started with a steady pace and tight circles, before he put more pressure on your aching bud. He was bringing you closer and closer to the edge, coaxing small whimpers and breathy moans from your lips as you got more and more lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

“Have you ever fingered yourself, sweetheart?” he asked you, dipping his hand beneath your panties. A bold finger ran through your folds, a finger teasing at your entrance.

Your front teeth caught your lower lip, and you had to bite down to suppress a moan. It was hard to concentrate on what he was asking you when he was touching you like that.

“Y-yes, but…” you trailed off, feeling his finger, now coated in your arousal, back on your clit. It made your brain go blank.

“But what, sweet girl?” he pulled his hand from your panties, and you whined.

A wet trail followed him up your stomach. When you made no move to answer, a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Leaning closer he pressed a short but tender kiss to your lips; his mustache tickled your cupid’s bow.

“It’s too messy,” you said when he pulled back, shaking your head.

“Yeah? You’ve got a messy pussy, sweetheart?”

Joel leaned down again, pressing soft fluttering kisses down your throat. When he reached the collar of your shirt, he pulled at the fabric, exposing your collarbone to his kisses. Your hands found his hair, tethering you to the moment.

“Yes,” you whispered, heat burning your cheeks at the confession he pulled from you.

With a wide grin, Joel sat up. His fingers found the hem of your shirt. He helped you pull it over your head, exposing your naked chest to him. Not even a second later he was back to kissing his way down your body, worshiping you with every press. You burned under him, every kiss like a small death.

Shifting on the bed, he settled between your legs. His mustache tickled the skin on your tummy, making you giggle. You felt Joel’s smile against your skin, at the sound of your fluttering laugh. He let his lips brush over your skin, trailing downwards to the top of your panties where he pressed a kiss, teeth pulling at the small bow like you were a present to be unwrapped, before his fingers hooked around the elastic. With a lift of your hips, you let him pull off your panties. The wet spot in the center clung to your cunt, as he peeled them off.

“Fuck,” he cursed, “wanna taste you, baby, wanna taste that messy pussy.”

With his fingers back on your cunt, you jumped a little under his touch. The air filled with a slick sound of your arousal as he ran them through your folds, a finger teasing your entrance.

“Relax for me baby,” he soothed, gently pressing kisses to the soft skin of your inner thigh, “I’ll take care of you.”

Looking down at him between your legs, you let yourself go. His eyes bored into yours. Warmth and lust, and nothing but affection behind them.

You nodded, “Please.”

A wide grin blossomed across Joel’s face as he leaned down, hovering just above your clit. He ducked forward, pressing the softest kiss to your clit, taking it slow and easing you into it with slow licks. You couldn’t help the whimpers escaping you, a needy sound desperate for more – more Joel. He pinned you down with his arm splayed over your tummy, keeping you right where he wanted you, turning you into a withering moaning mess under him.

Joel continued exploring you with his tongue. Changing between flicking and lapping at your clit, circling it just right, and wrapping his lips around it, giving it gentle sucks. He lapped at your folds, the hook of his nose catching on your clit as he tasted you properly. You felt yourself pushed closer and closer towards the edge, coxed by Joel.

Two careful fingers spread you apart, gliding up and down, coated in your arousal. He easily found your entrance to push a finger carefully inside. You felt yourself clench down on him; you couldn’t help it. You were so sensitive and so close. Dropping your mouth open, a breathy moan escaped.

“Oh, fuck,”

Joel hummed against your pussy, the vibrations traveling straight to the coil tightening in your tummy. Slowly, he started thrusting his finger inside, rewarded by a slick sound, telling him just how wet and desperate you were for him. With a moan your head rolled back into the pillow – you were so close.

“Joel,” you panted.

His tongue continued his assault on your clit, and you lost yourself in him. You clamped down on his finger with every thrust. You didn’t know how much longer you could take it. Joel was so focused on you, so attentive, so responsive. Between your legs he drank in every twist of pleasure and whimpering moan.

“Joel,” you panted again.

“You’re gonna come for me aren’t you, sweetheart? Be a good girl and make a mess on my face.” he coaxed.

Joel quickly withdrew his finger to slip in another, and the new stretch had your legs shaking. His tongue circled your clit, sucking it with just the right amount of pressure. Underneath him you squirmed, breathy moans hitching in your throat.

“Oh, god,”

You couldn’t answer him. Couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t take it anymore.

With a silent cry, you came. His strong arm over your tummy held you down, as you twitched against the mattress, legs shaking. You’d never felt anything like this before. A pleasure so all-consuming you couldn’t remember your name, or where you were – only Joel. He helped you through it. His fingers kept up their pace, pads brushing right up against that spot of bliss, as you clenched down hard around them. You gripped the sheets, desperate for a lifeline as you came down.

Joel slowed down his fingers, pressing soft kisses to your clit. Your pleasure turning to overstimulation – now you definitely couldn’t take it anymore. Fragile and sensitive, you pushed him away with a shaky hand.

He let you push him around, his lips finding the inside of your thighs instead, where his mustache teased the sensitive skin. With one last kiss, Joel pulled away. You almost didn’t register the dip in the mattress as he laid down beside you. You were somewhere else entirely, floating away on a post-orgasm-cloud.

“Joel, shit, I…” you tried to speak, your voice hoarse with exhaustion.

“I know, sweetheart,” Joel answered. He pulled you closer, wrapping a hand around you. Slowly, you turned to your side, engulfed in Joel’s embrace.

“D-did you want to–”

You could feel the presence of his hard clothed cock pressed against your ass, but his big safe arms around you told you a different story. He nosed at the back of your neck, pressing fluttering kisses to the skin, making goosebumps erupt.

“No, darlin’, not tonight,” his voice was just above a whisper, the bass vibrating against your ear.

“Are you sure? I-I mean– we can if you want to,” you spluttered. He’d just given you the best orgasm in your life, he shouldn’t have to go to bed without one for himself.

“Not tonight,” he said, pressing a kiss behind your ear, “It’s been a long day– I’m tired, you’re tired… let’s just sleep, my sweet girl.”

“S-should we talk about this?” you asked, your hand slipping into his, pressing it against your naked chest.

“In the mornin’,” he hummed, voice coated in sleep.

With heavy eyelids, you fell asleep in Joel’s arms. The safety of being wrapped up in him, lulled you into a peaceful slumber. The motel bed was hard and uncomfortable, and the pillow thin and flimsy, but it didn’t matter in Joel’s arms.

Morning came too quickly, and with a screeching sound of an alarm clock that pulled you from heaven. Jolting awake behind you, Joel groaned. His hands slipped from your body; the warmth exchanged with prickling goosebumps. You shifted over on your back, watching as Joel turned off the alarm. The beeping stopped, and with a tired grunt Joel laid down back beside you. When he looked at you – his tired eyes glinting – a sleepy smile pulled at his lips.

“Mornin’,”

“Good morning, Joel” you smiled back.

“It is a good mornin’, isn’t it?” he hummed, turning on his side.

You mirrored him, shifting closer and resting your head on his pillow. He snaked a hand over the dip in your waist, big hand splaying over your naked back.

“It is,” you agreed, locking eyes with him.

Rubbing in slow circles, his hand on your back was soothing. You reveled in it, reveled in Joel, in the bliss of being so close to him. You shifted even closer, resting your forehead to his chest.

“You should probably fire me,” you mumbled into his skin, “I’ve been extremely unprofessional.”

A chuckle came from deep inside Joel, it vibrated through his skin, where you felt it under your fingertips.

“I ain’t firin’ my best employee,” he laughed, placing a dry kiss to the top of your head.

You pulled away with a frown, head back on your own pillow. “This is like the cliché of clichés, Joel– sleeping with your assistant…”

In the bright light of the day, you cursed yourself for your late-night moment of weakness. You’ve never done anything like this before. What if this will be all that Joel wants from you from now on? You don’t think your heart could take it if it was.

Joel’s laugh died in his throat, his eyebrows meeting in a frown. “Who said anything about sleepin’ with my assistant?”

Your eyes widened with mortification. Shit. A hand came up to rub at your face, as you sat up, pulling the sheets around you.

“Hey, no, sweetheart,” Joel grabbed at your hand, stopping you in your tracks.

You couldn’t look at him – afraid tears would push behind your eyes. He’s a pornstar, what were you thinking? You were just a girl. A girl to warm his bed for a night. How could you put your job on the line for something like this?

The sheets rustled as he shifted closer, “Please, lay down, I need to talk to you.”

“Joel, I-I’m sorry– w-we can just forget about it– I’ll quit, don’t worry about it– me, don’t worry about me,” you stuttered out, your back still turned.

“I ain’t forgettin’ about nothin’, sweetheart– shit, d’you think I do this often?”

His question made you turn around. He was propped up on his elbow, carefully watching you.

You nodded, and he sighed.

“It’s been years since I’ve slept with someone outside of work,” he confessed, “Shit, I don’t even seek it out, I ain’t interested in it.”

“I-I’m sorry Joel, I–” you started, but he cut you off,

“You’re not listenin’,” he shook his head, “what I’m sayin’ is: I wanna sleep with you.”

Your face scrunched up in a confused frown, “Because I’m someone from work?”

Joel let out a breathless chuckle, “No, sweetheart, ‘s because I think you’re beautiful.”

His words almost didn’t register.

“What?”

This time his laugh is loud and golden, coated in happiness. He pulled at your hand, and you fell, your back hitting the sheets.

“You are…” he emphasized, cupping your cheek, and guiding you back in his embrace. “And you’re a shy little thing, aren’t you? But so smart, and kind, and caring– someone you can’t help but fall in love with.”

“Fall in love with?” you repeated, you couldn’t believe what he was telling you.

“Yeah, sweet girl,” he smiled at you, all teeth, and crinkles around his eyes in the morning light.

“Oh,”

“Yeah,” he laughed, guiding your face closer to his, his lips brushing over yours, “wanna make you mine, sweetheart.”

His kiss stole your breath and twisted you up inside. He licked at the seam, and you opened yourself to him. He licked into your mouth, one arm snaked around your body, drawing you closer, pulling whine after desperate whine from you and stealing your breath.

Landing on your hip, his hand traveled downwards – over the thick of your thigh, and down the inside in smooth motions. He tugged on your leg, pulling it to rest over his hip, his hard cock rutting into your bare heat. His kiss got more desperate; his tongue melded with yours. It was hot, and dizzying and all-consuming all at the same time.

You grinded against him, feeling his hard cock against you. The fabric of his underwear caught on your clit, rubbing it just right, your arousal darkening the fabric. You moaned into his mouth, a desperate need for Joel building deep in your stomach.

With a rut of his hips, he broke away from your kiss. “You want me to fill up this perfect little pussy, don’t you baby?” His hand on your cheek disappeared between your bodies.

“Yes,” you tried to say, but the words got stuck in your throat when you felt the head of Joel’s cock rub up and down your folds. Your heavy breathing, the slick sound of your arousal the only sound in the room.

“Listen’ baby, y’hear how wet you are for me?” he whispered in awe, the head of his cock caught on your clit. You braced yourself with a hand to his shoulder, breathy pants the only sounds leaving your lips.

“You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?” he chuckled. He let go of the grip around his cock, the sound of it slapping against his stomach obscene. A beat later he swiped his fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal before drawing tight circles to your clit.

Your face squeezed shut in pleasure, your fingers dug into his shoulder. He eased a finger inside, before he quickly pulled out and added another. The stretch of his fingers was easy, your arousal dripping over his knuckles as he thrusted them inside with ease.

You grinded down on his hand, meeting his thrusts, forcing his fingers deeper inside. Always so attentive, Joel curled his fingers where they hit your spot perfectly, just like he’d done last night. A breathy squeal fell from your lips.

“That’s it, sweetheart, let me hear you,” he egged you on.

“Joel, please,” you panted. Sparks traveled through your body, collecting in a pit in your stomach where it coiled in on itself, aching for release.

He curled his fingers again, and hit your spot – his palm snug against your throbbing clit, “Fuckin’ perfect you are, darlin’, so tight and wet around my fingers.”

“Shit,”

He pushed you straight for the edge, your walls fluttered around his fingers. Your panting got heavier, your eyes squeezed shut, you’re so close. Joel chuckled, his breath puffing your face and he… pulled away.

You whined at the emptiness, opening your eyes to see him staring at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

He cupped your jaw, “Poor baby,” he pouted before he pulled you in for a kiss. You sighed into him, desperate to feel him anyway he wanted.

“Turn around,” he ordered against your lips, his hand letting go of your jaw to tap at the top of your hip.

You did as he told you, turning around in his hold to press your ass against him, feeling his hard cock pressed against you. Behind you, you heard him let out a deep and guttural groan. His hand hooked under your thigh, lifting it to your chest and exposing your wet and desperate cunt for him. You let him manhandle you into the position he wants, trusting him to know what’ll feel the best.

He guided the tip of his cock through your soaked folds coating it in your arousal before grazing it over your throbbing clit.

“You ready, sweetheart?” he whispered in your ear, like a hiss. He lined himself up with your entrance, teasing you, and himself.

“I-I need it, Joel, please,” you begged, a hand clinging to the sheets.

“Yeah? You need it, sweetheart? Need this big cock to fill you up?” he asked, pushing just the tip inside.

“Joel, please, please,” you whimpered, almost a squeak. In one fluid motion he pushed inside, burying himself to the hilt inside you. The stretch of him was overwhelming, but the angle had you seeing stars.

“Ah– fuck,” you cried, your eyes immediately squeezing shut. Your hand searched for his where it held your leg to your chest. You needed to anchor yourself to him, afraid you’d fall apart right there and then.

“You alright sweetheart?” you heard him whisper in your ear, and you nodded slightly, “Feel good?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whimpered, mouth dipping open in pleasure.

Behind you he groaned into your ear, cursing in hushed whispers. “That’s it, good fuckin’ girl, takin’ all that cock inside,” he pulled out nearly all the way, taking his time with it, moving with practiced motions.

“Shit,” you mewled as he bottomed out inside for the second time. Grinding against your ass, he pushed himself as deep as he possible could – you felt him in your fucking stomach, he was so deep.

“You can take it, sweetheart,” he told you, pulling out and thrusting back inside.

Picking up the pace, Joel started fucking into you deep and hard. With each grind of his hips against your ass, with every thrust, he made sure to bury his thick cock as deep inside as he could, angling his cock expertly so the head rubbed up against your spot. Behind you he grunted and moaned in your ear. It was sweaty and hot, and sticky between your legs.

He let go of your leg, ordering you to press it to your chest, as his hand traveled downwards to brush his fingers over your throbbing clit.

“Joel,” you mewled. He pulled a symphony of whimpers and moans from you with every thrust.

“This pussy’s so fuckin’ tight– shit,” he panted in your ear, “You’re so good for me baby, takin’ that cock so well.”

His fingers pressed down on your clit, drawing tight circles, pushing you towards the edge of bliss. You squirmed against him, hips meeting his with every thrust as you start to chase your fast approaching orgasm.

“Need you to come for me, sweetheart– squeeze that cock like a good girl.”

“Joel,” you cried and let go. Your walls fluttered around his cock as you came, back arching off his chest, as your body squirmed and shook in his arms. Breathy gasps and pathetic whimpers left your lips as he kept up his unrelenting pace, fucking you through it, and prolonging your high.

You were far away. Blissed and fucked out as you came down from your moment of ecstasy. Behind you Joel’s grunts bordered on desperate, as his thrusts started to become sloppy.

“Shit, sweetheart– m’close, so fuckin’ close.”

“Come for me Joel,” you pleaded.

“Fuck,” he grunted as he pulled out.

His hand was on you in an instance, pushing you to your stomach as he turned you around. He knelt over you, fisting his cock desperately. Turning your head, you pushed off the bed to look over your shoulder where you found his eyes, locking them with his. Joel came with a guttural moan, the muscles in his stomach tightening and loosening as he coated your ass in his cum. It was hot and sticky on your back, feeling it drip slowly down the side of your waist.

“God damn,” he breathed out through a chuckle. His breath was heavy, like he’d just climbed ten stories.

You turned to your side to look up at him properly. He looked beautiful; his hair messy from sleep, broad chest heaving, a content smile pulling at his lips as you gave him a smile.

“Took the words straight out of my mouth.”

i hope you liked this! part two -> here

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #dom!joel miller #the last of us smut #tlou smut #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal #inexperienced!reader #70s AU

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luocha-lovr · 25 days

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modeling au where junior model and rival veritas ratio steals all your fans not even a month after appearing on the local panacony magazines whereas you had to work to gain those fans for years.

modeling au where you're in a photoshoot to advertise an up-and-coming boudoir photography agency and partnered with veritas.

modeling au where veritas laughs at your cute doll face trying to model in some of the most risque lingeries he's seen. you were never gonna make it work. (spoiler: you do.)

modeling au where veritas gets a hard on when the director tells you to sit your junior's lap and you sit directly on his junior instead. he knows you could feel him beneath those gray sweatpants he was asked to wear.

modeling au where you drag him to the dressing room the moment the director's yelling "cut!" and procees to give him the best titjob of his fucking life. almost passes out because you were dead set on draining him.

modeling au where veritas develops a kink for titjobs— but only with your tits specifically. regularly asks to be paired with you for any new projects now because "i cant do well without my senior there to guide me."

congrats, you've gained your fans back AND turned your rival into a fan.

#ᯓᡣ𐭩 lovr's #hsr #star rail #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #fem reader #dr ratio #hsr dr ratio #veritas ratio #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio smut #hsr smut #m4f

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kairiscorner · 10 months

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this shit got me giggling like TEEHEE

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

dating model au miguel o'hara (as an ordinary person)

honestly, miguel folds when you praise or compliment him. he wouldn't believe him if you told him at first how handsome he was when you two met, and he still doesn't, even if he's a sought-after model that's known the world over.

"y'know, i'm just okay, right? the real pretty one here is... none other than you."

LIKE SERIOUSLY, he was just sought out one day and suddenly, he'd on the cover of all kinds of magazines and posters. he doesn't exactly let that get to his head, though--it's just, in his opinion, a job. coming home to you and treating you the way he knows you should be treated is all that really matters to him.

he didn't mind posing with other people before on camera in intimate ways, but it became harder for him when he met you, because all he could think about when he's holding another person so romantically or intimately is, "i bet holding them would feel like heaven, this is... this is nothing compared to how it'd feel like to hold them."

he's gotten so used to forwarding calls to his agents that he's made it his daily habit to send a bunch of calls his agents' ways. but when you called him for the first time, when he heard your voice and realized this was no representative from a fashion agency or advertising company or wherever else they needed him to pose for--it was just you, that was the very first time in a long while that he had a real conversation with someone who cared about him for him.

that was when he fell in love with you, and kept falling for you when he realized you didn't give a damn whether he was a model or not. he really didn't get how a guy like him was so lucky to have someone like you, so beautiful, so kind, so patient, so gentle, and capable--and here you were overthinking whether he loved you or not, of course he does!

he constantly forces his agents to clear out his schedules for certain hours so he can meet up with you on your commute home and have dinner with you, maybe even catch a movie with you, go shopping, or just... cuddle, sit together in the silence, and just love you without any cameras or flashing lights involved :>

you make him feel so normal, so real, so actually alive, reminding him he has a life outside of the lives many others expect him to live as a high-class and in-demand model. he loves coming home to you at the end of a photoshoot, whether you're asleep or awake waiting for him, and just being close to you, admiring how beautiful you are and how lucky he is to have you, despite how chaotic his schedule is compared to yours. he might as well just quit to be your model forever <3

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @luvstarrstruck

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #atsv imagines #atsv #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader

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ice-cream-writes-stuff · 1 year

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Who Framed Wally Darling?~☆

《A detective is the only hope to prove the one accused their innocence when they are convicted of murder.》

《Warnings: the subject matter this ARG has are potentially disturbing. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Welcome Home was created by Clown @ partycoffin 》

-《This Au is going to go two ways.. Enjoy!》

[Cast, You as Eddie Valiant. Wally Darling as Jessica Rabbit and Roger Rabbit!]

All you wanted was to have one big easy paying job. Not helps a puppet on the run.

But... It was your fault.

You were the only one that could prove Wally Darlings' innocence.

You were paid to keep an eye on the star puppet of the hit show. "Welcome Home".

Known for his charm, charisma and soft voice.

The man that hired you, (the boss of the studio that produced Welcome Home.) Wanted to find some dirt on the rising star puppet, believing the puppet had other, side-jobs that he couldn't do due to his contract.

So, you went to investigate.

But after watching him for a couples of day, you were glad to say you had nothing close to what your employer wanted...

So on that note, you went back to the studio and got your pay and headed back home.

[Breaking News: Studio owner of ---- ----, has been murdered! Suspect of the crime has yet to be caught or questioned by authorities.]

Spitting out your breakfast onto the kitchen counter.

You hear a knock on your door.

Opening it up, you see a small frightened puppet on your doorstep

I guess a new case is needed to be solved.

[Cast! You as Roger Rabbit, Wally playing as Jessica Rabbit. Julie and Frank playing Eddie Valiant!]

[I made this for shits and giggles, then I remembered Abba-]

You were a children's show actor, one of the main characters. But not the most prominent one.

You loved to make your audience laugh and learn about the world. Hoping to educate the new generation of young minds.

But others would rather see you fail than succeed.

Your boss had called you down to his office to talk to you, so filming was put on pause as you made your way down to his office.

"(L/N), this is Detective Frankly and Detective Julie, they has something to show you." You nod your head politely to the Detective Frankly and Julie.

After finding out your husband could possibly be cheating on you. You sob and cry, finding a peice of paper and writing down the love you held for Wally before heading home.

Crying softly and sleeping in another room, not wanting to see him. (He was very upset when he noticed you weren't beside him when he woke up.)

On your way to the studio, a news advertisement plays

[Breaking News: Studio owner of ---- ----, has been murdered! Suspect of the crime has yet to be caught or questioned by authorities.]

A photo of you appears on screen as you back away in shock!

You had to get to the bottom of this.

There was only one duo that could help you, Frank and Julie's Detective Agency!

@yourmommylol04 @openminded-freak @takenbytheboogieman @apelepikozume @candie-wax @thealreadyunsteadyteddynewspaper @mars-wants-candy @queenofspades403 @hiddencatails @bumbly-bee-13 @sethlainpallatt @jacquelynwinchester

@the-golden-speckle-light @planetary-poison @i-d0nt-3x1st @urmomisaqt420 @shadowlover321

@trumpettay @sugarrush-blush @sl33pyt1r3 @soggys-world @xxblackdementia311xx @coolcat101s @himboextraordinaire @rainingdandelion @pepperspark @sparklyphantom @000-mika

[Hope ya'll enjoyed this! It's a bit rushed but I had fun playing with the concept and I hope you guys can too! I wanna see some red suit wally and Julie and Frank being detectives!]

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peachywritess · 1 year

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happiness looks good on you ー knj

☁️ genre: long-term lovers, estabilished relationship, fluff, kind of domestic!au, namjoon being a supportive husband.

☁️ pairings: husband!kim namjoon x artist!female!reader

☁️ warnings: there aren't any, just joonie being husband material, use of pet names such as jagiya, baby, love.

☁️ word count: 1,7k

☁️ author's note: just a small little thing i had in mind, not my best but i really liked writing this, i hope you like it bubs!!<3

Feedbacks are welcomed !

The brush plopped into the water jar, and a few drops of coloured liquid spilt on the wooden surface. Some ended up on your phone which lit up, the lock screen displaying your favourite picture: you and Namjoon holding a white teddy bear he had won at an amusement park. You remembered that day clearly: it was your first anniversary.

You had captured the moment with a polaroid camera Namjoon had bought as a gift, and you still hadn’t figured out how it worked so the shot came out far too bright. However, looking at that picture years later still brought a sense of warmth and nostalgia: you were both so young, inexperienced, and still seeking to understand each other. Seven years had passed since that day, and so many things had happened: your trip to Bali, rescuing two calico cats and naming them Zelda and Esme, your tour of Europe, and then your marriage.

Your house was full of memories and pictures from your numerous adventures like the one in the Italian Alps where you were too scared to cross a suspended bridge, and Namjoon had to carry you for more than a mile. Or the one in the french Blue Coast when he had mistaken tanning oil for sunscreen so you both had pretty bad sunburns for the entire week.

“I told you to buy sunscreen, Joonie - sunscreen!”

“It is! See, huile de bronzage.” He had panicked showing you the little brown bottle.

“It literally means tanning oil, Namjoon Kim!”

A smile shone on your lips ー reminiscing all of the wonderful memories you had made together. You missed his buzz cut, and how his short hair used to tingle your palms: when you were younger, Namjoon let you dye it in different colours. One time, you had opted for pretty pink flowers, and the dye had stayed on for months.

You loved that he couldn't give a damn about other people's judgement - in fact - he would always brag to his hyungs how talented his girlfriend was. Surely, he would let you know.

"Jagiya, you are so talented. Please dye my hair forever!"

You had majored in arts whereas Namjoon had chosen to open up a travel agency. Initially, it was not easy for either of you: you had only each other's support and getting through the month was always difficult.

Namjoon stayed out late to advertise his shop, but despite this he would always stay up all night watching you finalise one of your paintings, making sure to bring you a glass of water about every half hour because "it's important to stay hydrated when you are working hard."

He would try his best to stay awake by telling you about his day, showering you with compliments and then attempting to analyse what you were painting. You would quietly listen to him, some mhmh's and mhh's in response and occasionally interrupt his chatter to tell him to get some rest. Yet each time he reiterated the same phrase: 'I'll stay awake as long as you do, love'.

And so within minutes he would fall asleep on the couch and you would bring a blanket and a pillow for him to be comfortable.

But now, his hair had grown out and you had practically lost the sparks you usually felt when you painted. Finishing a canvas was now something you had to do - and really didn't enjoy at all.

“You have one month, Y/N. Then I will shred the contract to pieces, understood?”

You listened in silence as your boss complained over the phone, her voice a few octaves higher.

“I mean, what happened to you? Do you think I pay lazy and unmotivated people? Our company seeks talent and commitment, and I’m afraid you no longer have any of these requirements.”

You sharply inhaled pinching the bridge of your nose, back resting against the chair as Namjoon stood right behind you, he too in silence. His hands were placed on your shoulders, which he stroked softly.

“I understand, Mrs Han. I am working on a piece at the moment, and I swear that it will be done in less than a month-”

You took all of your courage to speak - that woman truly scared you. Ms Han was the director of the agency you worked for, whose aim was to sell artwork at a premium price. She was a fifty-year-old woman with a passion for belittling her employees and underpaying them.

“No more promises, I don’t care. I just want that piece at the end of this month.” She interrupted you, and you sighed.

Just know that this is your last chance.”

And just like that she hung up, leaving you lost in a limbo of disbelief and terror: you could not afford to lose this job.

Yes, it probably wasn't the best job on the planet, but you hadn't yet realised your dream of opening your own atelier, and this company - although not particularly ethical - was a sure ticket to gaining a small amount of notoriety in the industry.

“Wow, what a bitch.” Namjoon proclaimed breaking the silence and bringing a small smile to your lips.

“Damn right she is.”

You groaned, squinting your eyes shut, before running your hands down your face - in a gesture of sheer exasperation. “I could end her whole career if I wanted to.”

“Then do that, baby. You have nothing to lose, she does.”

You let your head fall back, resting it on the chair, finally meeting your boyfriend's gaze. He was smiling, and his dimples looked so adorable you wanted to squeeze his cheeks.

“Um, probably my job, Joonie?”

“Yeah, that’s a good point.”

Namjoon leaned forward until you were close enough to look directly into his eyes, then left a soft kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes, savouring that brief moment of tranquillity. His attention then shifted to the canvas in front of you - a few lines of red paint already starting to dry up - and observed it thoroughly without saying a word.

"Do you remember when you accepted the job offer?" He questioned.

"Mhmh, what about it?"

"And do you also remember what you told me?"

You bit your lower lip, scratching your chin with your index finger.

You had said a million, no, a billion things to Namjoon before you signed that contract.

"Um, wish me luck?" You said in a slightly questioning tone, and your husband facepalmed.

With a swift movement, he turned the chair you were sitting on allowing you to look him directly in the eyes. That gesture made you blush and you stared at him with doe eyes.

"No, jagi, not the correct answer." He tilted his head, soft jet-black locks brushing his forehead. "You promised me you wouldn't let them change you."

You were struggling, and that broke his heart.

Namjoon knew you were desperately trying to paint something, anything that would please your boss. He had examined the shift in your brushstrokes from time to time, and they didn’t seem to belong to you. They were abrupt and quick, whereas you always directed them with gentle movements.

He was not seeing you on that canvas, instead, he was seeing a version you had been forced to become.

"Is it worth it, love? Do you want to become a machine for them to make more money?"

You sighed. He was right ー Namjoon was so right.

You had completely forgotten how it felt to make art, you had forgotten how it felt to be free. You had submitted to their rules because they had made empty promises from the start and you had believed them.

Namjoon crouched down, resting his hands on your knees. In that position, the light coming from the window illuminated his face as you gazed at him with pure admiration. He was glowing.

His brown eyes seemed to light up, turning a honey-like amber colour.

"Joonie..." You murmured as your hands gently grabbed his. "I can't lose this job, I just cannot."

"Y/N, you are the best thing to ever happen to me, you know that right?"

His thumbs softly rubbed the back of your hands, something he always did to comfort you. As he stroked he gently drew imaginary shapes like circles, flowers or hearts.

You hummed in response locking eyes with him.

"That's why I want the best for you. I want you to be happy because I can't bear the thought of you ever suffering. And what I truly wish for, is for you to find your love for art again, and-"

"Baby..."

"I don't want you to feel obligated because I swear to you Y/N, I will always support you no matter what," he then grabbed both your hands in his, and brought them to his lips. "but I wish you just left this job."

You smiled when Namjoon placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles. Despite all these years, he had never changed: he was still the same old romantic and you couldn't complain.

"I know, Joonie, but what if I can't find anything? What if... I don't make enough money to open the atelier?"

Namjoon lightly squeezed your hands, his eyes never leaving yours as one hand cupped your cheek, delicately caressing it.

"Jagiya, you are the most talented woman I've ever known, and you can do whatever you wish to do. You inspire me every day."

"I wouldn't even know where to start." You relaxed in his touch, letting out a breath.

The warmth of his hand unexpectedly left your cheek, and that's when you saw him searching for something in the pocket of his jeans.

"Perhaps, you could start with these."

You blinked quickly observing the object your husband was holding before your eyes. You raised your eyebrows in confusion, not understanding why he was showing you a pair of rusty keys.

Then, a wave of realisation hit you.

Namjoon immediately noticed your eyes turning glazy and your mouth opening slightly in an expression of pure wonder. You grabbed the keys with trembling hands and clutched them to your chest, heart racing.

"The place is a bit run down, but I am sure that in a few months, we will manage to make it perfect."

Without wasting a second you threw your arms around his neck, and tears of happiness fell from your eyes. You couldn't believe it: your dream had just come true.

"I love you so much, Joon, I- I can't believe it. I love you!"

Namjoon stroked your hair, unable to resist tearing up with you, holding you close to him. At that moment, all he wished was for time to stand still and remain like that forever.

"I love you too, princess."

Happiness looked so good on you.

Please consider reblogging my works if you like them! <3

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mcufan72 · 21 days

Text

Sugar and Cinnamon

Loki x female reader (AU)/ 18+

Chapter 11

Chapter 10

Warnings: contains fluff, smut, angst, unprotected sex, alcohol and cigarette consumption, soft!dom/sub vibes, toxic relationship, morally grey stuff, blackmailing, abusive and insulting behaviour

Note: I hadn't much time to write lately and I don't know when it's going to change... my job is killing me these days. This chapter took 10 days to get written and it became a very long chapter (~11k words), so get some snacks and something to drink. I hope you enjoy.

You looked at him, swallowed, took a deep breath and then you began to tell him how it all started…

…nearly six months ago:

“Can we talk?” You asked Ralph after entering his office.

“Don't you see that I don't have any time to talk to you right now,” he answered harshly and stressed while reading the contract documents concerning the new advertising contract his marketing agency was ready to sign. The big deal that would catapult him and his company to the top of the marketing agencies in North America. He ran his fingers nervously through his dark brown hair, keeping his brown eyes fixed on the documents. “ We can talk later!”

“No, we need to talk now,” you told him strictly.

It had been a long day at work today like every day lately and you two had barely time to talk. And you two not talking properly to each other had been for months now. You and Ralph and the team around you were stuck deeply in negotiations with a production company for luxury wristwatches and thanks to your superb knowledge of marketing strategies and your excellent conversation tactics you finally got the deal for the new marketing campaign and the assignment from the wristwatch manufacturer. No, Ralph got the deal, the agency was his company, not yours. You were just his account manager in a leading position and his girlfriend for five years.

What you had to tell him was urgent and you had to tell him now. You didn't want to postpone this important conversation for the umpteenth time just because he always pretended to not have time for you. But you were his girlfriend and fiancée-to-be on hold and he had to have time for you, for heaven's sake. He didn't even raise his head to look at you when you approached his curved glass desk.

“I leave!”

“Yeah, good. Go home and get some rest. I don't know when I'll be back home. Might be late. Take a bath, shave and get pretty for me. I don't want to see you in a worn-out t-shirt and that ugly butterfly-patterned pyjama bottoms when I come home. Wear something nice … wear the red negligee, you know I like it. We can ‘celebrate’ my deal then.” He still didn't look at you and you grinned annoyed, shaking your head lightly.

“That's not what I meant, Ralph.”

“Then explain.”

“I leave. I leave the company… and you!” You thought it would be harder to tell him that but I wasn't. It felt more of a relief. Your relationship with him was in a crisis for months at this point and when you got aware of it you recognised that you didn't love him anymore. The love you once had felt for him had already faded away some time ago. So you decided to leave him, with all the consequences. You didn't want to hold on to a relationship that didn't make sense anymore even if that meant you had to find a new job. But you didn't worry about that. You were good at what you were doing and finding a new job in the marketing business wouldn't be a problem for you. Also, you wanted to pick up your studies again so you would be perfectly qualified to run your own business one day.

“Yeah, okay… wait, you what?” Ralph finally looked at you, frowning and astonished.

“I leave the agency and you. Look, I'll stay until the contract is signed. It takes approximately four weeks for our lawyers to verify the conditions before the signing so I'll stay until then. That's enough time for you to look for a new assistant and account manager. And if you're being honest our relationship is at a dead end and I know you can feel it too. I'm sorry if my announcement takes you a bit off guard but we hardly spend time with each other for months now. You're barely at home. I have a feeling that you keep avoiding me. And when you are at home you never really want to talk to me, we just have quick sex and maybe we have dinner together and…Ralph, I don't want to beat around the bush but… I don't love you anymore. The feeling isn't there anymore. It's gone, possibly on both sides. You became so loveless with time. But okay, it happens, that's life and there's nothing wrong with that. We both have changed and we both should move on. A relationship without love… it simply doesn't make sense and I like things to make sense. Let us look at this fantastic deal as our final big success on the long haul and then we both can start new things. Everyone for themselves. I think that's just fair,” you explained in a strict but friendly tone.

Ralph was a good-looking man, tall with broad shoulders, short dark hair, and hazelnut brown eyes, charming and good with words. That was why you fell for him five years ago. Now you knew that wasn't enough, there was so much more a healthy relationship needed and he couldn't give it to you or he didn't want to give it to you. And now after five years, you knew him well enough to be sure that he wasn't the right man for you so you decided to end it without causing further complications.

“What a silly girl you are, darling,” and he stood up from his leather executive chair, grinning at you dismissively. “Who do you think you are, hm?”

“I'm a strong woman who knows what she wants and what she doesn't want. And I don't want to be together with you anymore because you don't see me. You don't even have much time for me anymore just when you want to have sex and need to get some steam off. And that's not enough, Ralph. I want more and I deserve more. Please, accept my decision and that I don't have any feelings for you anymore and that there's nothing left that would be enough for a relationship or a marriage. I'm also sure it's more than difficult to continue working together after ending our relationship. Please, don't make it more awkward than necessary.” A scornful laugh escaped his throat.

“You're so ridiculous and such a stupid girl. I'll tell you what you want… this!” and he made a presenting gesture with his arms to underline his statement. “You want this job, you want me, the money and the luxury life it allows us. The penthouse, the luxury cars, designer clothes, the exclusive holidays in the world's best hotels. Do you really want to give all that up, darling? Do you really want to tell me you never appreciated all that?” You didn't like the contemptuous tone in his voice as if he were looking down on you.

“I never said that. I do appreciate our privileged life and all the amenities we have and I always worked hard for it so that we can have this kind of lifestyle. But it has nothing to do with love, it's just material and I want more than that and there's no love anymore between us, and you know it as well as I do.”

“We, darling, we worked hard for it. It's my agency, and in the end, it's my money but in my generosity, I always shared with you,” he insisted.

You swallowed down the words you wanted to throw at him because you knew who in this agency was doing the real work. It was you and Ralph's other highly qualified employees. He only harvested the fruits of your hard work and celebrated successes as his merits. He never cared about the fact that success is rather a team result than an individual achievement. A fact that bothered you more and more and added to the fact that you were losing the love you once had felt for him.

“And I know you want me. You can't live without me, can you? I'm the only one who knows what you need and what's good for you, hm? Because I can feel it whenever we have sex,” he tried to convince you, rounding his desk and walking towards you.

There must be something wrong with his feelings because it seemed he never had recognised how often you had faked your orgasms. He always did it his way. Hard, fast, and always dominant and he hated soft lovemaking. At some point, you began faking your climax to get finished soon with the bedroom activities which became more and more unsatisfying for you because Ralph just satisfied his own needs. And when you did it you better do it without questioning his masculinity. After some time you became very good at it. You better because otherwise he would've been in a foul mood for days and everyone around him including you would've felt the consequences. He stood close to you and with his sweaty palm, he cupped your cheek and ran his thumb firmly over your lips as if he wanted to wipe away the things you just said from your mouth like spilt food. Once his touches made you feel good but these days were truly gone and you didn't want him to touch you ever again.

“We had such a wonderful time together and always had good sex, didn't we?” He asked you smugly. He already needed to get his ego pampered again. A shiver ran down your spine and it wasn't because of lust.

“You always had good sex, not me,” you stated dryly.

“Ts ts ts…Darling, it's not my fault, it's you who's a little frigid sometimes but when you're in the right mood you can be such a horny slut and you know how much I like that,” he snickered. He wasn't completely wrong, you indeed liked some kinky stuff.

“I'm not frigid, you never listened to me when I asked you for some… sexy stuff to try or what I wanted to do in bed. Don't blame it on me alone, okay!” You said angrily.

“Darling, did your mother teach you to lie, hm?” His hand still cupped your cheek and you tried to escape from his touch.

“Don't put my mother into this,” you spat and pushed his hand away. “Our sex was never that good, not for me at least. You often left me high and dry and you didn't even care about that or ask or listen to me when I wanted to talk with you about it and what I needed to be satisfied too. You never cared. You never truly cared about me, did you? Gosh, I was so blind. Did you even love me, Ralph?” The thought struck you like a blow. How could you haven't seen this much earlier? How money could change someone so much and how much could someone be so blinded by love?

“Love, love… who needs love or romance? Money and success, that's what counts. Love is overrated, love is for kids and dogs,” he lamented, bored by what you were talking about.

“So you never loved me,” you stated disappointedly.

“Oh, I do, darling. At the beginning of our relationship, I definitely did. You were hot and eye candy and arm candy as well. You were pretty much of a head-turner, and you still are and I enjoy others looking at my beautiful girlfriend, especially our customers and business partners. It led to many successful deals that you're that pretty and smart. C’mon, doll, we both know that feelings can change and become different in a relationship and yes, maybe you're not my dream girl and I'm not your dream boy anymore, but that's why we don't have to split up right now, darling. We're such a successful team. C’mon it's just a phase, you're overworked and stressed out. Take a few days off. Drive to our house in the Hamptons and then everything will be fine again, okay? We'll fix our disagreements later when you're back,” he tried to appease you. “Don't be a drama queen! You don't want to leave me, I know it.” Ralph told you arrogantly and went back to his executive chair to sit down and pay attention to the contract documents again.

“You really don't get it, do you? It's not a phase, Ralph. It's a fact and I will leave,” you replied firmly. Ralph stayed silent, obviously getting pissed off more with every second your conversation continued. A look of scorn filled his eyes before he spoke again, his eyes fixed on yours.

“I think you're forgetting one tiny little detail,” He told you sneakily.

“What little detail? What do you mean?” you asked puzzled and frowning.

“Well, don't you remember our…little secret?” He winked at you and smirked. You suddenly remembered what he meant. You felt nauseous and a lump building in your throat made it heavy for you to breathe.

“What are you implying?” A further wave of nausea washed over you. He would never do that, would he?

“What about publishing it, darling?” He grinned devilishly. “For everyone to see.”

“No! No Ralph you can't do that! Ralph, please! No!” You begged him quietly and desperately. You panicked and swallowed thickly.

“It's all up to you, darling!” He stood up from his chair again and walked over to where you still stood, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dress trousers. He leaned toward you, rage and injured vanity in his eyes. And there was something else in his eyes. Fear?

“No one, absolutely no one leaves Ralph Belmont. So how dare you? No one screws things up with me! Not even you! Do you understand me, darling?” His voice sounded threatening and his face was so dangerously close to yours that you could feel his breath fanning over your face, his nose nudging almost against yours.

“I give you two options,” and he turned away from you and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Option one: You stay with me and in my agency, everything we just talked about will be forgotten and our little secret stays our secret. Option two…,” he turned around to face you “...you can leave the agency and me but you'll pay for it. A redemption sum so to say. In exchange, I won't publish our secret. Your decision, darling.” He smiled arrogantly.

“I can't and I won't stay with you, Ralph. Sooner or later you'll have to accept that,” you answered. Did he just try to blackmail you?

“It's option two then. Okay, if that's what you want, no problem. 250000 dollars and you're free. You have six months to transfer the money to my bank account with the note ‘Loan Repayment’. I think that's enough time for you to get the money together. Your working contract is dissolved with immediate effect, also you no longer have access to our bank account. Any questions, darling? I just want to make sure that things make sense for you.” The self-satisfied smile that curved his mouth disgusted you.

“What kind of cruel game are you playing here, Ralph? Are you doing this just because it hurts your pride when I leave you? You don't love me, you never really did. You just confirmed it. Let me go. You've got enough competent employees in the agency and there are more than enough women in this city who are waiting for a man like you and who'll throw themselves on you as soon as you're free. Do you think I never noticed that? So many women want a good-looking, filthy-rich man like you to fulfil their every wet and material dream. Now they can have you, I'm not interested anymore. You're not that man anymore I fell in love with. The more money we made the more you changed, and not for the best. You're not the same anymore, I guess the money did go to your head and you still crave for more.”

“What are you implying, hm? That I cheated on you, darling? Why should I, I have you to warm my bed. You should appreciate that,” he said, self-satisfied. “What about you?" He knew that you weren't that kind of girl. You'd never do that.

“Wow, where do I send flowers? Screw you, Ralph. You're such an asshole,” you answered sarcastically and repulsed.

“Ts, ts, ts, this is getting annoying. Be very careful, darling you're skating on thin ice. We both know that you're a little slut, hm?” He said sweetly, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “250000 bucks in six months! Save the date!” He said harshly and quite emphatically.

“Where shall I take the money from? I don't have that much and you know that!” your desperation grew. Why did he treat you like that?

“Not my problem. You decided to leave me. Now you know the consequences it has.” He sat down again, leaned back against the leather chair's backrest and crossed his arms behind his head, his eyes fixed on your shocked face.

“What's this game you're playing? Are you really blackmailing me? And what do you mean by ‘redemption sum’? For what? I always worked for my money. I worked my ass off for it and only for your profit! You never paid your employees properly or gave them any praise for their good work and I agreed to get paid better pocket money, especially in the beginning when we were building up our existence here. I did it for the company, for you and us. I even dropped my studies in London for you so that we could both move here, to New York and start a life because you didn't want to go without me and didn't want to wait a few months more until I finished my degree too. I did it for us because I always thought there was an ‘us’. We were in a relationship, I thought you loved me and I thought it would be forever.”

“Aww, look at you, so desperate now. Darling, not my problem. It was your decision to leave me and don't complain now, you'll have enough time now to study again and finish your exams,” he stated with utter sarcasm. “I invested a lot of money in you, haven't I? You had enough pocket money to spend on expensive, meaningless things and you also spent the money from our bank account. It seems you don't appreciate it enough and the things I did for you. I could've bought so many other nice things with all that money if I hadn't have spent it on you and your fancy clothes, cars, and other stuff. You want to leave me? Then you have to pay for it. Everything in life has its price, darling. And never forget about the dirty little secrets in my safe. One wrong step, one wrong action and I'll publish them all over the city and beyond. I'll ruin you, darling, if I have to. You'll never be able to work in our industry again when I'm done with you and you don't even have to try to hire for a job with our competitors. I'll find out and let them know what kind of woman you are. No one will employ you, I'll make sure of that. Never forget that, darling,” he grinned at you, smugly and viciously.

“You're such a disappointment in every hindsight. I'm glad to get rid of you. Pick up your stuff from your office and the penthouse. I expect you to be gone when I get back home. And don't forget to turn off the lights when you go and leave the keys with the receptionist. And now get out of my office. I've work to do,” and he busied himself with the contract documents again.

"You're such a devilish prick, Ralph Belmont. I can't believe how much I loved you once and that I did everything for you. You were never worth it. Unfortunately, it took me too long to see it. You're less than the dirt under my stilettos which I only ever wore for you because I wanted to look pretty for the man I loved. And it was you who wanted all those meaningless and material things, you dolled me up with all these clothes and shoes… you don't even know what my favourite colour is,” you answered, your voice trembling with disgust and disappointment. Disappointment about him and even more about yourself for not looking through him much earlier.

“Watch your mouth, darling. If I were a slut like you I'd be very careful about provoking me. You don't have any chance against me. Don't forget, you have six months! And now get out of my eyes!”

“Screw you, you bastard,” you spat with quivering lips, turned around and left his office.

***

Loki didn't know what to say after you had finished telling him what had happened to you the day you decided to leave your boyfriend. Tears welled up in his eyes when he saw how deeply hurt you were and how desperate. He kept holding your hands and tried to comfort you as best as he could.

“After that, I cleared my office, drove to our penthouse, packed my bags and left. I slept for some days in my best friend’s house until I found this apartment to rent. An apartment I can't afford much longer.” Tears began to run down your cheeks.

“So you became an escort lady to earn money for a living because you can't work in your business anymore,” Loki said and wiped your tears away.

“Yes, I contemplated a lot about what job I could do outside the marketing business and shortly after I stumbled over Rhea's escort agency. I found out that working as an escort was the fastest way to earn a lot of money in a short time… and it's still not fast enough or enough money at all. I changed my looks for the evenings when I was escorting gentlemen to functions and named myself Candy. Ralph's former arm candy, perfect in wearing high heels and fancy clothes and already a slut according to Ralph's opinion about me, had found her new job as an escort lady. Unfortunately, I was rapidly forced into getting a call girl because not only has my rent increased, the rent I pay for my mother's nursery home has increased as well.”

“Your mother lives in a nursery home? What happened to her, sweets?” Loki wanted to know, seemingly full of concern and compassion. “It's the woman in the pictures, right?”

“Yes, it's her, my beloved mum. She had a stroke some time ago and has been in a wheelchair since then. She needs professional help and care and so I looked for the best nursery home for her. My father died years ago and I'm an only child, I'm all she has. Ralph always thought I'd spent my money for whatever unnecessary things but I didn't. I paid for my mother's health care and I also spared a part of my money and now this saved money saves my life. But it's getting less and it has never been that much to buy my freedom from Ralph.

It wasn't easy for me to tell Rhea that circumstances are forcing me to work as a callgirl now too. The sheer thought of sleeping with strangers for money scared me. I don't know if you believe me but there was only ever you who I could imagine having sex with. I could never have done it with anyone else. And I still regret faking my orgasm when we fucked for the first time. It wasn't because I wanted to fool you, it was because I didn't want to feel that good. You felt so good, Loki and you were so tender and caring and I wasn't used to being treated like that and being treated so lovingly, especially not from a stranger. I was afraid of catching feelings for you and I couldn't allow it. It would've broken my rules to never develop feelings for a client or to ever fall in love again. But I failed, I began to feel more for you than I should and I broke my rules but I don't regret it,” you smiled at him but you couldn't stop your tears from falling. Loki looked lovingly at you and squeezed your hands to reassure you that he believed you and that he was there for you no matter what.

“What did he mean by the ‘dirty little secret’ in his safe? With what is he blackmailing you, sweets?” Loki asked his voice calm and soothingly. You hesitated to tell him. You were so ashamed of what you had agreed to do with and for Ralph and you were afraid that Loki wouldn't want you anymore when he finally got to know the truth. He felt your insecurity and anxiety to tell him everything and it broke his heart how much your hands were trembling in his. He just wished you would finally open up to him completely so he could finally help you in the way you needed him to help you. You just feared he would never talk to you again or find you disgusting.

“He's blackmailing me with…,” you felt like you had to puke and you took a deep breath before you continued. “He's blackmailing me with nude pics and… a sex tape.” Your tear-filled eyes looked into Loki's, trying to find out what he was thinking about you, now that he knew what whorish things you had done. But Loki said nothing so you continued telling him the details while tears kept running down your cheeks.

“He took the pictures of me and filmed us during sex some time ago when we were madly in love… or that was what I thought we were. On my part, I definitely was in love with him. I was so naive… but I trusted him and so I agreed to it. I was so dumb, I should never have allowed him to take these pictures or make this private porn.”

“You're not dumb, sweets. You were in love and what is love when you can't trust your partner? Unfortunately, he didn't love you enough but you couldn't know that,” he tried to comfort you despite knowing there was no real consolation right now. “So he filmed you. What about him in this tape?”

“Yes, he did, you can see how I get fucked by him in several ways but… his face is never visible and I'm not sure anymore if he did it on purpose back then for whatever reason or really just for himself or ourselves. He got me on the dangle and I'm at his mercy.” A desperate sob escaped your throat and your gaze wandered through your small apartment. “I don't know what to do, Loki. I don't have that money and time is slipping through my hands. In a few days, it's payday and if I don't pay he'll publish it.”

The panic in your gut grew immediately. Loki felt bad for you. He had no problems with any form of sex or kinks but he couldn't handle that this asshole took advantage of you, your abilities and your body in every way possible all over those years and now turned your trust and the love you once had for Ralph against you. You loosened your hands from Loki's, shifted on the sofa and sat back against the sofa's backrest. You pulled your knees close to your chest, wrapped your arms around them and stared into the void. You didn't want to be afraid, you wanted to be happy and free again. You wanted to live without so much fear.

Loki felt the rage in his gut rising and getting stronger. The sight of you curled up on the couch and your knees drawn to your chest, your face pale and your eyes teary, didn't help to get rid of this feeling. You, his precious girl, didn't deserve to be treated like this.

“Maybe I should sell one of my kidneys or rob a bank to be able to pay him,” you said, laughing and irony scurrying over your face.

There was it again, your never dying, beautiful laughter, your untamed will to feel alive and be happy no matter how big the pain is. Loki adored you for this and he couldn't help but join you in your laughter and sarcasm for a moment.

“I got everything you told me so far, sweets but what did he mean with ‘redemption sum’? I still don't get this part,” Loki questioned curiously and frowned.

“He wants to make me pay back for everything he ever invested in me, I guess. Everything belongs to him, Loki. The money, the cars, the penthouse, the house in the Hamptons, he bought my designer clothes and evening gowns and dolled me up to his liking to parade me around. He paid for everything we did together like luxury holidays for example. He always said it's our common wealth and we both should enjoy it. I helped him to get this rich and I also helped him to reach all the goals he wanted to reach. But everything happened in his name for his company. I think, at some point, I wasn't my own person anymore. I did most of the work together with his other employees, and the more money he earned the less I mattered to him… and my love for him slowly faded away. He didn't even recognise that. Tells a lot about his character, I guess. That he now behaves how he behaves is most likely because I crushed his pride by leaving him and that he's blackmailing me is possibly the only way for him to hold power over me and to keep me in his company. I'm sure he knows very well how much he owes me. It's a cruel game he's playing with me and it doesn't make any sense to me. Most of all I despise my own stupidity in not refusing that damn photoshoot…and allowing him to film us having sex was the biggest mistake I've ever made. I don't understand why I agreed to make a private porn video. I'm so disgusted by myself.”

The embarrassment made your eyes welling up with tears again and you angrily wiped them away with your palms. You couldn't turn back the time or the decisions you made and there was just one way now: grin and bear it and get everything sorted out. Self-pitying wasn't helpful at this point.

“I never wanted all this mass of luxury, you know. Of course, I like nice things and going shopping for fancy stuff. But I don't crave it, I don't need all those fancy clothes and shoes or jewellery, holidays in expensive hotels and their overpriced presidential suites, or fancy six-course menus. He wanted all of this and put me in those clothes and pretty places. A small cosy cottage at a beach, a glass of wine on the porch, casual food at a beach bar, swimming in the ocean and my bare feet in the sand, dancing in the moonlight and having sex on the beach… that was what I wanted to do but he never listened to me or fulfilled these little dreams of mine. He always wanted it his way and I agreed because I loved him and was afraid to lose him. All I ever wanted was to live and to love someone and I wanna be loved by a man whose feelings for me are sincere and genuine. I wanna feel safe…and I want to give all of those feelings to someone who deserves all of this as much as I do. A normal, healthy life and a normal, healthy relationship. To always say yes to everything and to sacrifice myself and my wishes for someone else's success wasn't healthy, always playing the supportive role instead of the main role…that was far away from having an equal and healthy relationship. When there's one thing I've learned then it's that I have to love myself too and that I have a right to get my dreams fulfilled as well and that was the reason why I finally broke up with Ralph and the break-up brought me in this fucked up situation. I still don't know what is hurting me more. The fact that Ralph is blackmailing me or that he never truly loved me. I was just a means to an end. Maybe I should laugh about him. He's a weakling, a douchebag, unable to put something on his own, humanly a total loser and in general a loser in life too. He never cared about me or was overly interested in my life or cared about my mum. He only ever cared about money. I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with him, Loki, I thought it would be forever until I found out how he really is, how evil and devilish. He's a failure, a failure in a pinstripe suit. And now he wants to punish me for leaving him and spending ‘his’ money. He wants to ruin me and make me believe that I was the one who took advantage of him and lived at his expense.”

“But you worked for it, sweets. You worked harder for it than him. He has no right to demand and reclaim anything from you.”

“Yeah, you're right but there's nothing I can do about that. And it still feels like there's more about it, that I only know half of the truth about him. I'm sure there's more about it that he demands so much money from me.”

“Why didn't you report him, sweets?”

“He has connections everywhere, Loki. From the Police department to the best lawyers, he knows a lot of people with a lot of influence and he has all the money to pay them all well and buy himself free from criminal offenses. I wouldn't have a hint of a chance.”

“Why did you stay with him that long?”

“I don't know. Maybe because I didn't want to give up on my hopes that we could still have a future together. Maybe because we were too used to each other and clinging too much to old habits. Maybe it was the refusal to accept that our love had died at some point in time. Maybe I was afraid of being alone. I don't know. The only thing I know is that I didn't stay with him because of the money and the privileged lifestyle. The things I wanted weren't material. What I always missed over the years was the love and the adoration for each other. The richer he got the more heartless he became. The lack of love and care was the worst. And it took me too long to see it.” You began quietly sobbing and crying, every dam inside of you broke.

“Now you know my truth and I hope you understand now why I wanted to keep you out of this and left you that night. I told you that the real me has nothing to do with the pretty, carefree and sexy Sugar, my alter ego, the fake personality you fell in love with. I never intended to hurt you, Loki. I know I did and I'm so sorry for that. I totally understand if you want to go now because you deserve a better woman than me whose life is fucked up and whose sex life might be published all over the country in a few days.”

“You should know that I won't leave you alone, no matter what happens. Do you still not believe me that I'm in love with you? I don't care about what you did and why, you had no other choice and who am I to judge you? You still wanted me to stay despite what I did in the past. And you definitely didn't do anything wrong. I'll stay, I won't go.” Loki could deal with a lot of things. Hate, rejection, wrath, rudeness but not with you, his precious girl, sitting on your sofa blaming everything that had happened on you and crying a river because of that damn prick Ralph.

“Come here, sweets,” and he pulled you into his lap cradling you tight. He rubbed your back gently and you leaned against him, your head resting in the crook of his neck.

“I always knew that there's a wonderful, lovable and sweet person behind the mask named Sugar. I saw so many hints of it whenever we met and I'm glad that I have found this amazing woman. Have you any idea how strong you are? I promise you we'll figure out how to bring him down and we'll figure it out together.”

“Can you please hold me for a while? I need to be held by you, Loki,” and you began to cry again.

“Of course, as long as you want me to, sweets,” Loki kissed you softly on the forehead, rocked you slowly back and forth and just held you tightly until you felt better and had no more tears inside of you to shed.

“Please, sweets take my money and pay him and then…” he began to talk again.

“No, Loki, I won't do that,” you interrupted him quietly.

“Y/n please don't let us have this discussion again…” He begged you nicely.

“No, please don't get me wrong, Loki. It's not that I wouldn't take your money to pay him, which is extremely nice and generous of you. No, it's because I think he won't stop blackmailing me if I give him the money he demands from me. I'm pretty sure he won't stop blackmailing me because if he gets the money from me he might think I'm capable of paying more and that I can do it again and again. Believe me, he is that type of guy. He never gets enough, he's insatiable. I need to find another way. I'm afraid I need to talk to him again. Maybe… maybe I should… offer him to… to sleep with me one more time, maybe then he lets me go.” The thought made you shiver in disgust.

“This will never happen! He will never ever touch you again, y/n!” Loki said firmly and sternly. He carefully grabbed you by your shoulders and looked deeply into your teary eyes. “You're under my protection and I will never allow or accept this! Please, don't do this to me,” he told you desperately.

“I'm sorry, Loki, I'm so sorry, I won't do it, I promise but I really don't know what else to do…,” and you hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you closer to him.

“I'll find a way to stop him. I promise with all of my heart and soul, I'll stop him,” he cooed and buried his face in your hair. You were his, only his and he would protect you at all costs, always.

Out of nowhere your stomach growled and it made you both chuckle.

“It seems my queen is hungry and needs to get fed,” Loki answered and smiled at you.

“Your queen?” you asked him surprised and you were definitely hungry. No matter how big your problems were, you would never refuse to eat.

“Oh, right I forgot where you come from, I'm sorry Loki,” you continued genuinely and kissed his mouth tenderly.

“Yes, you're my queen, sweet thing and I can't have you starving. I have a suggestion. I'm doing groceries for some food and I cook something for us and you can clean up your apartment a bit. Then we eat and after lunch, you can finish your today's work and we spend the rest of the evening together… and the night if you want. What do you think, sweets? Would you like that?” Loki grinned from ear to ear, very proud of his irresistible proposal.

“You can cook?” you asked astonished. This man was just full of surprises and really cared about your well-being. And of course, you wanted him to stay.

“Yes, I can. I had a lot of time here to learn it,” Loki confirmed.

“Wow, you're really talented. You're amazing and I'm truly blessed with a man like you. Yeah, that's a really good plan. Thank you, Loki,” and you kissed him again. You could do this all day long and stay wrapped around him 24/7.

A knock at your entrance door interrupted your making out and you let go of each other's lips.

“Do you expect someone?" Loki asked and looked quizzically at you.

“No, I don't expect anyone,” and you got off of his lap. You took a sweatpants on and headed for the door to open it.

“Hello y/n, I'm very sorry for disturbing you but…”

“Walker!” and you hugged that rock of a man with genuine thankfulness. Your stormy embrace took him off guard and he shyly reciprocated your hug.

“You're not mad at me?” He asked you insecurely. You let go of him and looked at him.

“How could I be mad at you? You helped my man to find me and brought him back to me. And I'm so grateful for it, Walker. Thank you, thank you for your help, you risked a lot for us,” you told him and gave him an amicable kiss on his cheek. Walker was taken aback by it, he never expected this adorable behaviour of yours and he slightly blushed but he always knew what a wonderful person you were so he wasn't really surprised. You were lovely and that's why he always cared that much about you.

“Will you tell Rhea?” He wanted to know.

“No, Walker, I won't tell her. If she should find it out by herself I won't lie to her, she always has been good to me and so have you. I would explain to her why you did it and I would fight for you. You won't lose your job, I promise,” you reassured him. Loki appeared behind you and wrapped one arm around your waist, placed his hand on your stomach, kissed your cheek and looked at Walker, smiling.

“Thank you, y/n, I appreciate it. You have a heart of gold. Is everything okay so far?” Walker looked smilingly at both of you and Loki pulled you closer to his body, his chin leaning at your temple.

“Yes!” You both answered simultaneously and smiled brightly at Walker and he told you he was glad to hear that. He could see how happy you two were despite knowing that you were still in some kind of danger he didn't know anything about.

“Could you do me a favour, Walker?” Loki asked him.

“Of course, Sir.”

“Could you please drive me to a grocery store, I'd like to buy some foodstuff, this beautiful lady here in my arms is starving and I can't have that. I just get fully dressed and then we can drive off.”

“No problem, Sir, I wait by the car for you,”

“Thanks, Walker. Give me five minutes,” Loki said. Walker nodded once and smiled at you, turned on his heels and left. He could go with a good conscience and to see you so lucky in all your misery and together with the man you visibly loved was worth it to risk his job.

Loki got dressed and kissed you goodbye.

“You come back to me, right?”

“Of course, I will come back to you, sweets.” He held your head in his big hands, his thumb pads gently rubbing over the soft skin of your cheeks, and kissed the tip of your nose.

“Will you open the door for me when I'm back from doing the groceries, my precious girl?” He asked you softly. You took his hands gently from your face and walked over to your dresser to take something out of a small wooden bowl.

“You can let yourself in, handsome. Can't wait to have you back,” you said quietly, kissed him shortly but passionately and gave him your keychain with the key to your apartment. Loki smiled at you, astonished that you gave him your keys without hesitating.

“I'll be back soon, sweets,” he answered, gave you a further quick, loving kiss and left.

When Loki came back you had put things in order in your apartment, your table wasn't a complete disaster anymore and it would be much easier for you to get back to work later. He immediately began to prepare the ingredients he needed for cooking a tasty meal for you. You two decided to eat at the kitchen counter and you prepared two places with cutlery and napkins. Loki forbid you to do more than this. He wanted you to take some rest and he also wanted to spoil you with his cooking skills and his care. You couldn't do anything about it, so you obeyed and just watched him stirring in a pot and frying fish in a pan. It smelled delicious and Loki cooking in your small kitchen was a sight to behold. A literal demi-god, devastatingly beautiful and sexy in his tightfitting t-shirt, was cooking in your kitchen, and he did it for you.

You were on the edge of crying again. His ways to show you his love and affection were adorable and you were still convinced that you didn't deserve it. You rounded the kitchen counter and hugged him from behind, shoving your hands under his t-shirt and letting your fingertips trail over his defined abs in lazy circles up to his pecs to caress his chest hair. You couldn't resist touching him. You needed to reassure yourself that he was real and that you weren't daydreaming.

“Don't you dare distract me, sweet thing,” he groaned jokingly.

“I'm hungry,” you whined and pressed a firm kiss between his clothed shoulder blades.

“I know, sweets and it seems you want the dessert before the main course,” he teased you and turned around to face and hug you. Your hands were still under his shirt and caressed now the firm muscles of his back.

“The best comes last,” you teased him back and bit lightly into your lower lip. You felt the muscles of his thighs and his crotch tightly pressed against your lower parts and you let your hands trailing down to his butt, squeezing it and pressing him even closer to you.

“I think you have to be patient, sweet thing. Before you'll get your special dessert I have a sweet little surprise for you,” he said to increase your anticipation. It was just now that he realized that you had touched his bare skin again without his permission. Why did it feel that good, dangerously good? Your warm hands on his body lit a fire in him again and he wanted it to burn forever. Your hands on him were dangerous but one of the best feelings he ever felt.

“Can't wait for it,” you mumbled, tilted your head, and latched your lips onto his. You would never get enough of this man's soft lips and his delicious taste. If only you knew what it was that made his kisses that tasty.

“We can eat now, sweets. Take a seat, I will serve you the food,” and he let go of your mouth and body and prepared two dishes with the freshly cooked food.

“Et voilà, freshly fried salmon on a bed of spicy spinach leaves and some rice as a side dish with a light herbal sauce. Enjoy your meal, my love,” and Loki placed your dish with an elegant movement in front of you. Did he just call you ‘my love’? Never before had a man called you like this and you never felt so loved by a man. And it felt so normal like you two were in a serious relationship but maybe it went way too fast and way too easy.

“Thank you so much, Loki. It looks gorgeous,” and you dipped your fork into the fish and the spinach and shoved it into your mouth. The wonderful taste of it on your tongue made you moan almost indecently and your reaction made Loki smile. He loved how sensually you enjoyed food.

“It's delicious, I love it. It's the best dish I've eaten in two weeks.”

“I'm happy you like it, sweets,” Loki responded and he also started eating. You didn't talk much during your lunch, you just enjoyed each other's company. Loki's little surprise for you was a chocolate mousse with fresh strawberries and he couldn't resist feeding you this sweet treat, well knowing that you would never deny a good dessert.

In the afternoon you continued writing your thesis and Loki sat on your sofa, reading one of the books he had taken from your bookshelf. He didn't disturb you, he was just there and his sheer presence filled you with calmness and security. It was balm to your soul in all the stress and anxiety you were suffering these days. In the evening you watched a movie together but you didn't follow the plot because you soon ended up heavily making out and Loki carried you to your bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. You two hurriedly took your clothes off and continued kissing and touching each other's bare skin. You did it slowly and gently and you weren't in a hurry anymore as soon as you were cuddling under the sheets. All the touches made Loki's cock twitch and you felt the wetness between your thighs becoming more with every passionate kiss he gave you.

“Mark me, Loki. I want everyone to know that I belong to someone, that I belong to you,” you whispered to his ear and continued kissing him and playing with his curls.

“Are you sure, sweets? I don't want to bruise your perfect skin. You're too precious to me,” he answered softly and brushed your hair tenderly out of your face.

“Yes, I want it, I want you to mark me as yours,” you asked him.

He gave you a soft, passionate kiss first before his lips travelled further down to your throat and the most sensitive spot under your ear. He placed a tender kiss right to your pulse point before he sucked and nibbled that erotic zone of yours until he saw a violet mark appearing on your skin. He licked gently over the bruise and blew some air over it to soothe the sweet pain he had caused. All the moans you made and the way you were writhing underneath him while he was kissing you had already made him harden and you felt him rolling his hips against your thigh. Then he was on top of you, pressing his engorged cock against your thigh and moistening it with pre-cum. Your hard nipples rubbed against his chest with his every movement and it made him moan and tremble because it felt so good on his skin. Your hands were roaming all over his body and caressing him. He never wanted to miss this feeling ever again. He felt you shifting beneath him and opening your legs for him. He rolled his hips against yours and with his shaft he rubbed over your inner labia and your clit. Your soft moans and your tight grip on his back and his nape caused goosebumps on his heated skin. The tip of his cock teased your entrance and when he was about to slide in you tenderly stopped him.

“Don't you want to blindfold me? If you want you can tie up my wrists too,” you trusted him enough to allow him to do it and to surrender to him.

“No, I want you to touch me. Touch me here,” and he gently took your hand and placed it to his sternum where his heart was beating hurriedly. “Make me feel I'm breathing, I'm living, make me feel worthy of your touch, worthy of your love. I want you to look at me and I want to look into your eyes when you cum, sweets.” In his eyes, you saw he was serious and he truly wanted it.

“So whenever you blindfolded me, you did it not just for the kink. You wanted to hide from me. I didn't imagine the blue shimmer under your skin, right? It has something to do with you being a Jotun,” you concluded, tenderly running a thumb over his cheek.

“You didn't imagine it, I'm sorry that I told you otherwise. I was scared and I didn't want to scare you off. When I have strong feelings for the woman I mate with, I may lose control and can't keep up the appearance you're used to. And being touched by your hands just adds to the sensation. And also my skin feels different then. These are the reasons why I didn't want you to touch me.” Loki was afraid you would demand him to stop and get off of you immediately but you didn't.

“You don't scare me off, you never could,” you whispered and pulled him down to kiss him ardently. “Go on, Loki, I need you,” you pleaded him sweetly.

“Sure?”

“Absolutely sure,” and he slid himself inside you until he was completely seated inside of you.

His strokes were deep and slow and he made the sweetest love to you. He was so tender and careful, with utter gentleness he caressed and kissed every part of your body he was able to reach in this position.

“I love you so much, I don't want to live without you anymore. Please, never run away again, sweets,” he asked you between his lingering kisses.

“You're my everything, Loki. I missed you so bad, I'm so glad to have you back, that you haven't given up on me. I will never run away from you again,” you murmured and you scratched lightly with your fingernails over the soft skin of his muscled back. You gave featherlight kisses to his cheeks and his forehead. His skin was glistening with a thin layer of sweat and your touches made him shiver. His strokes got sloppier and his moans more intense. You felt how close he was but he still held back. He could tell you wouldn't cum yet, together with him. He looked at you with asking eyes, unsure if he should go on or take care of your pleasure first. You sensed his hesitation but you gave him a reassuring glance to continue.

“I'm okay, don't worry. It feels good, don't stop. Come for me, Loki. Come undone for me, my precious boy, I have you,” you whispered against his lips and his speed increased. He groaned silently, his hips drawing back and pushed forward again, his throbbing cock thrusting deep into your pulsating cunt. You weren't on the brink of climaxing yet but it didn't matter. You enjoyed the intimacy and how close he was to you, how soft his skin felt under your fingertips, and how passionately he gave himself to you. There wasn't any pressure for you to orgasm and whoever told you to make love in missionary pose is boring was a liar. Nothing felt better or more intimate and intense. You definitely enjoyed it.

“Let go, my love, fill me with your cum, make me happy, let me feel you” and you trailed your fingers gently up from his lower back to his shoulders and his biceps. When you felt his whole body tighten and his moans getting more desperate, you spread your legs wider and grabbed his ass cheeks and squeezed them firmly. You knew he was about to cum. “That's it, you're allowed to cum Loki, give it all to me. Don't hide, you can show me who you are,” you murmured, kissing and caressing his throat and his face with your lips and tightening your grip on his butt.

“Oh fuck…,” and with your name on his lips he came, violently and delightfully moaning, feeling your cunt clenching around his sensitive tip and when you felt him releasing his warm seed into you you came too, silently, calmly, intensely, bathing in the sweet feeling of being loved and craved. You kissed each other passionately, intensifying the orgasmic bliss. You locked your legs around his waist because you knew how much he liked that and also you were not yet willing to let him go. You loved this feeling of his still throbbing cock inside of you. His kiss burned torturously sweet on your lips and you could barely stand the feeling of the weight of his body on top of yours and you really had underestimated how much you needed this, how much you needed him.

Loki broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours, trying to catch his breath. You both didn't say anything, you just looked at each other and enjoyed this feeling of satisfied lust and love. You caressed Loki's scalp and scratched his nape tenderly, watching the hint of the blue colour under his skin and the red shimmer in his eyes slowly fading away. Loki gently caressed your cheeks and kissed the tip of your nose tenderly.

“Are you alright, sweet thing?” he murmured, softly pressing a further tender kiss to the tip of your nose. Instead of an answer he felt your legs clenching more firmly around his hips and your deep purr of contentment made him feel safe and wanted.

“I really didn't scare you? I…I couldn't show it to you completely yet, I'm still too used to hiding it. I think I need some time to understand that you would accept me nonetheless,” Loki mumbled shyly.

“Take all the time you need. You decide when it feels right for you and then you can show me your ethereal beauty,” Loki kissed you tenderly and thankfully and couldn't believe that you were so understanding in every respect.

“I wished we had met under different circumstances,” you whispered while you gave him several pecks on his lips, some sadness in your voice.

“Honestly, I'm pretty sure we did,” Loki said, convinced and moved his body from yours to lay on his side. You rolled to your side too so you could face him and propped up on one elbow, your head resting on your palm.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember the day when we first met at Vivian's Velvet? Rain was pouring down that day. I had just called Rhea, made an appointment with an escort lady, which was you, and was on my way home when a hooded woman bumped into me.”

“This is nothing unusual in Manhattan.”

“It's not, you're right. I couldn't see her face but I remember the shoes she was wearing…dark-green trainers like yours. It's my favourite colour and that's why the trainers caught my eye,” Loki continued and you frowned and looked quizzically at him.

“You mean, we could've had a meet-cute, flirting, dating and all that lovely kitschy stuff others have when meeting accidentally somewhere? Because… I remember I was in a hurry to Rhea's agency and I bumped into someone with an umbrella… it was…”

“... me, the man with the umbrella. And I'm sure I saw you a second time, in the hallway of the hotel after our first night, when I lost my scarf. I went back to the hotel suite to look for it and a woman walked past me. I greeted her but she didn't answer. She was busy looking for something in her bag and I couldn't see her face, it was hidden behind her hair. And she was wearing dark-green trainers, the same again as yours.” You swallowed thickly, you clearly remembered that night.

“Yeah, I remember. I was looking for my biscuits in my bag because I was a bit hungry and… I didn't answer because I had my earplugs in and was listening to music, I didn't even recognise walking past someone.

“And there was a third time. In Central Park, one sunny afternoon I was sitting on a bench and reading a book. When I randomly looked up, two women passed by, I just saw them from behind, one of them talking nonstop to the other woman… and this woman…”

“...wore the same dark-green trainers like mine?” You completed his sentence. “I'm sure it was me and my friend Gabby, we met one afternoon in Central Park and on our way home she talked a lot,” you laughed and you couldn't believe how many chances there had been to meet Loki in the streets and he couldn't believe it either.

“Besides I don't know what I would have done, it's amazing how many times we ran into each other, how close we had been to each other without knowing it,” you realized.

“But it wasn't meant to be for us. Our way is a different one, more complicated but we'll go this way together. I'm sure everything should exactly happen the way it happened. At least it doesn't matter. We're together now and that's the only thing important to me. Come here, sweets,” and Loki pulled you into his arms and hugged you tightly.

“You're right, and I'm just happy to have you here. Thank you for being here and holding me.” You enjoyed his proximity for a moment before you continued to speak.

“Loki, I'm not sure if I'm ready for a new relationship yet. It terrifies me. I might need some time to get over my bad experience and I hope you understand that it's not easy for me to love someone again.”

“Your scars need time to heal, sweets and I'll give you all the time you need. I also know it's not easy to love me. I'm an otherworldly creature with a dubious past and how could I expect an angel like you to love a sinner like me that easily.”

“You stop saying that right away, okay? That's not the reason. You're wonderful! A loveable, attentive and sensual man, you're everything a woman can dream of… everything I'm dreaming of. It's me, Loki. My life is so fucked up, and you deserve better, a better woman than me…I really wish we would've met under different circumstances… the girl in the rain…”

“...bumping into the man with the umbrella…Now you stop saying that right away, sweets. You're gorgeous, and you are the one for me and I say it again, I'll give you all the time you need,” and he tightened his grip on you, kissing you softly.

“Loki, I would've slept with you without taking money from you because I never really wanted you to pay for me. I just want to be yours and yours only,” you whispered tiredly and snuggled up closer to him.

“And I would've paid any price for you just to be with you and to make sure that no other man touches and hurts what is mine,” he answered quietly with his wonderful velvety voice.

To the sound of his heartbeat, you fell asleep on his chest, protected by his strong arms which were still firmly wrapped around you as if he were afraid you could be gone when he woke up in the morning.

“I'll do this one thing for you and make sure that this son of a bitch will never hurt you again,” Loki whispered into the darkness of your bedroom and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. But you didn't hear him because you were already sleeping and with you closely snuggled up to him he closed his eyes and fell asleep too.

The next morning when you woke up the place in your bed next to you was cold and empty. For a moment you thought he was gone and you suddenly understand how he must've felt when he woke up that morning without you. It was a horrible feeling. But then you heard some noises from the main room of your apartment. You got off the bed and walked over to where the sounds came from. There was Loki, nearly fully dressed already and about to leave.

“What are you doing?” you asked him surprised.

“Hey, good morning, my sweet thing. You're awake. I didn't want to wake you up. I just need to do something before we have breakfast. I'll be back soon, my love. Take your time and enjoy a hot shower until I'm back. I won't take long, I promise,” he explained to you. Something seemed a bit off but you couldn't explain what it was.

“See you later, my sweet girl and I'll prepare a wonderful breakfast for you when I'm back,” and he kissed you passionately goodbye. There was something very erotic about him being fully dressed and you still being naked. You found it irresistibly indecent and arousing.

“Sounds very promising, handsome. I'll be waiting for you to come back soon,” you told him softly.

You smiled brightly after he had closed the door and you took a mug from the cupboard to make you a coffee. You couldn't wait to have him back soon though he had just left but you already missed him. You thought about yesterday and last night, about how Loki had been there for you and listened to you and about your adoration and blooming love for Loki when it suddenly hit you like a rock.

‘You're a fallen angel, someone has broken your wings and if I ever find this cruel prick who hurt you so much, I'll kill him’

‘Don't make any promises you'll never keep, Luke’

‘I'll find a way to stop him. I promise with all of my heart and soul, I'll stop him ‘

“Oh my god Loki, no… no nono no… Don't do this…no…” you panicked and nearly dropped your coffee mug. You suddenly knew what it was he needed to do before breakfast. He surely was on his way to pay a visit to Ralph. He was willing to risk his freedom for you, willing to help you, no matter what it might mean to him or the consequences it could have for him. Never before have you got showered and dressed that quickly. Hopefully, it wasn't too late to keep him from falling into calamity.

Last night before he fell asleep with you nestled in his arms, sleeping peacefully, he knew what he had to do. He remembered who he was and what he was capable of. He was a prince, a king, a fighter and still the god of mischief and trickery.

He was willing to write a new story for you and hopefully, he would be a part of it too in one way or another. He was on his way to fight for your honour and freeing you from Ralph and nothing could stop him from doing it.

🌹🥂🥃🌃🌹🥂🥃🌃❤️🌹🥂🥃🌃🌹🥂🥃🌃

@faesimps @gruftiela @lokisprettygirl @anukulee @fandxmslxt69 @foxherder @depressedpolishgirl @buttercupcookies-blog @chantsdemarins @fictive-sl0th @justjoanne242 @km-ffluv @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lovingchoices @wheredafandomat @lokixryss @huntress-artemiss @smolvenger

#loki #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x reader fluff #loki laufeyson #loki x reader fic #loki x reader angst #loki x reader smut #loki x fem!reader smut #jotun loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki x female reader angst #loki x female reader fluff #loki x fem!reader #loki x female reader au #Spotify

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scrixtcn · 1 year

Text

diamonds in the sky

genre: sugar daddy/ceo!au | strangers to lovers!au | equal amounts of fluff and complicated not quite angst but angsty feelings

pairing: choi seungcheol x reader

word count: 12.2k

a/n: coups is sweet and caring but also is perfectly able to throw money at his problems for them to not be problems anymore. also him in any kind of suit kills me.

You knew this would be another one of those nights.

“This way, darlings,” the hotel manager whistles while ushering you and three other girls out of the elevator. “They won’t wait, you know.”

At the very top of the building is the hotel bar, a rather infamous location frequented by the rich and elite 1%. Word on the street had the Starlight bar as the coveted meetup for all sorts of transactions—both shady and open market deals between those seeking and those offering their “services” for a price. You belonged to the unfortunate latter, one slip-up in the contract signing you off as a female escort rather than the aspiring model that had been advertised in the agency’s flyers.

“Can I borrow some lipstick?”

You dig through your silver clutch, coming up empty-handed at hearing your fellow escort/best friend’s inquiry.

“Sorry, Hana, I don’t have any on me.”

The girl on the right hands over hers, and you stifle a giggle at the orange shade that doesn’t fit Hana’s look at all.

“Hana,” you begin slowly, holding out a compact mirror, “You might want to look at yourself before going in.”

She glances at the reflection and screams, the shrill sound startling even the manager. He turns around from his conversation at the bar counter, wondering if everything is alright. Not wanting to start a fuss, Hana nods furiously and tugs you aside, giving dirty glares to the one who offered her the disastrous tube of lipstick in the first place.

“Please tell me you have something—anything—in your bag to save my lips.”

“Well…” You look again and settle on a pack of tissues and clear lip gloss. “Maybe you can wipe it off?”

Letting out a low growl, she takes you on the offer and excuses herself from the group to freshen up in the bathroom. Left alone with the other two girls, you shrug off the questions on Hana’s outburst with an apologetic smile. No need to offer more than necessary to girls you probably wouldn’t ever see again.

Once the bartender announces that the guests in the private rooms are ready and waiting, you start to follow the others, only to be held back by a firm hand.

“One of the clients is arriving late,” the manager informs you, “Can you go to the 3rd floor instead?”

You frown. “This wasn’t what was paid for.

“And why me? Why me and not them?”

“You were handpicked,” the manager answers, giving you a once-over. “Y/N, right? He said you’d be wearing a black off-shoulder dress with frills?”

The exact description of your outfit brings bitterness to your tongue. There was only one person who knew exactly what you’d be wearing tonight—the guy who had gifted you the dress during one of your nights with him the week before.

“Fine,” you grumble, “But tell Jeonghan he owes me double from what he usually pays.”

—

Yoon Jeonghan was a snake if you ever saw one.

You were never able to pinpoint why he was so infatuated with you, always eager to see you whenever your paths crossed during your other “work events”. There were times when he even called the agency to specifically ask for your company, earning yourself the title as “Jeonghan’s favorite” amongst your colleagues. Maybe he did like spending time with you. Or maybe… maybe he just wanted a new toy to play with after he got bored with his other girlies.

As expected, Jeonghan extends his arms for a hug the moment you get out of the elevator to the 3rd floor, a gesture you purposely avoid to show your displeasure at being pulled aside from the group call you had agreed to.

“Who stepped on your tail?” he asks coyly, giving a mock bow to kiss your hand. “Love the dress, by the way.”

“I didn’t know you’d be here tonight,” you answer crisply, “Let alone pull me aside to cater to whatever scheme you’re plotting right now.”

He laughs, a devilish sound like you just stumbled right into his clutches. “Everything will play out as it always does.”

A card key is tossed your direction before you can press on for more details.

“I need you to keep a look out for my friend. He’s staying in this room.”

You catch it before it falls to the floor and study the card. VIP Suite. Not an ordinary person by the looks of it.

“Why me?”

“Believe it or not, I don’t trust anyone else but you.”

Hearing Jeonghan mention trust brings an unexpected cackle from your throat. Since when was the devil trustworthy?

“I’m serious,” he repeats, turning tail and holding up a hand. “Take good care of him, sweetheart.”

“Wait, I don’t even know how he looks like!”

You watch as Jeonghan leaves, his figure growing smaller and smaller down the hallway. With a huff, you walk down the hall, stopping once you locate the correct room. One swipe of the card key and you find yourself stepping into the biggest space you’d ever seen at Starlight. The room not one of your caliber can easily enter, you find yourself frozen in place until you remember what Jeonghan had said before he left.

I need you to keep a lookout for my friend.

Shaking off your shoes, you step barefoot onto the carpet and wiggle your toes in excitement at exploring the space. Jeonghan never said you couldn’t look around while waiting for his friend.

“Whoa…” There is a whole separate hallway linking to the bathroom and bedroom, the entire suite no different than a service apartment targeted for long term stay. Obviously, luxury took precedent—even the sliding glass doors leading to the outdoor Jacuzzi are shined to perfection, the lights catching glimmers in contrast to the slowly darkening sky. Stepping back inside, you pranced around the open kitchen, where there’s a small stove for cooking next to the fridge.

“Well equipped.”

Midway into digging through the fridge for a bite to eat, you hear the door click open and startle, bumping your head atop the inner ceiling of the icebox.

“Who are you?”

Shuffling backwards, you shake your head and meet the dazed eyes of a drunken man. Tie in hand, his shirt is unbuttoned and to be honest, you weren’t expecting one of Jeonghan’s friends to look so slovenly at the first meeting.

“Hi, I’m—”

His chest heaves, and you have the shock of your life when he throws up directly onto the carpet and the conveniently placed heels you had taken off to freely explore his suite.

God dammit.

—

Seungcheol doesn’t remember a thing when he opens his eyes the next morning, yawning as he sits up in bed. There had been drinks sure, but the exact amount remains a mystery after blacking out last night. How he made it back to the hotel was also a story for another day when he sees the cheerful grin of his friend sitting directly next to.

“You were quite a mess last night,” Jeonghan snickers, handing over a glass of water. “I didn’t know you had it in you to drink so much.”

“I…” Taking the water, he drinks and a flickering memory surfaces in his mind.

“Was there someone else here?”

Jeonghan chuckles. “You really don’t remember what you did to her last night?”

“What do you mean?” Panic settles in his throat and he immediately puts down the glass, grabbing Jeonghan by the shoulders. “What… What did I do?”

“You…” Jeonghan breaks into laughter mid-explanation. “You threw up all over my friend’s shoes, that’s what.”

Oh, shit.

—

Hana hadn’t stopped laughing once she heard about your unfortunate night, irritating you to no end when she brings it up again during weekend brunch with her sister.

“So Y/N goes down to the guy’s suite,” Hana reiterates, waving her fork in the process, “Looking around, and the guy just throws up once he’s inside. All over her shoes, too!”

“I swear, I will knock your mimosa onto the floor if you bring it up again.”

Unfazed by your empty threat, she shifts her glass to the other side and mimics throwing up, an all-inclusive experience with sounds of vomiting and contortions of her face in disgust. Her sister tries to keep a straight face, but you can see the giggles already starting to break through from the tightened lips.

“Okay, laugh,” you sigh, giving in to the inevitable. “Poke fun at my misery after having to walk home in wet and smelly heels.”

Giggles echo around the table, catching the attention of the other guests at the restaurant. You pick up your cutlery knife and angrily cut apart the omelet on the plate, mutilating the yellow pillow of egg with other meats and veggies tucked inside.

“it’s just so funny,” Hana snickers, letting out the last laughs before taking a deep breath and making a zipping motion over her lips. “That’s it, I promise.”

Her sister does the same, promising to leave it at that.

“Did you manage to get his number at least?”

You shake your head. “He was out like a snuffed candle after he finished throwing up all over the floor. I had to call room service and make sure they put it on his tab before I left.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Hana exchanges a glance with her sister and her sister proceeds to take out a business card, sliding it over to you. “Which is why I had my sister get it for you!”

“Huh?”

Her sister pushes up the glasses rested on the bridge of her nose. “I asked my journalist friends and they told me it’s him.”

You pick up the business card and read the name printed in black font.

“Choi… Seungcheol?”

“He’s the CEO of the hotel chain that Starlight is under,” your friend’s sister continues, “Quite a big name, so there’s always someone keeping tabs on him.”

“You should give him a call,” Hana insists, “Get compensation for your shoes, at the very least.”

“I don’t know…” You fold up the business card and stuff it in your purse. “I’d rather not get reminded about what he did.”

“It’s only right he gives you back a new pair of shoes!”

Your phone rings before you can offer a rebuttal, it being no other than the guy who had gotten you into such a mess from the start. You accept the call and hold the phone close to your ear, not giving the sisters a chance to eavesdrop.

“Hi, Jeonghan.”

“Are you free?” his voice chirps through the speaker. “My friend said he wants to apologize for last night.”

“I…” You stand up from your seat, mouthing goodbye to your friends while walking to a quieter spot to answer his call.

“I don’t really want to see him, if I’m being honest.”

Jeonghan whines at your hesitation. “He really feels bad and wants to make it up to you, sweetheart.”

“If anything, you should be the one to make it up to me!” you snap, voice raising outside the restaurant doors. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t—”

“Fine,” he relinquishes, “It’s my fault and I’ll pay triple if you go meet with him. Do it for me, please?”

Mention of the extra pay tickles your taste buds, but you push down the thought with a huff. He takes it as agreement and blows kisses from his end, offering to send his limousine to pick you up after asking for your current whereabouts. He was always like this, agreeing to anything and everything if things went his way. You didn’t like being pulled along to his whims, but didn’t want to take advantage of his kindness to you either.

The limousine pulls up in a matter of minutes, quicker than you expected. Perhaps he had been in the area, the driver offering a quick bow once he recognizes it’s you he’s picking up.

“Young Master Jeonghan said to drop you off at Starlight, miss?”

“Wherever he said to go, that’s where I’m going,” you reply, making yourself comfortable in the back. “He didn’t tell me where.”

“Understood.” He hops back into the driver’s seat and shifts gear. “We will be at Starlight shortly.”

—

“Hey.”

It’s strange how you know which table to go to once you arrive at the Starlight bar, the lone figure before the dry martini somehow pulling at your heartstrings as you slide into the seat next to.

“Do you… remember me?”

He looks up, and you nearly have a double take. This Choi Seungcheol looked nothing like yesterday’s drunken state. Today he is soberly dressed in a dark pinstripe suit, hair slicked back. The silver ring on his pinky knocks against the counter as he taps his hand on the surface, gesturing for the bartender. He proceeds to order a shot of tequila—Jeonghan must have told him your usual go-to drink before you arrived.

“No,” he admits, “But Jeonghan said I threw up all over your shoes?”

The memory brings back unpleasant thoughts. Panic at his passed-out figure by the door after he finished vomiting, frantic calls to room service and emphasizing for them to put the service charge on his tab…

He notices the grimace on your face and apologizes again.

“I’m terribly sorry you had to clean up my mess.”

You wave it off, nodding in thanks to the bartender who brings over the shot of tequila.

“It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” he presses on, lifting the martini and consuming half the cocktail in one long sip. “I can make it up to you.”

“It’s just a pair of shoes, no big deal.

“Another shot of tequila, please.”

The bartender holds up an ‘OK’, which makes you smile and you spin to face Seungcheol.

“If you want to make it up to me, Mister Choi, can you treat me to another round of drinks?”

He does a double take at hearing his name, garnering a chuckle from your parted lips.

“It’s not hard to get information about someone as well-known as you.”

Seungcheol cracks a smile at your words. “I didn’t know I was so popular.”

The second shot of tequila makes its way before you, accompanying it a second martini for Seungcheol courtesy of the bartender.

“Cheers? You’re forgiven for throwing up on my shoes, Mister Choi Seungcheol.”

“Just call me Seungcheol,” he laughs, a hearty sound that echoes warmly across the bar when the glasses clink. “But really, this won’t do when I ruined your shoes.”

“Hmm… I can’t think of anything now, so l’ll take a rain check on your offer.”

“Then I’ll have Jeonghan give you my number. That way, you can call me once you decide how you want me to make it up to you.”

◇

You never did call Seungcheol to cash in on his offer, not one to insist on compensation for something as trivial as ruined shoes. Vomiting happened when people drank a bit too much. It wasn’t like those shoes were valuable or even held any sentimental value (they were gifted by a former colleague after she left to sign to a rival agency with better pay and benefits).

Jeonghan had pestered you for a week asking why you never contacted his friend, but you held your ground and purposely ignored his calls whenever he asked about you contacting Seungcheol, rendering you going without pay that week due to not seeing him. Curse the clause in your contract that stated you had to attend individual calls at least three times a week or else pay from group calls would be forfeited entirely to the agency.

“How much longer are you going to play hooky?”

Hana stands by the desk in your room with a bag of chips in hand, digging into the bag while waiting for your response. Crumbs trickle onto the floor and you get up from bed, shooing her out to stand by the door if she had to eat while talking.

“You’re sweeping these up yourself if you take one more step forward while eating your chips.”

She rolls her eyes and reaches for another chip. “You heard me, missy. No pay means no rent. No rent means you and I are going to have to sleep on the streets.”

“I know,” you enunciate, crossing your arms in distaste. “I’ll figure something out before the end of the month.”

“I’m holding you to it,” Hana declares, flicking a chip crumb your direction. “You said you’d figure it out.”

“Get out before I hand you the broom to sweep up my room.”

Once she leaves, you close the door and sigh. The end of the month was coming up in three days’ time. You’re sure Hana isn't the type to save either, so likely you’d have to cover her share (or part of it) as you usually do. Her big spending always end in maxed out credit cards every month, an amount not even help from her sister can cover to pay in full as you liked.

Jeonghan usually more than willing to offer financial assistance, your latest cold war with him had turned him to call for other girls to accompany him to parties or other work events. No way in hell were you going to ask him for help.

Perhaps…

—

“Welcome to Andromeda, do you have an appointment?”

You swallow nervously at seeing the crisp beige wallpaper and red sofas lined around the corners for those waiting to see the CEO to sit at. Everything screamed precision and order, two things you never had in your line of work as an escort. Even the receptionist’s white blouse and black pencil skirt were neater than the scuffed blue denim dress you picked out of your closet just an hour prior.

Talk about two different worlds.

“I… I do,” you lie, crossing your hands behind your back. “Can you tell Seung… Mister Choi he owes me a new pair of shoes?”

The receptionist looks up at you from her computer and you put on your best smile.

“Please? Your boss will understand.”

If there is the slightest sigh from her parted lips, you miss it, digging your nails into your palms as she picks up the telephone and dials into his office. To your delight, she hangs up and proceeds to gesture for you to enter. You nod in thanks and uncross your hands; the nail marks leaving indents on the skin, you quickly rub your palms to soothe your frantic nerves and push open the doors.

Seungcheol looks up from his desk and blinks twice at seeing you in person. A rare sight that has him standing up, mouth widening to a grin when he recognizes you.

“I was wondering who it was that I owed a pair of shoes.”

You smile and take a seat. “I’m glad you still remember.”

“What’s the occasion?” he asks, sitting back down and sliding his documents and files aside. “You could’ve texted me; you have my business card.”

“Can you lend me some money?”

Straight to the point, it catches him off guard and he asks you to repeat it to make sure he heard it right the first time. You reiterate the request for a loan and watch carefully as he leans back in his chair.

“What’s it for?”

“Rent,” you begin slowly, “I have three days before the end of the month when it’s due. And…”

“And?”

“I really can’t think of anyone else to help me but you, Seungcheol.”

His face is expressionless, and you continue in hopes to move him enough to lend a helping hand.

“I’m sorry if me coming here unannounced was rude. Really, I… Jeonghan’s been annoying me and I’ve been ignoring his calls because all he does is ask if I had you compensate me for ruining my shoes that night. In… In my—”

You flourish a hand around the phrase ‘line of work’. “In my line of work, there’s a clause with my agency that states escorts have to take individual calls at least three times a week or else pay is turned over entirely to the management company. I haven’t been paid in the last two weeks and you’re the only one who can help me this time.”

The silence in his office is overbearing, so thick in the air that you nearly make a notion to get up and open the windows until he breaks the silence himself.

“You’ve been ignoring Jeonghan’s calls?”

“Y-Yeah,” you mumble, taking out your phone to show him the call history. “Even have his number blocked.”

The tiniest snort breaks way into a full bout of warm laughter, the same laughter that tickled your insides from your first meeting with him at the Starlight bar. Clearly he is amused by your answer, even delighted at the fact that you’d been ignoring Jeonghan.

“No wonder he’s been sulky,” Seungcheol chuckles. “All because his favorite escort girl wasn’t answering his calls.”

Still laughing to himself, he reaches into one of the drawers and takes out a checkbook. You watch as he grabs a pen from the container on his desk and scribbles an amount onto one of the checks, tearing it out and handing it over once he signs off on it.

“I hope this is enough?”

You glance over the amount written at the top right and hold back a gasp. It was more than enough. Enough to pay for the next three months, enough to pay off Hana’s credit card bill overdue from last month, enough to even treat yourself to some new dresses to wear to work after subtracting the necessary expenses first.

“I…”

“Do you need more?”

“No,” you blurt out, reaching your hand out to take away his container of pens. “It’s… It’s too much.”

An arched eyebrow and his curious gaze pierces straight through you; you fidget a little but proceed to reaffirm your stance on his check.

“It’s too much. I only need enough to pay for this month’s rent.”

“Then consider the rest my compensation for a new pair of shoes.” He gestures to his pens and you quickly hand them back, embarrassed by your rash behavior to someone kind enough to lend money for your troubles.

Picking up the fallen check from across the desk, Seungcheol stands up, offering the much-needed money to you again.

“This check is yours. Even has your name on it and everything.”

Hesitant fingers eventually grab hold of the check and tuck the slip carefully into your cross-body bag. Taking a deep breath, you bow in thanks and he hurriedly makes his way around to hold your hands.

“No, no, don’t do that,” he blubbers, panic settling in his eyes. “I-I didn’t mean to sound mean, really—”

“You’re very kind, Seungcheol.” Rubbing at your eyes, the budding tears of gratitude are flicked away and your lips widen to a grin that uproots the tension and anxiety about making ends meet. “I’m glad I blocked Jeonghan’s number on my phone.”

He laughs at your remark. “Well, it’s not every day I see him sulk and get flustered, so it was worth every penny.

“Are you free tonight, by the way?”

The question catches you by surprise. “Tonight?”

“For dinner,” he explains, “To celebrate being able to pay rent for next month.”

“You want to treat me to dinner with more of your money?”

“Sorry,” you wince, taking a step back, “I didn’t intend to sound so… harsh.”

Seungcheol shakes his head. The hint of the smallest smile dances around the corner of his lips, one that carries a bit more than amusement and awe at your sharp words.

“It’s fine. It means you have nothing to hide from me.

“So dinner at 7pm tonight?”

You nod, tucking the memory of the smile to the back of your mind.

“I’d love to.”

—

Dinner with Seungcheol didn’t just happen that one night, but for (surprisingly) many more consecutive nights. You might have already sampled every single high-end restaurant featured in the local magazines at this rate, candlelight dinners in the presence of one of the richest men in the city with complimentary wine and dessert. Seungcheol also had a habit of greeting you with a gift each time he picked you up from work, the gesture bordering on more than mere friendliness whenever you consulted Hana about it.

“He likes you,” she had said in the simplest explanatory manner, “Maybe he even sees himself as a sugar daddy of some sort to you.”

The term eliciting a nose scrunch and firm shake of your head, you firmly tell yourself that cannot be. Surely it’s anything but that when you technically still owed him money. Why would he want to spend time (and more money) on someone indebted to him?

—

“Bestie, your boo’s calling.”

You look up from the dresser, lipstick in hand. “Who?”

“The one and only Yoon Jeonghan, that’s who.”

Capping the lipstick, you get up and head out to the living room. Hana gestures to the phone still ringing on the coffee table, two pieces of chips in between her manicured fingers. Scooting past her, you scan the screen and a pang of disappointment tickles your bones when you see it really is Jeonghan calling and not someone else.

“Hello?”

“Finally remembered to unblock my number?”

His crisp tone does little to faze you.

“Should I re-enter it to my block list?”

“Well, no.” There’s sniffling on his end, and you overhear a distant sneeze. “I was just checking to see if you really unblocked me like Cheol said you did.”

Tingles tickle your stomach at hearing Seungcheol’s name, but you push it down with a huff.

“You know I’m a woman of my word, Jeonghan.”

“I do. Which is why I’d like you to go out to buy some soup for me right now.”

“What?” You check the time on your phone and it’s already 7:15pm. “I can’t get soup for you. Me and Hana are having a girls’ night out today.”

“Please. You’re the only one who can do this for me.”

“Jeonghan, can’t you just—”

His voice is muffled, and you catch the tail ends of a cough when he resumes speaking into the phone.

“I would stay here to take care of him, but there is a dinner I absolutely cannot miss out on, sweetheart.” Desperation laced in his pleas, Jeonghan’s voice is muffled again and you stand stumped at the cutoffs in the conversation. The phone call then ends altogether, leaving you even more confused when the entire thing sounded like an emergency.

“What the fuck?”

Your phone then pings with an incoming text, complete with pictures of a bedridden Seungcheol next to a mountain of used tissues and the address to deliver the soup to once you bought it.

“Hana,” you begin once you tuck your phone into the back pocket of your jeans. “I can’t go with you tonight. One of my friends is sick.”

◇

You will never forget the look of relief on Jeonghan’s face when he opens the door to Seungcheol’s VIP Suite at Hotel Celestia, a Choi establishment on the other side of the city.

“Thank god you’re here,” he sighs, rummaging into his wallet and taking out two of his credit cards. “Use these if you need anything else.”

Gone before you can even say goodbye, you hold up a hand and wave anyway, closing the door. The lights are on the dimmest setting once you step in, the choice to keep your shoes on a firm one after the fiasco from your first meeting. This time, the suite didn’t hold the luxurious feel it should’ve had for a hotel suite, but rather an emptiness at the lack of another presence besides the coughing heard from around the corner.

“Seungcheol?”

Around the corner, you spot the mountain of used tissues on the floor and see him bundled up in bed. Picking your way through, you set down the container of soup on whatever space is left on the nightstand and slowly place a hand on his forehead.

“You’re burning up.”

Somehow you take on the role of a nurse for the remainder of the evening, shuffling from the kitchen to heat up the soup to the bathroom and back after cleaning up the tissue mountain and messy bedroom. Washing your hands diligently after touching all the germs, you pull up a chair and take off the towel on his forehead, feeling his temperature again.

“Not as hot as before.”

As quietly as possible, you lean forward and tap him on the shoulder. Seungcheol stirs, eyes barely open when he feels your touch.

“Jeonghan called me over,” you explain, “I brought some soup, you should—”

He mumbles something you fail to catch, and when he repeats it you realize he’s not calling for you in his feverish state.

Who is he asking for?

Seungcheol blinks, and he quickly shakes his head when he notices you sitting before him.

“H-Hi.”

You offer a wave and gesture at the now-cold soup.

“For you. Courtesy of Jeonghan.”

He nods and you hand over the container of soup, which he drinks straight out of in large gulps.

“T…Thanks.”

Taking the empty container, you nod and set it down before speaking.

“You still have a bit of a temperature, but it’s a lot better than before.”

His eyes more energetic than earlier, Seungcheol shakes his head and looks at you with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry you had to… see me like this.”

You cross your legs and fiddle with your fingers, the unknown name bugging your mind. To ask or not to ask, especially when he is unwell.

“Did… Did you eat?”

“Sorry,” you blurt out, standing up from the chair. “I… I have to go.”

“So soon?”

“Yeah, I…” Without looking at him, you grab your purse and hurriedly wave, not catching the last bit as you take your leave.

—

“Rent’s due again, bestie.”

You gesture at the envelope sitting on your desk. “Give that to the landlord when you see him later.”

Hana skips towards your desk and picks up the envelope. A low whistle twinkles through the room at the stack of bills nestled inside.

“You got this from Seungcheol?”

“Jeonghan,” you correct her, “I asked him for a favor and that’s what he gave me.”

“I thought Seungcheol was your new sugar daddy now.”

Picking up a pillow from your spot on the bed, you throw it at her and she quickly dodges.

“What did I say wrong now??”

“He’s just a friend,” you mutter, digging deeper into the covers. “Nothing more.”

“Girl, he was taking you out to dinner every night and getting you all those exquisite gifts. I don’t think that’s something a regular friend would do.”

Poking your head out, you let out a guttural scream and she leaves, closing the door behind her while taking the envelope. No longer in the mood to sleep, you kick the blankets off and sit up. Ever since his sick day, you’d been avoiding Seungcheol like the plague—ignoring his texts, purposely not picking up his calls, using Jeonghan as an excuse whenever he tried to ask you out on the off chance he crossed paths during your other calls. If Jeonghan had noticed you were playing the ghost card he didn’t show it, not one to pry when he was back on your good graces.

A vibration buzzes from your nightstand and you reach over a hand; panic lights up in your eyes when you see the caller id. The phone rings for two more times, then buzzes again, this time from your roommate.

“What is it, Hana?”

“Can you come out here? There’s someone here to see you.”

“Wait, who in the—” You hurriedly get out of bed and change to a set of more presentable clothes. Fixing your hair, you brush out any knots and rush out.

“Is the landlord here early, I saw you take the money…”

Your words fade when you see who is standing next to Hana in the living room.

“I’m sorry,” she mouths, holding up two envelopes (the second one equally as thick as the one she took for rent). “He said I can have another envelope of the same amount if I can get you out of your room.”

She scurries away before you can scold her for taking bribes and you sigh, a deep breath echoing across the four walls.

“Why are you here?”

Seungcheol adjusts the collar of his white silk shirt. “You wouldn’t take my calls.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Busy enough to ghost me but free to spend time with Jeonghan?”

The barb in his words is prickly, and you take a step back when he moves forward.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you murmur, unable to look him in the eye. “I mean, technically no.”

The gentlest of touches rests on your face and you muster the courage to look at him. Concern pools in his eyes as he studies your silence, lips contorted to a frown.

“You can tell me,” he reassures you. “You know I’ve never said no to you.”

The kindness unusually sharp, it digs into your heart and you wince at hearing his words.

“You need to leave.” Pushing him aside, you walk to open the front door and look away. “I can’t do this today, Seungcheol.”

“Wait, but—”

“Please.” You stand your ground. “You need to leave.”

He gives in, head low as he takes his exit. Once he fully passes through the threshold between your apartment and the hall, you slam the door shut and slump to the ground. You didn’t know why you were so frustrated at him over a name. This angry curiosity you’ve been carrying around since that day…

Not jealousy, no. But it festers like an untended wound, threatening to consume your insides the longer you leave it unchecked.

“God, this fucking sucks.”

◇

“Cheol brought these for you.”

You gloss over the Celine handbags, trying hard to not stare at the vintage pink one that had been out-of-stock for weeks. You mentioned it to Seungcheol once as an off-handed comment when he took you to the store to get you a gift, wistfully staring at the empty rack when the saleslady regretfully informed him they were out of that color for the bag. He promised to keep an eye out for it and apparently had taken it to heart, finally managing to get the pink one you wanted so long ago.

“The smaller leather ones are very you,” Jeonghan muses, holding up each one in curiosity. “He knows your taste.”

“I don’t like this brand anymore,” you lie, shaking your head when he offers them your way. “Give them to your other girlfriends.”

He waves his hand, and one of his household staff comes forward to take away all the handbags.

“You know I’ll only keep them here until you’re in the mood to take them home.”

Glaring at his cheekiness, you scowl and he slings an arm over your shoulders.

“What did Cheol do this time to mess up your pretty smile?”

“He… You remember the day he got sick?”

“Yeah.”

“He… He was calling for someone else. It was a girl’s name, but I didn’t recognize it.”

“…Then he still hasn’t forgotten about her.”

Jeonghan notices your tense posture and sighs.

“It’s not my story to tell.”

“But,” you begin, unable to hide the tremor in your voice. “But… Don’t you know a little… a little bit? Can’t you tell me a little bit?”

“I can’t.” Jeonghan releases his hold on you and stands up. “It’s really not my story to tell.”

Not even the puppy-dog eyes that usually worked wonders proves effective in prying open Jeonghan’s mouth, rendering you hopeless while pouting on the couch. He notices and takes your hand, pulling you up from your seat and squeezing your fingers for reassurance.

“Come on, I’ll treat you to dessert instead.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Not even matcha crepe cake? It’s the newest flavor at the dessert place you like so much.”

Unable to resist, you accept his hand and follow him out.

“Fine, but you’re paying.”

—

Maybe deep down you’d already known a man like Seungcheol would have a story to tell. A story he kept hidden from his closest friends, one he keeps close to his heart with vulnerabilities he has only shared with one other person.

You knew you weren’t that person, yet you couldn’t help but want to be the more you ruminated over the mysterious name. The her he clearly still wanted to see again despite their extremely publicized breakup. She, who moved on and was now married to the heir of one of the richest real estate firms in the country. The paparazzi periodically did feature spreads on whatever snippets they managed to snap of the couple’s private life: brunches, cocktail parties, pool fun, outings with their two children, etc. They looked happy, smiles all around.

He had been happy for her. When you first brought up the magazine to him after doing your own research on the matter, you hadn’t caught the look of wistfulness in his eyes then, but now…

Now it made sense. The silence, diverted glances, abrupt changes in topic, it all now made sense.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

Startled, you turn your head and find yourself not at home, but in a private room at the Starlight bar. Just short of knocking the cocktail glass off your neighbor’s hand, apologies trickle from your parted lips and he chuckles.

“Jeonghan, you didn’t tell me she’s the airhead type.”

“She’s usually not,” Jeonghan muses, waving a hand in front of your face. “What are you thinking about?”

Ignoring his prying, you turn to his friend and offer another wave of apologies, raising your own glass of water.

“Buy her a drink, Joshua,” Jeonghan nags, “It’s the least you can do for taking my favorite girl away from me.”

“No, it’s okay,” you blurt out, not in the mood to drink tonight. “I’m not—”

“She doesn’t want a drink,” Joshua retorts, swinging an arm around your shoulder. “I’ll keep her company while—”

The door to the private room squeaks open, interrupting Joshua mid-sentence. You look up and freeze, not expecting to see Seungcheol of all people standing by the entryway. Jeonghan notices the growing tension and stands—ushering Seungcheol to sit—but Joshua is oblivious, grandiosely introducing you to his friend (whom he didn’t know you were already on very familiar terms with).

“She’s with me tonight,” Joshua smiles, closing the gap between you and him. “But she doesn’t seem to be warming up to me.”

Seungcheol turns to you with his eyebrows raised.

“Are you and Joshua together now?”

It rubs you the wrong way, the way he asks the question. Why was he so quick to assume you already had somewhat of an intimate relationship with Joshua when you just met the guy today?

Jeonghan spots the fire in your gaze and extinguishes the flame with an interjected “No”, slapping Joshua’s arm off your shoulder and squeezing himself in the middle. One hand rests on your thigh, a comforting touch that helps in stilling the building anger and snappiness crawling up your throat to be spat out.

“Sorry, she’s with me actually,” Jeonghan smiles, “I’ve been booking her consistently since—you know—since you stopped asking for her.”

“Wait, she’s not—”

Joshua holds his tongue after seeing the sharp glance from Jeonghan, promising to call you again as he excuses himself to leave the tense atmosphere in the room. The trio of you, Seungcheol, and Jeonghan now alone, Jeonghan is the first to break the silence.

“I’m going to let you and Cheol have some time to sort out your problems,” he says to you, standing up and shaking his head when you tug at his sleeve for him to stay. “Call me when you’re done.”

You throw a glare at him, one that Seungcheol overlooks as he bids goodbye to Jeonghan.

Not liking the situation one bit, you reach for Joshua’s glass and down the margarita in one go, the burn in your throat akin to liquid courage for the upcoming confrontation.

“You scared off both my clients,” you begin with a huff. “Just because you’re also rich like them doesn’t mean—”

“Then I’ll pay triple for tonight,” The words slide off Seungcheol’s mouth smooth as honey. “You won’t be missing out on the two of them when I can pay for their share as well as mine.”

He scoots closer while you instinctively slide to the left. The gesture brings a scowl to his face and your hands curl into fists.

“I do not appreciate being bought out like that, Mister Choi.”

“I didn’t…” He licks his lips. “You were the one who kept avoiding me!”

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” you lie, angling your body away. “My schedule has been fully booked each time you reached out.”

A heavy sigh leaves his mouth. Clearly he picked up on the fact that you weren’t going to make this easy for him.

“Can you at least tell me when you’ll have more free time to meet with me?”

“I don’t know what I am to you, Seungcheol.”

He pauses, clasping his hands together and resting them on his knees.

“Care to explain why you think that way?”

You bite your lips, glancing back at him. He is as patient as ever while waiting for you to answer, and that is when you knew you had to come clean for your own sake if not his own.

“I… Who was it you were calling for that night you were sick?”

It’s funny how you can practically see the gears turning his brain, Seungcheol practically an open book to everyone around him. Never one to keep secrets (or someone able to keep a secret), but clearly even those who are usually open books have their own share of hidden chapters within the pages.

“I didn’t know,” he begins carefully, eyes downcast. “I didn’t know Jeonghan had called you to stop by.”

“Are you still thinking of her?”

“…No. She is happily married now.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything the first time?”

He tears his gaze away from the floor, fingers digging into his knuckles as tears pool in his eyes.

“Because I’m scared you won’t believe me when I say I feel nothing for her anymore. I’m scared of how much I don’t want to lose you when I realized I was starting to fall in love again.”

—

Much to Jeonghan’s disappointment, you had gone home with Seungcheol that night, his hand ever so tightly grasping yours while leaving Starlight. Making sure to let your roommate/best friend know of your whereabouts, you send her a quick text that you’d be staying at Seungcheol’s place and she all but replies back with a “:P”. No doubt her dirty mind expected more than just a good night’s sleep.

Nothing happened that was out of your expectations: an offer for a fresh change of clothes, shower, a late midnight snack (he had virtually nothing in his fridge but you weren’t hungry anyway), and sleeping in his bed while he set up camp in his study. You sense he wanted to elaborate on where things had ended in the bar, from the constant side glances and hesitation at even touching your hand when he brings over a clean shirt and pair of gray sweatpants in exchange for the pink pleated mini dress you chose to meet Jeonghan and Joshua in. It’s one thing to hear him out, but another to recharge and clear your mind after such an eventful night with some space and well-needed sleep.

Sleep was minimal, perhaps the enormous size of his bed daunting and keeping you awake with the thought of him tucked away in his study. He looked no better (dark eye bags and large yawns) alongside the messy bedhead and nearly bumps into the bathroom door if you didn’t alert him after freshening up.

“Did you have a good sleep?”

You turn around from your seat by the open kitchen, mug of instant coffee in hand.

“I slept…okay.”

Yawning, he nods at hearing your answer and shuffles towards the fridge. His hair still sticking up on all ends, you have half a notion to get up and run your fingers through his dark locks to smooth it out when hearty chuckles echo across the kitchen area.

“Something wrong?” you ask, getting up and placing down your mug of coffee by the sink.

“I…” Seungcheol turns to face you with a sheepish smile. “I have absolutely nothing in my fridge for you to eat.”

“That’s fine. Jeonghan actually bought me dinner before we went for drinks at Starlight.” You grab the mug and take another large sip. “Plus, I usually skip breakfast on weekends anyway. Coffee is enough.”

The refrigerator closes softly and Seungcheol holds up his hands in defeat.

“Guess I’ll wait until later to eat too, then.”

“What, no, that’s—” You usher him out of the kitchen and towards his room. “Go change.”

“Change?”

“Get changed,” you clarify, “I’ll treat you to breakfast.”

—

You knew fast food was the last thing on his mind when you pull Seungcheol into the McDonald’s at the corner of the street.

“What is this place?”

Your mouth drops. “Choi Seungcheol, are you telling me you have never been to a McDonald’s before in your entire life?”

He returns an awkward grin, interest reclaimed by the large screen for self-ordering.

“You just tap here and then click pay?”

The disbelief is thick in your voice as you mutter away while ordering two Big Macs and French fries, ignoring his murmurs of awe at all the choices available on the menu.

“What’s this one?”

You follow his finger at the Happy Meal. Of course, he would ask about that one.

“That one comes with a toy.”

His eyes light up at the mention of a toy, and you aren’t surprised when he taps to include one Happy Meal into the order. Refusing to let him pay, you beat him to it once the order is confirmed, delegating him the responsibility of finding a vacant table while you wait to pick up the food from the front. The wait is thankfully not too long, and you spot him sitting at one of the tables by the window while looking extremely out of place in his purple dress shirt and black slacks.

“Do you always dress so formally?” you speak up the moment you place down the tray of food. “Even for something as simple as eating fast food?”

“I didn’t know you’d be bringing me here,” he replies, tunnel vision for the red box containing the Happy Meal. “This is the one with the toy, right?”

You nod, hiding a scoff as you watch him tear into the box. His eyes shine at the sight of the blue toy car and its driver, excitement prickling in the surrounding air.

“Wow,” you marvel at the large shell and ferocious jaws of Bowser, the character Seungcheol received in his Happy Meal. “Of all the ones to get from the Mario franchise, you get the one that’s the evilest.”

The shock on his face catches you by surprise, and you can’t find it in you to tease him anymore when he looks devastated at the idea.

“I’m just playing, Bowser’s cool in his own way.”

“He’s going in my office,” Seungcheol murmurs, tucking the toy away into the front pocket of his slacks. “Keep me company during the day.”

“Suit yourself.”

He reaches hesitantly for one of the burgers and unwraps it. You watch his reaction and snort at the look of awe on his face as he takes one, two, three more subsequent bites. It was the first time you had seen anyone so excited over fast food—let alone something as trivial as McDonald’s.

“May I?”

He hovers a hand over the French fries and you hand him the entire container.

“Eat your heart away.”

He must not eat fast food often, judging from the glow in his eyes. The Big Mac demolished in seconds, now it is the French fries that are tossed into the cave that is his stomach. You can feel the curious gazes of those around your table and continue to pick at your own burger, small bites all throughout.

“That was delicious,” Seungcheol hums, leaving no crumb of potato behind. “I can’t believe I’ve never had this before.”

“Fast food is common for people like me,” you laugh, crumpling the wrapper once you’ve finished eating. “It’s not as exciting as you’re making it out to be.”

He follows you like a puppy when you get up and clear the table, tossing the trash and putting the tray away before opening the door for him. The passerby all stare at Seungcheol like he’s an alien, the formality in his outfit sticking out like a sore thumb especially from the entrance to a McDonald’s. You try to walk fast to not catch attention, but the sudden grip on your forearm catches you off guard and you pause.

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re still here.”

“People are staring,” you sigh, easing his hand off you and interlacing your fingers to his. “Let’s go before they start asking questions about what someone like you is doing near a McDonald’s.”

The walk somehow turns into a window shopping adventure, Seungcheol stopping every few feet to stare at stores that catch his eye. He pulls you in after him despite your protests, making a lap around but not buying anything like he usually does. Clothing, makeup, even the local coffee shop catches his attention like Christmas had come early this year. Each time you humor him by letting him pull you in, no different from the role of a parent monitoring an excited child.

It stings your heart when you realize he was having fun because he probably never had the opportunity for such simple pleasures in life. Eating fast food or window shopping were things of minimal priority to his daily schedule, not like meeting with important clients or managing an entire social hierarchy of employees and upper management as CEO to one of the largest hotel chains in the city. People always say the sky’s the limit, but right now it feels as though there is an astronomical distance between his world and your very own.

So how is it possible for the silver spoon that is Choi Seungcheol to fall in love with you, the dullest utensil in the tray?

—

It would be unfair to assume he wasn’t interested in you.

Nearly everyone said the same: he liked you, he loved you, he clearly saw you as more than a friend or even one of the girls he chose to spend money on. He didn’t act like a mere sugar daddy who dropped thousands on you without breaking a sweat. Seungcheol had pretty much confessed the night he caught you at Starlight, no Jeonghan for you to use a shield to deflect to.

“So do you like him or not?”

You roll your eyes at your roommate, unamused at her habit of barging in without knocking.

“Hana, do you want to take him off my hands instead?”

She wiggles her eyebrows. “I’m not against the idea, but ask anybody and they can see he only has eyes for you.”

Scoffing, you turn your attention back to the open closet and settle on a black mini dress with a contrasting white collar. The bow tie and sleeves adding just the right amount of elegance, you pick it up and show it to Hana, who wrinkles her nose at seeing your choice.

“It’s cute and all, but sleeves?”

“What would you pick?”

She eases herself into the array and sifts through. Fingers expertly parting each hanger, she snaps her fingers once she finds what she deems worthy to wear for the night: an off-shoulder red satin dress with a high slit.

“No,” you refuse, ignoring her objections. “It’s just a cocktail party.”

“Then you gotta look the part! Who goes to a cocktail party wearing something an office secretary would wear?”

Against your protests, your roommate insists on her dress of choice, even to the point of placing herself directly in front of your closet door so you had to physically push her aside if you wanted to switch dresses. Knowing how stubborn she can be…

“Okay, I’ll stick with this one,” you sigh, holding up the red dress. “Black heels good?”

She nods in confirmation, giddiness taking over when she spots your makeup bag on the dresser.

“Can I do your makeup? You’ll catch everyone’s attention for sure once I’m done with you!”

“…Just don’t go too crazy.”

—

Sometimes you wish you weren’t so kind.

There was clearly a reason why your instinctively felt the urge to follow a monochromatic color scheme. The sea of black suits and white gowns said it all, yet here you are in a shade of red that stuck out like bloodstains on a clean towel.

Did she know ahead of time? Impossible when she hadn’t even been invited.

Was the universe out to get you? Most definitely.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

Looking up from your glass of champagne, you take the offered hand and squeeze. Jeonghan’s eyes widen, surprised at your iron grip.

“Hey, I’m not the one who didn’t follow the dress code.”

“I was coerced into wearing this,” you groan, throwing up your hands in defeat. “It wasn’t my idea.”

“Well, you look beautiful.”

“Thanks.”

Snorting at your half-hearted thank-you, Jeonghan offers a hand and you take it, comforted by his presence as he introduces you to the other guests. Not one to socialize much at these types of meet-and-greets between the elites, you plaster on the politest smile you can muster and let Jeonghan do all the talking. Occasionally you hear your name mentioned and chime in a word or two, but anyone can see your mind wandering if they look closely, costing you your first mistake of the night when your fingers lose their grip on the half-empty champagne glass. The spilled liquid leaves a stain on your shoes, déjà vu eliciting a thin smile at the memory of walking home barefoot while holding a pair of smelly, vomit-clad heels.

“You okay?”

“Sorry, I…” You smile apologetically. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Go that way and then take another left at the corner.”

Apologizing again, you pick up your dress and quickly walk towards the left. Curiosity drips from the onlookers of the red dress flapping about, but luckily no one stops you on your way to the bathroom.

No one except…

“You’re here.”

Your brain comes up empty while trying to think of an excuse to get away from Seungcheol, and he offers an enthusiastic grin at seeing you at the party.

“Did you arrive with Jeonghan?”

“He sent his driver,” you answer, shuffling your feet anxiously. The sign to the ladies’ room is practically two leaps away. “Saw him just a few minutes ago actually.”

“I see.”

Before he can continue, you rush past him and nearly collapse onto the tiled floor once you enter the bathroom—sinks empty and stall doors open. Slamming your hands on one of the sink counters, you take a deep breath and catch sight of your winded reflection in the overhead mirror.

“I look like shit.”

Checking to confirm the stalls are void of others, you give yourself a quick pep talk and take more deep breaths, steadily calming down before fixing your makeup. Another glance at the mirror, and you’re surprised to find Seungcheol still standing where you had left him once you leave the bathroom.

“You’re still here.”

He looks up from his phone, shoulders relaxing before tucking away the device.

“Wanted to see if you were okay when you practically sprinted in there.”

“I’m okay,” you hum, brushing off imaginary dust from your arms. “Just needed some air.”

Nodding, Seungcheol then extends an arm for you to hold.

“May I have this dance?”

You pause. Instinct tells you to pull back, but the earnest look in his eyes is too strong to resist. Slowly, you take his arm and the smile on his face practically lights up the entire room despite the dimmed glow of the ballroom fixtures. Dimmed lights, slowed music for a waltz, the ambiance almost rivals Cinderella’s first dance at the prince’s ball.

But you aren’t Cinderella, and you break away before the magic can end at midnight.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, shaking your head. “I—”

“Is it because of my ex?” Reaching into his back pocket, Seungcheol takes out his phone and taps on the screen, pulling up a text thread for you to see.

“I was just telling her I finally found someone I want to be with,” he continues, “She wished me good luck right before I asked you to dance.”

“Why me?” you sniffle, holding back the brimming tears in your eyes. “I’m… I’m just another escort.”

“You’ve always been honest with me. That’s more than what all the other girls could ever offer when I’m just another bank for them to extract money from.

“And you even showed me McDonald’s,” he adds with a hearty chuckle, “It was the first time someone has ever treated me to such a delicious meal.”

“Seungcheol, that’s—”

“I love you,” His voice drops to a whisper. “I love you for just being you.”

—

The heart knows what it wants. People can get muddled by what they see and what they hear, but the heart ultimately knows what it wants. And in trying to convince yourself otherwise, you had somehow gotten hold of Seungcheol’s heart before you knew you even wanted it.

“Can you please go see him?”

“I can’t.” You bury your face in your hands. “I don’t want to know how he thinks of me after I walked out on him like that.”

Hana rolls her eyes, not understanding your self-induced predicament. “The guy literally told you he loves you.”

“So? He’s someone who can have whatever he wants with a snap of his fingers when I’m just a—”

“Don’t you start calling yourself a nobody when you’re not.”

The remainder of your sentence falls short. Just like her to know exactly what you wanted to say.

“Enough about him, then,” she sighs, taking your hands and swinging them ever so slightly. “Are you certain you want to terminate your contract with the agency?”

“I really can’t do this anymore.” The risk of running into Seungcheol when you were contractually bound to serve others like him is too much for your mental health to withstand. Even though he was totally the type to fill your schedule exclusively for his company so others couldn’t book you, your conscience couldn’t live with the notion of him throwing even more money your way when you technically left him hanging after he confessed his love for you. “I’ll figure something out if things don’t go through, but I really need you to start budgeting and saving for the end of the month to pay for rent.”

“Okay, Mom, I won’t buy new clothes or bags when you have extras in your closet for me to borrow.”

Rolling your eyes, you shake out of her hold and take the lead in heading inside the building that housed your escort agency. To your surprise, the usually empty lobby is filled with boxes and lines of people filing in and out.

“What’s going on?” comes the curious question from behind you. “Looks like a shitstorm in here.”

“I don’t know,” you whisper, not knowing where to look at the elevator doors that continue to open and close with movers coming down with furniture and other fixtures to move out. “It seems like the entire place is shutting down.”

“Does that mean the agency is also…”

The two of you exchange a glance and make way towards the elevators, squeezing through the movers to find an elevator heading up rather than down. Once the doors open at the fifth floor, you follow her out and don't know what to make of the now vacant space that used to be the escort agency.

“What on Earth…”

Stripped bare of furniture and other knickknacks such as the familiar plants and backboard listing each escort’s daily scheduled “meetings”, the place reminds you of a freshly renovated office space ready to be leased out for a new term.

“Are we jobless?”

You don’t know how to answer the question, still processing the sight of the vacant agency when low murmuring catches your attention. From down the hallway, you spot none other than Jeonghan and the conniving witch who had conned you into signing the escort contract in the first place walking your direction. Hana puts up her middle finger on sight, but lowers her hand when you usher for her to step out before things get ugly.

“Aren’t you meeting with that one guy today? What’s his name, again, Jun?”

“I can just cancel. He’s kind of too quiet for my taste.”

“It’s not right to bail when he already paid upfront,” you convince her, “I’ll ask Jeonghan what’s going on and update you in the evening.”

“But—”

“I know you’ve been eyeing one of my Celine bags; have this Jun take you on a shopping spree to get you one.”

Already knowing she’s sold on the idea of using her date as today’s ATM machine, you shoo her away and watch from behind a corner once Jeonghan and your “former boss” stop by the front entrance. Picking up hints of an alleged “takeover” and “waste of money”, you hold your tongue until Jeonghan is alone, debating whether to reveal yourself from your hiding place when he places a hand over his mouth and coughs knowingly.

“I saw you from a mile away, sweetheart.”

You stand from your crouched position, wincing at the slight numbness in your legs.

“What’s going on? It’s completely empty here.”

He smiles, tilting his head back at the sight of the empty space.

“I bought the place!”

“You what?”

“Technically, my name was used to buy out the agency,” Jeonghan clarifies, chuckling at the absurdity of cleaning out an entire establishment with his money. “It was a completely one-sided proposal but I can’t believe it still went through.”

“Who asked you to buy out this place?” You try your best to not cry but the water in your eyes is already pooling along the corners. “I… We… How am I supposed to pay for my living expenses if I’m suddenly out of a job?”

“Sweetheart, it’s not a bad thing—”

“What would you know?” you yell, fed up with the whims of the wealthy. “You don’t know what it’s like to live paycheck by paycheck! You and your friends are silver spoons from the very moment you were born! I am sick and tired of being toyed with like—”

Jeonghan reaches a hand into his blazer and thrusts a business card in front of your face, successfully shutting you up when it drops onto your outstretched hands.

“Here’s the contact for the new owner of the building. Go talk to him if you need someone to yell at because that person is not going to be me.”

—

“Please wait here. Mister Choi will meet with you shortly.”

You nod awkwardly, thanking the receptionist after she sets down the requested cup of coffee. Leaving the coffee untouched, you close your eyes, praying your guess on the identity of this Mister Choi will be proven false when you hear the approaching footsteps. Not daring to look up, you open your eyes and grab the coffee mug, nearly staining your white dress with splashes of mocha from the quick swipe of your arm.

“I can have someone bring in a new dress if you need it.”

“Why did you do that?”

A scraping sound against the tiled floor, and you manage to lift your head up at the figure that takes the empty seat before you.

“Do what?” Seungcheol asks innocently.

It’s irritating, the subtle smirk on his face. The corners of your mouth twitch and he notices, leaning forward with his hands clasped together.

“You know what you did,” you grumble, refusing to entertain his antics. “Mister ‘I just bought out your agency because I have the money to’.”

“For starters,” he begins, knocking a hand on the table. The silver ring sitting on his pinky catches a glimmer from the faint sunlight, eliciting the memories of drinking tequila with him at the bar. “I didn’t buy out the building entirely for you. It was a business decision agreed by my board of directors to expand the hotel chain.

“Secondly, the proposed amount for this building and clearing out its tenants has no relation to you when Jeonghan was willing to pay half as a personal favor.

“And most importantly,” Seungcheol murmurs, voice dropping to almost a whisper. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you seeing other men just to make ends meet, so I did what I had to.”

You sit speechless, not knowing what to say as he gets up, eyes downcast.

“Even if you don’t choose me, I still want you to be happy. Of course, after I calculate the exact amount of compen—”

His eyes widen at the sudden tug on his sleeve, and you get up from your seat, snaking your arms around him before he can slip away.

“Why do you do the things that you do for me?”

He chuckles, turning around with a gaze full of love and adoration. Paired with the hints of the dimples in his grin, you finally realize he’d given his heart to you long before he even knew he had already done so.

“Because I love you and want you to be able to do the things you want to do. You mentioned you initially wanted to be a model, so I’m planning on turning this building into a modeling agency for you to pursue that dream.”

“Choi Seungcheol, you—”

He shakes his head, pleased that you hadn’t reprimanded him. “My board approved the acquisition, but ultimately I make the final call on how to repurpose the building.”

“I hate this,” you mutter, “I hate you for doing all this for someone like me.”

“You hate me?” he echoes. “Should I make a call to resell the building, then?”

Unsure if he’s joking or serious, you hit him lightly and he takes it with a warm laugh, a sound that tugs fondly at your heartstrings.

“I love you.”

—

“So when’s the wedding?”

You nearly choke on your drink and your best friend/roommate snorts, not understanding your reaction to her question.

“You and Choi Seungcheol have been dating for almost a whole year now. Men like him are bound to have butterflies fluttering around trying to get some of that good stuff.”

So much has happened since the events prior, from the initial meeting over a soiled pair of heels to avoiding him like the plague when you found out he loved you and even bought out your contract from the escort agency for you to be free from their shackles. Not one to take anything for granted, you made it clear to him from the beginning that it was never about the money, but he liked to think of it as an additional way for him to show how much he loved and wanted to take care of you in the blossoming relationship.

“You really should put a ring on it so people know he’s yours.”

“Hana, don’t you think it should be the other way around?” you refute, scowling at her assumption at marriage being a surefire happening. “I mean, Jeonghan still claims I have every right to choose someone else until I’m officially not single anymore.”

“Please, your Seungcheol will be out for blood if Jeonghan tries anything funny.”

You snuff out the cough growing in your throat, fully aware of Seungcheol’s slight possessive streak.

“Yeah, I suppose.”

The gloating look on her face says it all, but you take a pause on forming a rebuttal when you feel the vibration of your phone against the nightstand. Sensing you wanted privacy, she closes the bedroom door behind her when she exits and you pick up to a breathless sounding Seungcheol on the other line.

“Are you running?”

“C-Can you meet me now?” he pants, sharp intakes of breath in between each word. “I… I got something… something important to give you.”

“Where?”

“I’m actually—”

The line cuts off before he finishes his sentence.

“Seungcheol?”

No response, and you rush out of your apartment, frantically pushing the button on the elevator that eventually takes you all the way down to the main lobby. He never broke off midway through a phone call, what if—

“Hey.”

You bite back a retort, balling your hands into fists and run at full speed, punching Seungcheol square on his chest when you spot him standing by the bus stop at the corner of the block from your apartment building.

“You idiot! I thought something happened to you over the phone!”

He frowns, not understanding your panic until he offers the cracked phone in his hand towards you.

“I dropped my phone mid-conversation on the ground and the screen cracked. Is this what you’re referring to?”

“Unbelievable.” You pull away, but he grabs your hand just as you fall out of reach.

“Cute,” he smiles, his other hand taking out a small box from the pocket of his white jacket. “Here’s a gift for being so worried about me.”

“You called me out just to give me a gift?”

The raised eyebrow does little to erase the growing pout on his face, and you roll your eyes before taking his gift, revealing a stunning flower-shaped diamond ring sitting within the cushioned jewelry box.

“W-What is this?”

“I’m sorry for not being more formal,” he apologizes, “I had my driver bring me directly to the jeweler when they called and said the ring I wanted was ready for pickup.” Gesturing to his casual white zip-up jacket, blue tee, and matching white pants that completed his rushed morning look, Seungcheol smiles awkwardly and gets down on one knee, catching you completely by surprise.

“I don’t look like a man about to propose, but I really hope you’ll say yes?”

“Choi Seungcheol, this is the most comfortable outfit I’ve seen you in since we started dating,” you laugh, easing the ring out of its box and placing it onto your finger. “I’m not going to say no when you came to me dressed down like this.”

The beaming grin on his face says it all, and you give him a peck on the cheek once he stands up.

“I’ll need to check with my assistant, but if it works for you, we can hold the wedding sometime in… September? Of course, feel free to tell me what ideas you have and I can make it happen. We can book an entire—”

You put a finger over his mouth to stop him from rambling, excitement practically dancing from every inch of his being at the thought of planning the perfect wedding.

“I’m perfectly happy with a simple vacation wedding plus honeymoon.”

“That’s it?” The disappointment in his voice couldn’t be more clear. “Just a vacation?”

“Mhm. Just a simple around-the-world trip will do.

“In fact, why don’t we go right now?”

“Now?” he echoes, “I still haven’t found contractors to revamp the building I bought for you.”

“That can wait,” you groan, checking the sign by the bus stop that announced three minutes before the next bus arrives. “I’m not in a rush to start work when I get to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts!” The bus rolls closer and closer until it is only one red light away. “You can make your calls to arrange for passports and everything else on the way to the airport, but let’s go before we miss this bus!”

Waving down the bus driver with a furious wave, you take note of the secure fingers wrapped around your right hand. A comforting yet trusting touch, you know Seungcheol is equally on board with the idea despite the initial hesitation at the abrupt proposition to leave everything behind in his hectic corporate world. Rash and borderline irresponsible when he oversees so much in his business on the daily and has an entire pyramid of people dependent on him to make executive decisions, there’s little to change his mind when he’s finally able to go along with what he would like to do for once in his life.

“You know I’ll go wherever you go.”

#seventeen scenarios #seungcheol scenarios #svt #scoups #svt scenarios #seventeen fanfic #scoups fanfic #i have forgotten how to tag this shall suffice for now

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