The request is for jamie campbell bower character john in emmanuelle movie
Title: Liaison. Prologue.
ᯓ★ . Sir John is your boss... How will that go?
Pairing: Sir John x f!Reader || Emanuelle Warning: none, just flirty 'Sir John'.
˚₊⊹ masterlist: Prologue. ✧ Tumblr ˚ ₊⊹
word count: 4.3k
"What else can you tell us about..."
The interviewer shoved a microphone into 'Sir John's face, and he, as you already got used to, saw his brow furrow, then arch in a smirk. Sure, perhaps 'Sir John' wasn't the best way to call him, but it was a game he enjoyed playing and one you had gotten used to leaning into. What his name was mattered little, for what was important was his peculiar demeanour. He stole a glance at you, knowing, the corner of his mouth arching ever so slightly before he stopped himself and turned his attention to the man before him.
"Sorry, can you repeat that? The acoustics here are tremendous; I didn't catch a word..."
Maybe he would've, had he not spent those few seconds admiring your ecstatic look as you attended this first proper press conference. It was a first, and he loved firsts in anything. There was a subtle chew as his teeth pressed into the inside of his cheek, a heavy sigh leaving his chest as he continued to pass you unapologetic looks and, when you caught them, you smirked back. How could you not smirk? He delivered what he promised. He was a man of his word, and now you got to experience the fruits of your labour and his promise.
With that last glance, he turned to the interview. A question... right. He hadn't heard it again, and asking the man to repeat it would've been less than polite. Lucky for him, as he leaned down to speak, a voice called for the attendees to join the conference. Leaving the press hanging.
"Sorry, love. I have to go; catch me up when it's done, and I'll answer."
Then, without a moment of respite, he turned to you. His hand migrated confidently to your lower back, head lowered to your ear.
"Close call, I need to be careful taking you with me; you distract me, gorgeous." He whispered, without a single change of his demeanour, playing off his neediness with confidence. Nothing betrayed his words, for the curious eyes would've assumed he told you nothing but that it was time to go to the main room.
You didn't react much yourself.
You knew that would've been awful when so many eyes were on you. So all you could do was swallow the lump in your throat, stealing a glance at him as you began walking alongside him to the meeting room.
"Smart choice, darling. Don't let them suspect a thing..." He smiled, leaning in closer, to the point his lips were grazing your earlobe. "I'm impressed, actually... either you're very good at hiding it, or I'm not as interesting to you as I used to be. I want to hope it's the first, hm?"
"We can talk about this later." You said, attempting to keep the same unbothered expression on your face, despite his game.
"I see... So it's the first. Don't worry, I won't make your life even harder than I already did."
With his hand plastered over your lower back, 'Sir John' guided you inside the main room, placing the sneakiest kiss on the back of your shoulder as you both walked in.
But how did you become tangled with an eccentric figure such as 'Sir John'?
You took the gig.
It looked like a great opportunity at first, the best chance at getting yourself noticed by a great advertising company. Or if not... At least you could add it to your resume. Being a volunteer at an event of this magnitude should surely do wonders. It would help you get a chance to be hired in the future.
After applying, you got your friends to apply too. Luckily, you wouldn't be alone at the venue. Well, not alone but surrounded by strangers and eccentric rich people.
Two of your friends got in too, so that was lovely. You three arrived early. You picked up your badges and helped until the main guests reached the event. Plenty of time.
The first half of the day had been rather uneventful, and soon enough the guests and volunteers had a whole hour break to spend as they pleased. The guests had mostly chosen to go outside, while the volunteers had lunch, smoked and whatnot. You lounged with your two friends instead, against a couch in the venue, escaping work for a bit and gossiping about the guests.
"Did you see him? Oh, he's a narcissistic asshole, I bet!" One friend started.
"I don't think so," your other friend replied, clearly not enjoying the mean gossip.
"Please, nobody orders people around like that unless they think themselves above them. Which is clearly his case!"
"You're too hard on him!"
You chuckled, letting your friends talk while your eyes lingered on the various faces around. Not as many as in the main lobby, but definitely not empty either. In search of a quiet spot, some of the guests found respite in the same areas you did, making phone calls or just enjoying a cigarette. It was funny really; smoking wasn't allowed as far as you could remember, but rules were made to be broken when it came to prestigious visitors.
"What do you think, Y/N?"
One of the friends called, causing your brow to furrow as your head turned to them, rubbing the side of your neck with a soft grunt, trying to remember what the conversation was about. "I think you're both right."
"You're always going to choose the middle ground, aren't you?"
"There's no way to tell. Besides, none of us can diagnose narcissism, can we?"
Your friend rolled her eyes and dropped back against the couch with a loud thud, head resting back against it. She was impatient, perhaps to get back to work, or to go home? It was hard to tell the cause, but the result was clear. She was squirming about, whilst the other was now texting on her phone. With the group quiet, you turned your attention back to the few wandering guests. One or two new faces, two or three familiar faces gone.
Your smiled.
This felt intrusive in a strange way, scouting out people and mentally trying to associate a skill to their face. Quite narcissistic, no? You chuckled at the thought, and your friend turned to you.
"What's up?"
"I don't know…" Your chuckle was turning into a laugh, a tired, almost confused one. "I think I shouldn't have skipped that morning coffee."
"No, definitely not." She scoffed, pushing herself up. "If I don't smoke, I'll end up telling these people to their faces that they are all snobs."
The other friend rolled her eyes, but said nothing. Only waited until she was gone before sliding her phone into her pocket with a sigh of annoyance.
"I don't know what's gotten into her today." She said, mostly to herself, before locking eyes with you. "Mind if I leave you alone for a bit? I really need to use the restroom, and I was worried she'll fry your brain if I leave you alone with her."
"Oh please, go ahead, I'll be fine."
With a nod, she left too.
You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Maybe telling them about this opportunity hadn't been the smartest idea; dealing with the attitude was arguably tougher than the job itself. Alas, that was a pretty rude thought, so you let it slip out of your mind. You pushed yourself up. A coffee, that's what you needed and soon, which wasn't a problem since these events always had plenty lying about for the guests. But you couldn't leave just yet, not without telling the other two and checking the time; you saw there was about another quarter of an hour left until the break was over.
Might as well keep looking around.
But this time, nobody new had come or left. There were the same few familiar faces from last time you checked. About four or five people, smoking or checking their phones.
All but one.
When your eyes wandered to this last guest, he wasn't smoking or barking orders over a phone. Rather, he was leaning with his shoulder against the wall, right by one of the windows. His arms were crossed, and he was staring right back at you. Not in your direction, which had happened before, as some of the guests would look your way but somehow through you, lost in their own minds.
This man wasn't like that.
His eyes were on you, shamelessly so and as soon as he saw your slight jolt at the realisation, the corner of his mouth arched in a confident smirk. The man was caught staring, but that didn't make him stop doing it. You expected him to glance away or pretend he had something better to do, but instead he kept his gaze locked on yours, with that same irritating smirk.
Why was it irritating?
You felt odd. You felt seen, in an unpleasant way. If anything, the way he looked at you felt like that corny expression, 'undressing you with his eyes', but even more so, it felt as if he was intrigued by you. Although you could hardly remember seeing him before. You drew your attention away from him to think why this man allowed himself such familiarity; he pushed himself away from the wall and approached you.
He wasn't subtle about it. If anything, you could swear he enjoyed seeing that confused look on your face.
When he was close enough to your couch, he pressed his palm against the armrest and sat down by you. He didn't ask for permission, not that you imagined he would considering the bold look he had been giving you.
"Hm?"
You were confused, expecting him to say something rather than hear that 'hm' that did nothing but further the strangeness of this interaction.
"No, you're right. I should apologise, shouldn't I? You've been taking my side just now, and I came here without any manners." The man laughed. You couldn't tell if this was a joke you weren't in on, or if he was confusing you for someone else. "Oh, sorry… sorry. I know eavesdropping is a pretty shit thing to do, but I happen to have really good hearing, and some things just come to me, you know."
"Excuse me?"
"Oh no, you're not the one who needs excusing. I think that would be your friend, no? Quite bold of her to call all of us narcissistic. A stretch. Some are, no doubt about that; you need a drop of it in this field, but that makes most faces here vain. I'd rather call myself hedonistic; the self is very important indeed, but… you know, with some minor differences." The man continued, his tone friendly and relaxed, as if he had known you since before this day. When in fact, this was the first time you spoke.
His attitude caught you off guard, so as he spoke, your mind was less focused on what he was saying. But rather adjusting to this strange head-on conversation. He had probably noticed, and to some extent expected it, because he made no attempt to rush you when your answer took a few seconds longer. He waited, with his eyes on you, curious eyes that scanned far more than your face. You caught his pupils wandering dangerously. Upon being caught, he laughed as if it was no big deal.
"Oh, she's… yes. My friend. She's quite snarky today. I promise she's not like this usually. Not sure what's gotten into her, actually."
"She left?"
"Went outside to smoke." You confirmed, "Maybe that's why. Must piss her off that you can smoke inside but she'd get scolded if she did it here."
The man laughed, his arm draping over the back of the couch, head cocked slightly so his full attention was on you. "I suppose that might be a reason." He replied, but his tone didn't seem to align with his words. He didn't believe smoking was the actual cause. "I had a different reason in mind but…" His eyes lingered, in a way that could only be described as suggestive. "I suppose yours makes more sense. You know her better than I do."
You felt the meaning behind that, and you rolled your eyes, shifting with a slight uncomfortable edge to your behaviour. The man caught on to it quickly, and let his arm drop from the back of the couch, taking his hands to his lap.
"Don't worry, you're not the first to think I come off strong. Once you get to know me, you'll know it's a facade we carry in this industry."
"Still, I would appreciate it if you were less…"
"Flirtatious? Oh, don't worry about that. I am way less of a threat than most men here, although my desires are quite similar."
You rolled your eyes, "Could've guessed when you called yourself hedonistic."
"Smart girl. Anything else you'd like to guess about me? So far you've got it right, unlike your buddy."
"I'd rather not say what I think about you." You scoffed, "I wouldn't want to hurt your feelings."
"Oh dear, I am sure I'd be in shambles."
His tone, ironic but still maintaining that soft flirtatious undertone, was worming its way into your chest. He was still a strange guy, but you didn't feel he was malicious. If anything, his strangeness was appealing, mysteriously. It made you feel guarded but intrigued.
"You would."
"Maybe I am into that…"
"Wouldn't surprise me if you were, Mr Hedonistic guy."
"If we play around with names, might as well call me Sir John."
The 'sir' made you laugh, and he watched you, a victorious glint in his eyes. Making a girl laugh was always a guaranteed way to earn her affections. So this was his first little win.
"Sir? Oh, Sir. That's not your real name, is it?"
"Of course not." He clicked his tongue. "It's more entertaining this way. Keeps the mystery."
"I can find your real name easily."
He pushed himself up from your couch, his eyes briefly going to his wristwatch. "Where's the fun in that, darling? And speaking of no fun, someone's nicotine break's over." He winked and turned to leave.
You called out for him, dazed by the rapidity with which this unfolded. "Wait, I didn't tell you my name." If he was a guest here, it meant he was one of the important people in advertising. That also meant he could be a great person to be networking with. He could be your chance, and you didn't want to miss it.
He kept walking, not turning to you.
"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll catch that one soon enough."
"Who was that snob?"
Right on time then.
'Sir John' had been painfully accurate, and now at a little distance, back by the window. With his back to you but clearly listening. You tried to bite down a smile.
"I told you they were all insufferable. Did he try to sell you something? I wouldn't be surprised if he did… And where's-"
"Bathroom break."
"Didn't answer the first part. Don't think I'll let you off the hook."
"He asked about the venue… If smoking was allowed indoors." You struggled to keep that smile down, and 'Sir John', equally amused, had to lower his head slightly to mask the grin. Luckily, the friend wasn't too keen on observing such details.
"Right, I told you he's insufferable. There's no smoking signs right around the corner."
"Maybe he came from the other end of the hallway."
"You're finding excuses for rich pricks. Uh, this is stressing me out."
"You could always go home if you don't like it here; we can cover for you. There's plenty of us anyway; they won't notice if a volunteer went home." You suggested calmly.
Your other friend came out of the restroom area, saw the other and rushed over.
"This is so stressful, fuck, I need another cigarette. Or to go home, yeah."
"I'm telling you, there's no harm in it. They didn't even make us sign the list when we came; I doubt they'll make us do it when we leave." Your words were directed to your friend, but your attention remained on the strange man who was still there.
Still eavesdropping, clearly.
As soon as your friend returned, she managed to convince her to head home. Without being too obvious, because that would've led to excessive drama that you didn't want to be part of…
That was done.
Now you could finally have some peace of mind. The stranger was gone, and the break was over. You regretted not telling him your name, yet something about the way he assured you this wouldn't be the last time you met made you feel as if he had another meeting in mind.
The rest of the day went smoothly, with only you and one friend left alongside the other volunteers. One by one, most of them left, and by late evening only a handful remained. There was a bar event for the guests, and the volunteers could choose to leave or stay, yet since the drinks weren't free, most volunteers went home instead. You stayed, not quite sure why. Perhaps because deep down you still hoped to get a chance to network. This had been the reason for this hassle anyway.
The earlier event was almost gone from your mind. The man didn't show himself again, and during the day it seemed as if he had disappeared and as the saying goes, 'out of sight, out of mind', so Sir John was no longer occupying your memory.
The bar area was not the usual bar you'd expect. There were drinks, and a few groups of rich-looking people discussing with the background noise of some popular music. Not the most lively scenery, yet it harboured a strange tension which you couldn't quite name. There was something about it, something odd and almost enticing; it felt like a trap to be there.
You walked over to get a drink yourself, mindlessly asking for your usual when you felt a hand on your shoulder. It wasn't your friend, because she had also left. Nor was there anyone else at this event that you knew and permitted such gestures of proximity. With a shudder, you jerked away from the touch, turning to the source of it only to see a man, laughing. In the poorly lit room, you couldn't really make out his face. It was a man, a rich prick if you had to quote your friend from earlier.
"Get that hand off me."
The bartender glanced over, but made no move, turning back to making your drink.
"Do you also need a nicotine break now?"
"What?"
"And here I hoped I made a more lasting impression."
The man sat at the bar, on the stool next to yours, arm on the counter, head resting on his hand as his head finally showed itself in the light. Now you could see him clearly, and your memory jumped.
'Sir John' laughed, waving the bartender over, "Whatever she got, double it and put it on my tab. Thanks." Then turned to you, "Don't worry, darling. I won't take it too heart; I know the lighting here is terrible. Had I not been staring at your back all day, I wouldn't have found you either."
The familiarity was striking. You were still in shock and flustered for the most part because you had just been rude to the only man you could have hoped to get some advantages from. Seemingly aware of your worries, he leaned in and whispered in your ear.
"Loosen up, darling. I am enjoying this way more than I let on."
You swallowed the knot in your throat. Anxiously, you tried to muster a reply but stopped yourself as the drink came. You tried to reach for it, an excuse not to speak, but he pulled it away from you with a smirk.
"You get this back after you tell me what's on your mind."
"You can't do that!" you argued, the flush on your cheeks worsening.
Luckily, the awful lighting was to your advantage.
'Sir John' held the glass away from you, grinning. "It's on my tab, so it's my drink until you pay me back with a little answer." He paused, twirling your drink lazily. "Where's the harm in that?"
You scoffed and looked away, but he didn't give in. 'Sir John' waited patiently until at last, you gave in.
"I am ruined, okay? You were my only chance to do some actually meaningful networking in here and get a job in the industry, and I was rude to you, and now that chance's gone."
The man raised a brow, biting down the smirk for now. "Maybe, maybe not. What makes you think so?"
"Well, I have to be nice to get you to like me enough, don't I?"
"Kissing my ass won't do, darling. Told you I'm not a narcissist."
'Sir John' eyed you, pushing your drink forward with a light press of his finger. "I prefer this. I think kissing people's asses is a part of this industry, but not a part of my modus operandi. I select my people in a far different way."
There was something about his tone and demeanour, about the constant flirty undertone and the movements he made. You began to suspect his modus operandi. It wasn't at all uncommon, in fact. Most men in a position of power, once they gained a liking to someone, would give them a job in exchange for 'hedonistic' activities. Sex, to be more exact. Sleep with the guy, and you're set for a while. And you sensed there was something of this in 'Sir John'. The whole thing with the mysterious name, the overly touchy gestures, there was something sketchy about him. Not lewd in the appalling sense, but rather intriguingly seductive.
Even so, you weren't the kind of person.
You wouldn't sleep with him for the job.
"Listen, I'm not born yesterday; I know what you're hinting at, and the answer is no."
Almost surprised, the man raised a brow, sipping his own drink. "I made no offer, and you already refuse?"
"Because I know what you're about to offer."
"Do you?"
'Sir John' knew what you thought about.
The thing was, he was the opposite of most men in that industry. Most of them wanted girls to drop to their knees for them, but he? He found no thrill in having anyone he wanted kissing the ground he stepped on. Far from it. His thrill derived from what you were giving him as you spoke. That lack of interest, the distance, that was all he sought. He wanted the challenge that you represented. You didn't want him; you didn't bend the knee to him.
"Oh, I do. I won't sleep with you."
"And people say I'm bold." 'Sir John' laughed. "There's no need for that, darling."
"So then what, you're offering me a job just because?"
"Are you not thrilled at the thought?"
You sipped your drink, non-alcoholic, since you weren't planning on having your judgment impaired in such a place. "So you're not asking for sex."
"I'm not." The grin formed at the corner of his mouth as he brought his own drink to his lips. "But something tells me you will. Oh, don't give me that look. It's not mandatory, it's just something I anticipate."
"You anticipate wrong then. It won't happen."
"That's fine by me, darling." He held his hand out to her. "A bit impromptu, but do we have a deal?"
"You're hiring me now?" You asked, staring down at his hand. "Is that possible? I don't know your real name, or where you work other than most likely an advertising company and-"
"Details. I will give you an email to contact, and you don't have to worry about it. Feel free to address 'Sir John' in the email too."
"And the company?"
"Don't spoil the surprise… You'll find out soon. All you have to do is say yes…"
You squinted, the lighting starting to give you a headache. "So we strike the deal here?"
He cocked his head. 'Sir John' put the drink down to free both his hands now. One still waiting for the handshake, the other going to his lap. "The real one, yeah. Then there's going to be some formalities. The following days, you send me a resume. I'll pretend to look over it. You know how it goes. But if you shake my hand, you can consider yourself hired."
Your gaze lingered on his hand.
Something about this felt too good to be true, a trap and accompanied by the whole strange feeling of the bar, everything felt like a setup. And yet, this was your best bet in the kind of world you wanted to be part of. And you knew this kind of world wouldn't be a polite, respectful one. It would be a world like this bar area, shady and eerie, making you feel always on the edge, a mix of lies and false praise, and most important, eroticism sown in the fibre of all there was to be seen.
Your hand reached out for his, and after only a second of hesitation, you grabbed it and shook it with confidence.
The man grinned, lightly tightening the grip and leaning in, until only you could clearly hear him.
"What a smart decision, Y/N."
You leaned back slightly. You were certain you hadn't mentioned your name before. "I haven't told you…"
"I did say I'd catch it later, sweetheart. I didn't specify you'd have to be the one to disclose it to me."
"Then who did?" That worried you a little.
"All in due time, darling. If there's one thing you must know about me, it's that I don't like to rush things."
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