Title: Tipping the Scale
Author: JayPendragon
Rating: Explicit
Length: >100k words
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Summary: Peter has a rhythm. A system. All runs like a well-oiled machine, engineering pun intended. He trades sleep for caffeine probably more often than is strictly healthy but he's doing well enough at Columbia to keep his scholarship, which is what counts. Come summer, Peter can take on more shifts at the restaurant and do some additional private events for Rumlow for extra cash. May and Ben think it's all from tips, which is exactly what Peter needs them to believe. Every wheel of his life is churning perfectly.
He doesn’t expect Tony Stark of all people to throw a wrench in it.
Midnight’s Prince put on his dress shirt and threw on a nice black blazer over it that was as crisp and sharp as his jawline. His stage name was V, but he had brought the most customers in the shortest amount of time. So everyone just called him a prince because of his looks. This was his fifth year working at the Midnight Club.
It was an upscale place that didn’t have any toleration for bad customers, no matter how rich and influential they were. The employees also had more control over who they did and did not want to see or handle.
V’s client tonight was the daughter of a famous movie maker. She had her hair in a high bun, and he was to escort her to a premier party after the viewing. Her blue dress was 1920s flapper inspired with accents creating beautiful shapes along her body.
They walked arm and arm on the red carpet where she didn’t answer any questions, just stood and looked pretty. She didn’t want any funny business during the movie. At the party afterwards, everyone mingled and talked about the film, congratulating both (Y/N) and her dad. When people asked what V did or his actual name, she would give them a smile.
“He’s an escort. We’ve known each other for about two months.”
“And I don’t feel like giving out my name would be right since I’m working right now.”
She was known as a straightforward woman, rebellious. Still, no one would have expected her to bring an actual escort to one of her father’s premiers. And to be so open about it too. It made the other fancy dressed people rather uncomfortable and they would either change the subject or simply leave the conversation completely.
About an hour and a half into the party, she whispered into his ear that she was ready to go home. By that, she meant she was getting into the mood and wanted to do something about it. So she went to go to tell her father she was leaving, and Taehyung went to go get the car. An older woman shyly stopped him.
“I know this may seem improper to ask, but what club do you work for? If they have more men like you, I may have to stop by.”
V put on a charming closed mouth smile and got a card out of his inside jacket pocket, “I work for the Midnight Club, miss...”
“Ahn. Ahn Shinhye.”
He nodded and handed her a card, “I’ll make sure to let them know you’ll be coming and I promise you’ll get the best treatment.”
The color in her cheeks was no longer from the ridiculous amount of makeup she had on, “W-why thank you, V.”
They bowed and went their separate ways. She came back and the two were driven home by her personal driver. They went into her large house and he kissed her lips tenderly after they took off their shoes, and he said the words he usually did.
“I’m going to get a drink from the fridge. Be ready by the time--”
“Not tonight.” She placed a finger on his lips.
He tilted his head, “What do you mean?”
She answered, “Tonight I want you to show me something personal. Well, maybe not too personal. What’s one of your hobbies?”
So she wants a casual date night, Taehyung thought. The two went into the living room as he spoke.
“Well, I have an interest in art. I draw sometimes.”
“Oh, what do you like to draw?” She sounded genuinely curious.
He was getting excited, and he wasn’t supposed to be. Clients often asked about his hobbies as intimate foreplay of sorts. She was probably no different. Just pretending to actually care what he did outside of getting paid to care about them for a night.
“Mostly faces. People. I find them to be interesting subjects. I’m not that good yet, but I practice when I can.”
“Do you have a notebook or something that you use? I used to draw a lot when I was a kid, and I’ve been meaning to get back into it. Can I see?”
Taehyung chuckled, “You really want to see them?”
She nodded, “Yeah. Of course.”
He took out his phone and showed them to her. She smiled and complimented them. Tae felt really good showing her what he had created and loved when she was able to name the characters he had doodled here and there. Was he getting too carried away?
“Taehyung? Um, I wanted to tell you that I really like you. I picked you the first day because of your looks and popularity, but being with you I realized that you’re a really good man. If you’d give me the chance, I’d like to make this an actual relationship.”
Taehyung wiped at his eyes, “You’re only saying that because I’m beautiful.”
“I’m not. I really do care for you. I have treated you differently from all my past toys. The reason you’ve stayed so long is because...” She took a deep breath. “Because I love you.”
He couldn’t deny that her affections had changed for him over the short time they had gotten to know each other. She called him out when she was feeling lonely and would sometimes pay hundreds of dollars just for him to cuddle her until she fell asleep. She was the first person to actually care about his pictures instead of changing the subject to kissing and then screwing.
“I love you, Taehyung. I really do and I don’t care if you still want to be an escort if you do accept my feelings. Even if you don’t, I’ll still want you to be around me because that’s how love works, right?” She was starting to get choked up.
He grabbed her hand and kissed it, “I think it’s best for us to part for the night. I’ll have to think over your proposal.”
The man then went to the door and put his shoes and blazer back on. He left her in the living room as he was trying to think about what to do. Things like this had to be reported to the boss. If the client had feelings for the escort or vise versa, then they were both put on the watch list. It was a safety thing since people sometimes had the tendency to project their feelings on someone they are regularly in contact with.
Taehyung knew for a fact that this wasn’t the case with her even as he left, but this was all so new to him. This was a job that he loved. Could he leave it all for her? Even if she said she’d be ok with it. Taehyung felt like he’d be unloyal to her. He left.
A few seconds later, there was a knock on her door. She answered it, pocket knife in her hand since it was late at night. She looked through the peep hole and saw it was Taehyung. The knife went into the drawer.
“I’ve made up my mind.” He grabbed her face and kissed it.
She cared and Taehyung wasn’t about to lose her to fear.
Do you know any jikook fics where Jimin is a prostitute? Thanks!
Hey! No problem, here you go!Title: 落花有意，流水无情；(I Wait.)Author: jeonifyRating: MatureLength: 10–15k wordsGenre: Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Angst, DramaSummary: “the falling blossoms yearn for love, but the heartless brook ruthlessly flows on.” (a warlord should never have fallen for a kisaeng.)Warning: Dub-conTitle: House of CardsAuthor: sugaminsRating: ExplicitLength: >100k wordsGenre: Drama, Angst, SmutSummary: Jungkok is the heir to a mob empire, the most notorious in the whole of Seoul. Taehyung is a rookie sent in to infiltrate by his select team and bring the empire crumbling down. “You knew the game and played it, it kills to know that you have been defeated.”Note: ThreesomeTitle: It’s a Bad Idea to Love YouAuthor: darkparadisesRating: ExplicitLength: 5–10k wordsGenre: Smut, AngstSummary: jimin, an omega, works at a brothel: his sole purpose is to please alphas. jimin doesn’t mean to, but he ends up falling for one of his clients, a young alpha named jungkook.Title: ProtégéAuthor: linzeighRating: MatureLength: 50–100k wordsGenre: DramaSummary: Jeon Jungkook, 20. Fresh-faced and eager Muscle. Strengths: ambition, determination, intellect, physical strength. Weaknesses: temper, temper. Kim Namjoon, 25. Organized crime boss, club owner, and all-around good guy. Strengths: logic, compassion, business savvy, loyalty. Weaknesses: depressive with a bleeding heart. Park Jimin, 23. Dancer, prostitute, right-hand man. Strengths: cunning, intuition, fearlessness, confidence. Weaknesses: Kim Namjoon, Jeon Jungkook.Note: ThreesomeTitle: The Waiting GameAuthor: bonniaRating: ExplicitLength: 5–10k wordsGenre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, SmutSummary: It’s a waiting game. Jimin knows that Jungkook doesn’t have to come back, but with every little touch, every time Jungkook does, and every time Jungkook lies down right next to him, pressed up close, torturously warm and smelling like cigarette smoke and cologne, Jimin can’t help but feel like he could — would — wait years just for Jungkook to come back to him again. (Or: In which Jimin is a prostitute and Jungkook is his favourite customer.)Title: The You Only I KnowAuthor: aborescentRating: TeenLength: 1–5k wordsGenre: Hurt/ComfortSummary: Jungkook meets Jimin at a sleazy bar in Busan at about half past four in the morning.
Hoseok had lived on his own for quite a while now. He made ends meet by dancing on the street and teaching dance classes sometimes. He was good enough that he would win competitions on a regular basis, but the money would go to bills and groceries and be gone before he even knew it. There weren’t a lot in the winter, though. Which was now.
This meant he had to go do his second job that was always busy, and even more so during the holidays. Christmas was right around the corner, so Hoseok had at least five customers a day. That might not seem a lot for a regular job, but the dancer spent a lot of time with each. He was a prostitute. A sex worker. People always say “sex sells” but they had no idea.
He was lonely inside. Hated his job, but there was nothing else he could do since Hoseok had no other marketable skills. He wasn’t great at math and hated staying still, so office jobs would never work.
“J-Ho, your regular is back!” A man with long light brown hair said while traipsing around in a sheer robe with only a frilly thong underneath even in the freezing weather.
He remembered the days before he had regulars and had to give his regular intro. Everyone here had one. Something for a customer to remember them by and make them wanna come back. Usually it was something with their name in it.
For Hoseok, it was, “I’m your ho. You’re my ho. I’m J-Ho” and his clients would usually just call him J. Now he had 4 people who only wanted to fuck or be fucked by him.
Hoseok was on the back balcony taking in some fresh air, “Which one is it, V?”
Valenfuck replied, “(Y/N). They’re waiting in the Heart Room as usual.”
J-Ho nodded and made a sound in reply. He stood up straight and stretched, “How long did they order?”
He replied, “Until you get tired.”
“Alright then. I’m on my way there.”
J-Ho went to the closet and changed into black pants and a dress shirt where he unbuttoned the top few buttons and loosened a red tie around his neck. They always wanted it to be red or blue. If they ever arrived Christmas Day, it would be green. Hobi had been doing this job for two years, so he knew the routine by now.
He entered the Heart Room which was the room specially made for “lover’s play” and this client liked to play as rich lovers. Sometimes it was cheating on their partner while other times it was having just returned from a grand ball or something. They’d set the scene once J-Ho was in the room, and he’d play along like he got paid to do.
The client sat on the bed in the red room. The bed was shaped like a heart and they were sat on the point of it. They smiled when they saw him. Hobi loved that smile and gave a gentle one in return.
“Give me your hand, darling?”
It was said as a question, but there weren’t many true questions in such a line of work. Only subtle commands and asking of limits.
Hoseok gave the client his hand and they kissed it. Based on this interaction, J-Ho believed that they wanted to play as a pre-established relationship founded on love and mutual interest.
“How have you been?” They asked.
“I’ve been well, my love.” Not like he was fending for his life or anything because the previous client got too carried away with choking and had to be taken out by security or anything. “And you?”
They grinned, “All my worries have gone away now that I lay my eyes on your face.”
J-Ho couldn’t help but give a larger smile in return, “So, what is your interest this time, dearest?”
“Sit next to me, please?”
He did and the client grabbed both of his hands, “Run away with me, Hoseok.”
He blinked at the sound of his real name. Right. This was the only one that knew it because Hobi trusted them. They were always so kind and patient. Thoughtful and tried to do cleanup when J-Ho was tired after a session. Sometimes they literally paid for a visit where the two just talked. The last time they saw each other was last winter.
It was Hobi’s last day of the season since there were a lot of competitions in the spring. This client, this friend of sorts had confessed their love for Hoseok and made the same proposition. It threw him so off guard that he refused right away and kicked them out.
“Why do you keep asking me this, (Y/N)?” J-Ho stood up and backed away. “I work here because it’s easy. All I have to do is fuck and be fucked. This is how I survive since I have no other skills other than moving my hips in a way that people like.”
“Because I love you! Do I need another reason?” Their eyes looked up at him. “Why won’t you accept that? I hardly even pay for sex anymore. I don’t ask for anyone else. I come here for you, Hoseok!”
“Why would you want me? My body is a toy that others pay to use on a regular basis! I don’t try to do anything else! I’m just a human blow up doll!”
They replied with passion, “Not to me. You’re a human with feelings who put themselves in a bad position every winter. You’re a dancer. You’re Hoseok, and I love you.”
He scoffed and folded his arms, “You’d be ashamed of me.”
“I wouldn’t. Even if you wanted to keep this job, I wouldn’t be ashamed of you or what you’ve done.” They moved towards him and wiped his tears.
He hadn’t even realized he was crying, “You’re serious? You promise?”
“I promise, Hoseok. I promise my heart, and I really want for you to promise the same.”
Hoseok ended up ditching the name J-Ho and continued to become known on the street dance circuit. (Y/N) wasn’t ridiculously rich, but they were able to help support Hobi until he got recruited to a crew. He finally felt like he’d be ok and that he wasn’t alone in this life of his.
Title: 落花有意，流水无情；(I Wait.)
Author: jeonify
Rating: Mature
Length: 10–15k words
Genre: Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Angst, Drama
Summary: “the falling blossoms yearn for love, but the heartless brook ruthlessly flows on.” (a warlord should never have fallen for a kisaeng.)
Warning: Dub-con
Title: The You Only I Know
Author: aborescent
Rating: Teen
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Summary: Jungkook meets Jimin at a sleazy bar in Busan at about half past four in the morning.
Sex workers! I honestly couldn't care which one is the sex worker or if they both are. Stripper, prostitute.... Just sex worker AU!!
409.
It was snowing harder than ever, the warm orange of the streetlights creating a surreal kinda dissonance of light and white and shadow that was putting Clint on edge, every sense yanked all out of order. He flinched at a shadow and felt his boot skid on a treacherous patch of ice, flinging out an arm in a desperate bid for balance.
If Clint’s life was the romantic kind of a comedy, warm strong fingers’d wrap around his wrist, or a solid arm around his waist; he’d catch his balance only to be swept off his feet. Instead he got caught by the scruff of his neck, jacket yanked up painfully under his armpits as his feet flailed like Bambi.
“I meant to do that,” he said, finally getting his feet under him, shrugging the guy off and taking a couple of almost entirely steady steps away. His boots were old enough that the treads had practically worn away; he had to catch his balance on a dumpster. It felt like kind of an apt metaphor.
“Sure you did.”
Clint scowled at the man - he had no business judging, not when he’d barely scraped the surface of the tragedy that was Clint. It wasn’t like he looked particularly together himself.
He was wearing a heavy army coat that’d seen better days, ripped jeans, battered boots that were worn through over the steel toes. The baseball cap on his head had some logo that Clint didn’t recognize, and dark hair spilled out from underneath it, strands caught on the stubble that was a week old at least. He looked like the wreck of something beautiful, and the dark shine in his eyes looked miserable and desperate and just exactly like Clint’s target demographic.
Clint shrugged his jacket back in place - thin material that did next to nothing except cling lovingly to the muscles of his arms - and adjusted his lean to emphasize everything he had to offer, for a price.
The man looked back towards the street, uncertainty thinning out his lips and shadows carving his face in sharp relief. The uneven twist of his body looked odd, and it took Clint a second to see that one of the jacket’s sleeves was tucked into a pocket and had nothing inside of it.
“Hey,” Clint said, and he offered up a smile, something he never really did to clients, ‘cos his smile made him look like an endearing goofball - not his words - and that mostly wasn’t what he was going for. The little quirk upward at the edge of the guy’s mouth, though, that was all kinds of lovely.
“Hey,” he repeated, “you’d be doing me a favor,” ‘cos he had never seen protective instinct written so deep into the lines of a person, and Clint’s stock in trade was being just exactly what someone needed, even if it was only for one night.
