Million Dollar Man
Sehun X Reader
Inspiration: SoMo and Drabble prompt #8: “I’m not joking.”
Word Count: 3010
A/N: When it mentions the song, play it (if you’d like). I’d like to make it known that this is NOT a bash at sex workers in any way, I am a massive advocate for sex workers and their rights and for stopping people from being complete douchebags to people just because of the job they have to support their lifestyle and families.
You followed behind him quietly, tucking the wad of hundreds he’d handed you back in the club you’d met up in into the purse you’d bought with some of your extra earnings from the last week. There was no shame in your game; the stacks of hundreds in your safe back home attested to that, and you appreciated the benefits of your job. Your work was lucrative, and you’d excelled in the practice. Half the time you didn’t even half to work, your regular clients usually paid in one night what used to equal a month’s pay when you first started out.
Your current client, Oh Sehun, had become quite the regular these past few months. Half a year ago you’d met him for the first time and the meet-ups had become progressively more and more common as time wore on. When you told him you already had a client planned for the day, or the week, or more, he’d sent you a check with twice whatever they were paying almost immediately. He never offered an explanation and you never asked for one, until today.
He’d called to ask about seeing you Friday of the next week, and you’d sympathetically told him that you were already booked. Without a word he’d hung up, and your agent had called you less than five minutes later saying that you’d been booked for every available day that month, and the extra money that came along with it payed for every day off of work you had. And then some. He’d paid triple what every other man had paid, which meant that for the entire month, you were his.
You followed him into the elevator without a word, black dress fluttering around your thighs with every long stride you took. You both relaxed against the wall as the door closed with a ding, exhaling as the elevator hummed with its ascent. Without looking at you, his hand found yours, lacing your fingers together tightly. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let out a soft breath, leaning against his body. He didn’t think twice, nuzzling his nose into your hair where he kissed you softly.
Sehun was almost always like this with you. Sometimes you thought he wanted company more than he wanted sex. You’d come over and all he’d do is strip you down and pull you tightly against his body where you’d lay for hours on end. He’d talk to you about your favorite things, your dreams, how you’d gotten here. At first you were angry, he should have known not to intrude upon your personal life, that this wasn’t how the kind of relationship you had was supposed to go, but you quickly got over that. You felt the most comfortable with him, he never pushed you. His hand never snuck down your pants without permission, he never put you in situations he knew you’d be unhappy in. At the same time, he pushed your boundaries without you even knowing. One second you’d be fucking against the headboard, the next you’d be completely restrained, growling at him to let you go.
The lift shuttered to a halt, opening to the floor of his penthouse. He started walking, tugging your hand as his long legs left yours in the dust. The door swung open silently, the blonde haired man shrugging his jacket off and hanging it up before reaching for yours. You obliged, sliding off the overcoat before handing it to him gently, fingers sliding across his.
You smiled up at him, immediately heading towards your favorite part of his home with a euphoric expression on your face. You reached out, hands flattening against the cold glass as you pressed against the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the glowing lights of Seoul, alive beneath your fingertips. He walked to you silently, stopping centimeters away from your body, close enough to feel his warmth but not close enough to be intrusive. He was used to this ritual.
When you finished drinking in the beautiful world around you -though you doubted you’d truly ever be sated- you turned towards him. He was watching you, observing you as you observed others. He could honestly say he loved the way your mind worked. You were more than just a body to him, more than a sex object he could purchase whenever he felt the urge. He bought you because that was the only way you could be near him, and he despised every dollar that left his account because of it. He didn’t hate it because he didn’t want to spend money; you were worth what he payed and millions more, he just wished because around him was more than a job to you.
You stood in silence, watching one another. Today was off, you decided. He wasn’t acting like he usually did. He was more somber, more wary. Usually Oh Sehun was a funny, charismatic man. He made you comfortable and happy, never imposing or overstepping. Right now he was cold and closed off. You didn’t like it.
You huffed, hooking your fingers in the belt loop of his pants, pulling him towards you. You leaned back against the window and wound your arms around his neck. “What’s wrong?” You murmured, looking deep into his eyes. What you found there was frightening. The deep brown of his irises held no lust, no greed, not even admiration. He looked at you less like a client, less like a user of your body, and more as a person that truly cared about you. You heart warmed before your brain took over, locking the foolish beast back where it belonged, caged behind the bars of your ribs.
He watched you as the realization settled in and the bars shut down, unsurprised. It’s not like you could leave, you were his for a month no matter what. He figured he should go ahead and get what he had to say out of the way, though. He wrapped his arms around your waist, spinning you to face the window.
Instead of launching into some speech about love or some shit like that, like you thought he would, he started laughing. “Look at how small they are,” he sighed wistfully, gesturing down at all the people on the streets. He opened his mouth to continue the thought, no doubt about to launch into some meaningful speech about how we walk past people every day and they’ve each got their own lives that you’ll never know about, and how bad that scares him, but he didn’t. Instead he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering a chaste “I’ll be back.”
He returned minutes later with a remote and two plates of your favorite fruits. You sat together, knee to knee, hundreds of feet above the rest of the world. The night wore on, the hours laced with laughter and tender smiles. You almost felt like a normal human being with him, like this moment with him was your choice and not decided by the amount of dollar bills he was willing to give up to have you. When your plates were clean and your lips were stained a strawberry red, you leaned into him.
He tilted his head to rest on yours, winding one arm around your waist to rub soothing circles into the top of your thigh. “Do you ever want to move on from this job? You’ve made enough, you don’t have to do it anymore.” He spoke randomly, feeling you turn to stone beside him. Every muscle in your body locked in place and you sighed. “Sehun.” You whispered with warning dripping from your tongue. He took it in stride, barely pausing before he continued. He took a deep breath and in one breath, forced out words you hoped you’d never have to hear. “I love you, and I’m not joking.”
You leapt into the air, tears gathering in the corner of yours eyes, each droplet a plead. Each salty pearl sliding down your face begged him to take back his words. He couldn’t feel this way about you, if he said it out loud you couldn’t see him anymore. Clients and workers could NOT have a relationship. That was a rule of the trade. You didn’t want to have to put him in the past. The younger boy made you happy, made you feel alive and whole and like you weren’t nothing but an escort, a glorified prostitute. You felt far worse because you when those words crossed his lips, butterflies exploded in his stomach. You didn’t love him but you felt way more for him than you should and that terrified you.
“Don’t do this to me,” you begged, and he watched you with a blank expression. He stood with an almighty woosh, confidence blooming in his chest. “No, listen to me. I’m not asking you to do anything about it, I don’t expect you to. I just needed you to know.” With every word he inched towards you, and with every step he took forwards, you took one back. “I needed to know that you would walk down the street and feel loved, that you could pass by this building every day and feel inside your soul that I will always be here for you, waiting.”
Your back hit glass and it felt as though your spine was hollowed and filled with ice water, a chill permeating throughout your body. Your breathing was light and uneven, betraying the absolute panic drenching your very soul. You didn’t want to lose him but you didn’t want to get attached, either. He looked away from you for a moment and clicked a button on the remote in his pocket, the room filling with the beat of one of your favorite songs, a cover of Planes by SoMo.
Sehun knew you well, and knew that after he told you how he felt you’d shut down completely. He’d planned for it to happen, and he also knew you well enough to know that sex was enough to make you stop thinking about it for the time being. He needed you to open up to him, and a good fucking would make you forget; it would make you feel secure within yourself again.
He gripped your waist gently with both hands, spinning you around to face the neon lights spanning for miles. He dropped to his knees before he planted his hands on your calves, kissing upwards and following behind with his hands until he met the thick hem of your dress. He brushed his thumb across the tender flesh of your upper thigh, his cold breath wafting across the slowly forming wet patch between your legs before he lifted the hem, pressing a soft kiss to your cloth covered folds. He continued his way up your body slowly, exposing your white lace panties. These were his favorite pair in you, the delicate white making you look an angel while the lace exposed enough of your beautiful skin to tempt him.
“Have you ever read ‘The World Is Yours’ on a blimp?” was mouthed on your exposed shoulder before the dress was pulled free of you at last, and without hesitation he pressed your body up against the glass completely. The cold of your body as it pressed flush with the glass was a sharp contrast to the heat unfurling in your belly and the heat of Sehun as he pressed himself tightly against your back. Just above the defined curve of your ass, you felt his hardness as it pressed against you. He skimmed his hands up your side sensually, raising your arms to cross them above your head, palms on top of one another on the glass. “Keep them there,” he purred in your ear before his hands ghosted down the front of your body to dance above the lace of your panties. He slid his hands between your thighs, using his foot to spread your legs wider. There you stood, legs wide with your ass out, chest arched forwards so your torso leant against the glass. The position was crude and you felt turned on thinking about how you must look right now, spread wide for him. “Scream as loud as you want, as loud as you can” he taunted against your racing pulse, sucking at the smooth skin he found there.
His slid two fingers through your folds, immediately finding the wet sticky mess he had caused between your legs. He spread the wetness he found there slowly, circling your clit slowly as the fire grew within your belly. You sighed in pleasure as he picked up his pace, rubbing harshly at the bundle of nerves until you were panting heavily, fogging the glass in front of you. He reached deeper between your legs, slipping two fingers to hook into your pussy, the heel of his hand adding pressure against you. He pumped his fingers slowly, moaning into your ear when you started flicking your hips forward so his fingers would pull in and out of you faster. You needed more.
He conceded, adding another finger as he sensually slid his cum soaked fingers in and out of you. His other hand crawled up your body to where your breasts, heavy with need, were pressed tightly against the glass. He cupped one in his hand, kneading the soft flesh gently before brushing his thumb back and forth across the pebbled nub as his fingers pulsed in and out of your core.
He curled two fingers within you, scraping across your delicate walls. Your legs shook, knees buckling and the hand on your breast dropped quickly, wrapping the muscled arm attached around your waist. He repeated the motion and you let loose a throaty moan, eyes closing as your pressed your face against the glass, overcome with pleasure. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, lapping at the bruise that formed almost immediately after and you whimpered his name. He withdrew his hand from your cunt to rub quickly at your clit with his whole hand, the hardened nub shooting millions of sparks across your body. Your mind filled with warmth, the ball of heat in your stomach snapping. Every exhale was a loud, shaky moan and every inhale was a pant that echoed throughout the room. You moaned his name as you came, his fingers returning to your core to capture the cum as it poured out of you.
He pulled his hand out of your ruined panties and you listened as he sucked your juices from each finger. His lips met the shell of your ear and he groaned, “You taste so fucking good, princess.”
He pulled your hips backwards, pressing a hand down on your spine so you were bent at nearly 90 degrees, legs wide. He stepped backwards, admiring your cunt as small drop of cum fell from your clit to his floor. He slapped your swollen heat without warning, your thighs jerking at the pain. You cried out, whole body going weak as the pleasure nearly made you cum again. He grinned behind you, “You like that, princess?” He growled, the next spank he landed on your throbbing cunt even harder. Your knees buckled again, your muscles unable to listen to your brain as euphoria took over. He grabbed you, steadying you once more. “You still on the pill?” He asked and you nodded. Within seconds he had torn off his jeans, burying himself balls deep in your cunt.
His strokes were slow but strong, each one pressing your face painfully against the glass. He filled you completely, hitting every spot within you that made your world spin. The neon lights outside of the window of his high-rise faded to black as your eyes shut, pleasure consuming you completely. “Oh” you moaned, drawing out the word as his cock thrust into you. He grunted behind you as his thrust increased in speed, every thrust shoved you forwards until he gripped your hair in his hand, pulling your head back almost parallel with your body. With his other hand he slapped your ass and you clenched around him tightly, the handprint burning long after his hand was gone.
He leant back, watching as the swollen lips of your pussy parted around his painfully hard cock. You whimpered as his fingers gripped the skin of your hip tightly, bruises painting everywhere his fingertips met as though they were a paintbrush. His hand left your waist to pinch at your clit and you screamed his name, your orgasm hitting you like the wave of a tsunami. Pleasure filled you from your head, scalp burning from his grip on your hair, to your toes as they curled against the cold wood of his floor. He groaned as he came apart as your pussy clamped down around him, filling you with his hot seed. Your eyes slammed shut, hips bucking backwards as you tried to get him to fill you up again. “Fuck, yes” you whimpered, chanting the words over and over as stars burst behind your eyelids and you swore to god your heart stopped completely. He fucked you through your orgasms slowly, your cum mixing with his as it dripped from your sopping cunt. He pulled out of you after you’d both steadied your breathing, kneeling down to lick your swollen, soaked, pulsing heat clean of all juices. When he was done he tugged off his shirt, sliding it over your arms.
He gathered you in his arms, carrying your drained body into his bedroom where he tucked you under the covers before crawling in next to you. You smiled contentedly against his chest, too fucked out to be upset by his words earlier. When your breathing had evened out and your mouth had dropped open like it always did when you knocked out, he figured it was safe to speak again.
“This is just day one, princess. I have twenty nine days left.”