dontcryformememetina (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dontcryformememetina) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bakerstreet2026-01-05 09:06 am
dontcryformememetina) wrote in bakerstreet2026-01-05 09:06 am
Brothel meme
the brothel AU meme
How to Play
1. Top level with your preference: sex worker, client, or either
2. Pick your prompt/s and set a scene, or just wing it!
3. Tag around!
1. old pro
You're a proper professional with an active client base and a reputation for your skills. Can you leverage that experience to your advantage?
2. newbie
You're new to this profession and still finding your footing. Some clients find that charming, and other workers may take you under their wing.
3. demonstration
This is a special job: you're putting on a show for an audience, or maybe you're showing a new worker the ropes.
4. forbidden love
Sex workers know better than to fall for a client, and clients know better than to fall for a sex worker. Perhaps even more fraught is a relationship between two workers. This time, however... you just can't help yourself.
5. SO experience
Your job isn't just about the sex. You provide the entire girl/boyfriend experience: doting words, public appearances, accepting gifts. And yet, it's just a job... right?
6. something extra
Kink, monsters, transformation, and magic, oh my! There's something a little different about the services you offer.
7. getaway
You're ready to break away from this life, whether it's on your own or with someone you've grown close to.
8. wildcard
Anything goes!
[ Get Memes! ]
marie-claude barrault | det man fΓ₯r | ota
Abby "Abs" Saja | KPDHunters | ota
Bruce Wayne | DC Comics | OTA
col. peter sarkinien | star wars oc | m/f 20+
nepo babyson of a three-star admiral in the imperial navy, himself a decorated colonel in the imperial starfighter corps who constantly overachieves and tries to divorce himself from his privilege to prove his own merit. he's a little too reserved and introspective to live up to the image of the dashing, gregarious fighter pilot, but he's pleasant company and a very good client.peter sleeps around with local sex workers when he's on planetside missions and pays for high-class escorts when he's at home on coruscant, so either is possible. i have a lot of ideas for this but i'd particularly love to play out him being a recurrent client of a favorite sex worker and genuinely forming a friendship/bond with her (and maybe things starting to edge into ambiguously romantic, nonsexual touch while she's on the clock?), or maybe him paying for the SO experience to bring a beautiful date to some military shindig for the evening. open to crosscanon, other OCs, crossmedium, etc! happy to write the starter if you'd rather hit me with a prompt or a gisty setup you're interested in. ]
Laughing Beauty | Metal Gear | ota 18+
Very open to AUing her to whatever verse, but no matter what, the main thing to know is that she literally can't stop laughing (because of ~trauma~) and that while she'll be happy to hear about your character's life, she will not want to talk about hers.
I play her at 21 (but might appear as older, she's had a hard life), by default, as the only canon given age is "around 20". I'm fine with playing her anywhere between 18-24, though!]
no subject
By now, it's almost like she's having a good time, even if he knows it's a tic and not genuine. He's seen Beauty, or whatever her real name is off of the clock (it doesn't feel any more inauthentic to him than he did answering to Sparky instead of Peter in the cockpit for eleven years) three times now, and the meds are working.
Not for, like, the raging PTSD. But at least he can get it up again. And he's found a woman who is clean and consistent in their encounters, someone who unwaveringly respects his space when he says not to get on top of him, not to lean over him, to do absolutely nothing approaching restraint, even if it's just with the weight of her body. She knows what he likes, where and how he likes to be touched, and she's earned her name; she's drop-dead gorgeous.
Beauty provides her service very, very well, and he's a repeat customer. He also just likes her company, even if it's her job to be likeable company. He'd like to see if he can make her smile and laugh, genuinely, not because her body forces her to like his jumps and locks at the sudden slightest sound.
So he's brought home a long, pale box and set it on the bed for the woman rightfully calling herself Beauty to find when she joins him in the bedroom of his flat, the name of the furrier embossed in soft gold lettering dead center. In it, a beautifully ticked nexu fur coat, calf length, like he's seen the younger girlfriends of some of his father's associates wearing recently. She should like it. He's never known a woman to complain about money being spent on her. ]
I brought you this. Try it on.
no subject
Though she was still a bit too new at the job to have an extensive client list, and her compulsive laughter did drive some people off, the bubbly personality she projected and her particularly good looks (her old "Laughing Beauty" codename seemed a mouthful to her now, she kept it for now until she could figure out a name she actually wanted to use, even if she insisted on repeat clients to call her "LB" for an alternative that was closer to something normal) was enough to give her a pretty good reputation at least.
Among her clients, though, one that she had a peculiar interest in was someone else who had been a military person himself - even if in a more official manner than she had been. Adjusting to Peter's preferences was actually quite easy for her, as many of them were ones that she herself had shared at one point - even if she had learned to be more flexible about it on her own end - and it only served as motivation for her to try to make sure he had a satisfying encounter. But in addition to that, he was polite, thoughtful, and well... handsome too, even if she liked to think she didn't care about other people's appearance too much.
So when he once again requested her services, she was a little excited to see what he had in store for the evening. Though she had enough sense to not dress too trashy, the Beauty almost always dressed provocatively to show off her figure - low cut top and a skirt on the shorter side to show off her legs. But as she joins him in his bedroom, she's a little surprised to find that Peter had another bit of wardrobe to add to her current ensemble.
Though it certainly wouldn't be the first time a client had bought her something, as the Beauty bent over to inspect the present, surprise comes over her expression as she realizes how expensive the coat must have been. Her hand reaches down, her fingers sifting through the fur of the coat, at his insistence to put it on, but she doesn't quite follow the request just yet.]
Ah... are you certain? Ahaha?
[Though she hadn't quite kicked the habit of being suspicious of anyone that was too generous toward her, she still shoots a questioning look as she turns back around to Peter. Of course, he was probably very certain, but it's still the first question that comes to mind. It's not long after, though, that that logic starts turning in her head. Maybe he wanted her to tag around to some classy event and wanted her to look the part?
After being satisfied with that conclusion, she quickly adds another question.]
What's the occasion?
no subject
[ he says, as though that's self-evident enough. And he had. He saw it in a shop window and thought it looked incredibly plush, was impressed by the thick undercoat and the black barring lacing it. It looked warm—beautiful. It's the kind of thing he would have brought home to Elana back when their sham of a marriage was still limping along. Now he's unmarried, and certainly not the type to wear it himself—but he'd thought of Beauty, had wondered if she had something like that and decided that no, she probably doesn't, even if she sleeps with other officers. Something like this is a little ways outside of a lieutenant's paygrade.
The way Beauty touches the silky shafts of the black-tipped guard hairs gingerly, cautiously, like she's struggling to put two and two together, seems to confirm that. Peter has always kept conversation about her within the bounds of what is appropriate and not prying, but he does get the distinct sense from the little he does know and the reaction now that she isn't accustomed to having nice things, which is slightly surprising, if he's representative of her usual clientele. But it's something that he can appreciate, even if it's far from his own lived experience; Arthur Sarkinien's parents were spaceport mechanics who sold scrap parts on the side to stretch their credits a little further in the name of keeping three children fed. His father began his career as an uneducated enlisted man, not a petty officer, not an admiral. Even by the time he met the man who would ultimately become his husband, he wasn't in any position to try and win over said postdoctoral candidate with the material goods Shoan was used to.
They had maids by the time they purchased a son with their combined social currency.
That said, Peter still vividly recalls kneeling on hard tile to clean the bathroom grout with a manual toothbrush on multiple occasions regardless; his Coruscanti accent is one that falls somewhere between the linguistic tics of men like Tarkin and Dr. Harclew and the voices that shout across the repair bay of a hangar and carry through the halls of enlisted men's berthings, straddling the respective worlds of the two men and the nanny who taught him to speak. They were comfortable, but certainly not surrounded by the things they could easily afford.
So he can understand her hesitance easily enough. Maybe he enjoys it, knowing that she's not used to having nice things, being the person who presents her with something like that. Not like he's got anything else to use his pension—and the numerical compensation for an arm lost in service of the Galactic Empire—on. And what good is rank, even retired, without the associated privileges? It feels good, knowing that he can do something for her that her other clients can't. He's not just some guy; she's sleeping with a colonel. There's a little rush that comes with being able to remind her of that fact, and he's found that the people he associates with in this fashion tend to get a kick out of it, too. ]
If it's not your taste, I'm sure they can alter it, make it into a jacket or something.
no subject
Oh... ahaha...
[Her face relaxes a little again, as she turns her attention back to the coat. Though she wouldn't say she was an expert on fashion just yet (it had been something she had to learn the ropes on, after becoming a civilian again), she knew the present had to be quite expensive. Part of her does wonder if he's bought the same coat for other girls, but she keeps the cynical thoughts to herself - it wasn't her business to know that kind of thing anyway. But in spite of trying to brace herself for reality, the fact that Peter bought it for her at all was enough in itself, wasn't it?
Or was it something to be concerned about? The thought passes to try to reassure him that he didn't need to buy her gifts like that, but before she could vocalize it, the Beauty instead found herself raising her hands defensively at his suggestion.]
Ah! No, that's not necessary! It looks beautiful, really!
[Even if she speaks in a panicked, quick tone - as if to not inconvenience him more - LB did speak truthfully. It was a masterfully made coat, that much couldn't be denied. As someone with humble beginnings herself, though - hailing from a tiny village full of fishermen - she wasn't certain if something so luxurious suited someone like herself.
However, she was desperate to carve a new identity for herself, and she wasn't going to be one to turn down a present from a client she favored so much either. And if she was honest to herself? She wasn't actually certain what her "taste" actually was anyway.
So without any further hesitation, she picks up the coat carefully - as if afraid her touch alone would make it crumble - placing her arms within the sleeves, before properly fitting the rest of the garment around her body. She then turns around, the warm smile returning to her lips as she did so. For as insecure as she was about most topics, she did at least feel confident enough in her appearance to make anything look good.]
Well? Haha? What do you think?
Rumi | KPop Demon Hunters | OTA
clark kent / superman || superman (2025) || ota
Dorian Storm | Critical Role C3 | OTA
Beetlejuice | Beetlejuice the Musical
[The door slams inward, the knob creating a deep dent in the opposite wall as a black boot enters the brothel, followed by a long striped leg which is attached to a guy who looks like if a cheeseburger was a person. Beetlejuice busts up into the brothel with a fist full of twenty dollar bills and a pocket full of cocaine. He is ready for LOVE.]
LADIEEEEEES! GET IN LINE!
[He has every disease.]
Maedhros | The Silmarillion | OTA
edelgard von hresvelg | fire emblem: three houses
swoops in with widogard
Her name is not El, but something close. She comes from nobility. She has evidence of a terrible trauma scored into her skin. She'd never had sex before she paid him handsomely (more than he should rightfully earn, not being a trained courtesan, but he wasn't about to argue) to take her to bed. Those are the things he can be most certain of. There is much he could extrapolate from there, but it would amount to nothing more than guessing.
The Chateau is a high-end establishment, so all of its cliente are well off, including a fair few nobles, though the names of any consequence are always there for Marion. Being a known patron of the Ruby of the Sea is something of a status symbol. He's been with a noble or two himself, though that was before this job, and only men--which makes El more unique still. As wary as Caleb is of intimacy, once it came with a promise of relative safety, a roof over his head, and a steady income to support his magical studies, this work has actually turned out to suit him. Though certainly never trained as a courtesan, the training heΒ hasΒ had (however much he despises it) in reading and dealing with people serves him well. There is something to be said for relationships in which expectations are clear from the outset, when everyone involved knows what they want and what they are getting. He also simply likes sex, and his taste in people and roles and activities is wide and varied, which is helpful when it's such a central part of the job. While physical engagements are solidly secondary to his work now--on average he's only booked perhaps one night a week--it's important to know what he's talking about when he's consulting with clients to determine who would be their best match, or even when he's doing the math to keep this place running smoothly, recording who spent how much for what and analyzing where some people could be charging more.
This place has been good for him. He's even becoming something resembling friends with the star courtesan's daughter, mostly because Jester has decided it. The important part is that here, unlike before, he has a choice. He's getting paid even if he isn't fucking, and as long as he is getting his work done, he can make extra by taking clients if the opportunity arises. But he doesn't have to. He can accept or reject offers as he pleases, and the only regulars he keeps are people who both pay him and treat him well.
Occasionally he meets someone interesting enough that he's especially eager to engage in this exchange. El falls into this category. In fact, in a matter of hours she'd managed to make such an impression that he almost asked her if she would return, which he has never come anywhere close to doing before because it's such an obvious faux pas. But he'd liked her, really liked her, a great deal. When she'd asked, after a lengthy discussion, if he would be willing to partner with her, he'd been wildly flattered but not entirely surprised. There was an energy to their conversation he's learned to recognize, a growing mutual appreciation, and as their night progressed, so did that connection. She is a sharp, confident, beautiful young woman, and when she eventually bared herself completely, his growing fascination only became more complex as he took in the extensive, unusual, in some ways too familiar scarring on her body. He'd admired her, and hoped that perhaps seeing his own scarred forearms, bared only when they were in the privacy and relative safety of his own space, was reassuring somehow. Her inexperience in bed, far from being deterimental, deepened their intimacy. She was...very endearing. (Endearingly horny, even, which he found immensely relatable.) Her curiosity and eagerness to experience acts and sensations that were new to her was charming and attractive, and through her Caleb could enjoy a fresh appreciation for everything they shared.
He thinks he probably enjoyed it as much as she did, actually. When she chose to make another appointment, his sense of accomplishment was only matched by his relief that he hadn't put her off by being too much. He could really use that kind of coin, and...he is very curious about her. It would be nice to see her again. After several weeks, again is finally tonight.
As much as the lounge is a major component of the Chateau's business, of course there is also a side entrance for clients who prefer to keep a low profile, such as El. That door, opening from a secluded courtyard onto a quiet back hallway, is where he meets her, right on time, in order to take her upstairs himself. Rather than letting one of the attendants do so, he prefers a more personal touch. People who come here and want him instead of one of the real professionals on offer (especially those who return to him more than once) do so because they are looking for something less formal and polished; more down-to-earth, low-pressure companionship. They don't want acclaim or extravagance. They want someone attractive but attainable, who they don't feel they have to impress or put on airs for, someone they can relax with. They want thoughtfulness, understanding, comfort, a personal connection--and of course, the skill and versatility to satsify their sexual needs. Above all, he's found that they like to be remembered. They feel special and cared for when he arranges things to their specific preferences without needing to be told, when he recalls details of their lives they've mentioned off-hand, when they get into bed and he knows exactly how to touch them. This is a part of his job he's found that he likes, too.
So he lets her see how quietly pleased he is when he first glimpses her face beneath her hood, greeting her with easy warmth and an uneven smile, like a friend. Though some people require more...embelishment of his true feelings than others, there is nothing falsified or forced about him today; he really is glad she's here. They may not know each other well yet, but he would like to. Not one to put on airs, and lacking both the skill and inclination to make himself glitzy and beautiful the way the brothel's stars do, Caleb looks much the same as he had on their previous meeting: unpretentiously groomed, with a short beard and long red hair brushed to a glossy copper sheen pulled back in a low tail, wearing sensible boots and simple clothing tailored to his lanky frame, dark trousers, a burgundy waist coat, and a linen shirt with long sleeves buttoned at the wrist, concealing his arms.
"Hallo, El," he says, and leans down to kiss her cheek just as he had when they said their goodbyes the last time. As he leans back, his eyes--blue, quietly searching--meet her striking lavender ones. "Come, we'll skip the crowd this time." There's no hesitation before leading her upstairs first thing. What she is here for is private, including whatever they may discuss, so there's no sense standing there in the hall.
The Chateau is arranged for its courtesans to live on the premises while they are working, so they take clients in their own rooms. He is no different, so the room he leads El to tonight is once again his own. Many of the rooms in the house have a similar layout, but where most of the regular workers tend to keep their personal possessions out of sight, leaving a blank slate for their clients, Caleb's room sees fewer guests, and so looks more lived in. Though the bed, easily large enough for two, is made up fresh and beautifully befitting the Chateau's luxuriant hospitality, there is a stack of three books on the stand beside it. The shelf across the room has even more, and the surface of the writing desk beside it would normally be piled with papers scrawled with line after line of Caleb's handwriting, but Caleb does tidy up mindfully for guests, so tonight there is only a map and a few bottles of ink. His book harness with both books is draped over the back of the desk chair, and a long weathered brown coat hangs from a hook on the wall. The tall dresser in the corner has various trinkets laid out on top, including a little carved cat statuette. Toward the other side of the room is a small tea table with two chairs and a tea tray already laid out with cups, saucers, and a steaming pot. She'll likely recognize the scent of the tea she'd mentioned enjoying on her last visit, and a modest selection of sweet bisuits. In the far corner a large copper tub is half hidden behind an ornate but faded red and gold changing screen.
"I can take that for you," he offers when the door is closed behind them, gesturing to her cloak. His smile returns with a gentle slant of his mouth, but it is mostly in his eyes. "Make yourself comfortable, and we will talk about what I can help you with tonight."
no subject
There is a little danger, she thinks, in liking him as readily as she does but she would not prefer to like him less. He is a perfectly suitable partner in this oddly intimate business relationship. And there is only one thing that nears making her forget that it is, no matter how agreeable, a business arrangement. It isn't the charming way he dips his chin and leans into her to press a kiss to her cheek in a type of greeting she is far removed from everywhere else. It isn't the embarrassingly unforeseen thrill it gives her to have him call her El so freely, the only name he knows to use for her. It isn't even the scent of her favorite tea greeting her when she steps into his room, which is a delightful little surprise that probably should not be one.
It's the perfect blinding heat of orgasm, those precious few moments where all she knows is pleasure. Repeatable, and not difficult to find at the tips of his eminently capable fingers or on his tongue or around his cock. For that very short span of bliss she can almost forget a great deal.
Which is a large part of the reason she has returned. She can't help but admire skill and her own distracted and impatient solo attempts have proven to her that she can use the help.
And, well, she likes him. In another world they could be friends.
"You have a good memory," she offers, smiling enough for it to reach her eyes, as she nods toward the table. She lowers her hood to reveal the long braid of her pale hair and then unclasps her cloak with one hand, letting him take it as he so courteously offers. In her other hand she holds an unmarked bag, which she places on the edge of his bed: she'll address that later.
As on her first visit, she has avoided wearing what many might consider her typical colors. No eye-catching red, no accents that match her eyes. She wears a nearly modest dress the deep purple of berries that stubbornly stain your fingers, its sleeves long and upper back bare. Her wrist-length gloves are the same black as her boots. She beelines to the tea waiting on the table and pours for both of them before sitting down. "I hope you have been well. Thank you for meeting with me again."
zoey | kpop demon hunters | ota
haku | naruto | m/m
clea dessendre | clair obscur: expedition 33 | ota 21+
Leona Kingscholar | Twisted Wonderland
-protective leader of a brothel who uses both his brawn and finesse to provide for and protect his dames;
-a john who purchases usually-but-not-always-lady partners for the night... only to not actually have sex and instead make them keep him company while he studies until sunrise. often makes said partner do things like order them food on his card, light his cigarette, remind him when 40 minutes have passed for something— little servicey role things, but probably isn't actually known for having sex on the worker's time;
-some sort of Pretending to be here or playing a role in a movie type situation
other prefs & info on his journal! he is 20 years old but can be played older in aus]
Clark Kent | My Adventures with Superman | M/F