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hoshifighting · 4 months

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Stripper! Reader x Business Man! Lee Chan

— Synopsis: Workaholic Lee Chan's Friday night takes an unexpected turn when he joins friends at a strip club, only to find himself captivated by you, a dancer he can't seem to stay away from. Despite his reservations, Chan finds himself drawn to your company, booking time with you night after night. — WC: 8.8k — WARNINGS: Strangers to lovers, smut, mentions of alcohol, strip clubs, money throwing, booking, fluff, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, fingering, oral (f. receiving), riding, g'spot stimulation, clit stimulation, male sensitivity.

Lee Chan held the weight of being the CEO of the imperium that his dad left at a very young age. Frat parties, hanging out, late-night talks? Nah, not for him. He had to take care of the company and honor the inheritance that fell into his lap. His co-workers could remember very well the times that Chan walked around and around his office, shoulders tense as if he carried the world on them.

His days started early and ended late, filled with back-to-back meetings, strategy sessions, and endless paperwork. The once carefree and spirited young man had transformed into a focused and driven leader, his every move calculated to ensure the success and stability of the company.

Chan's office was a testament to his dedication—shelves lined with business books, awards, and framed photos of his father, a constant reminder of the legacy he was determined to uphold. The large windows offered a panoramic view of the city skyline, but Chan rarely had time to enjoy it. He was always too engrossed in his work, too preoccupied with the responsibilities that consumed his every waking moment.

Even though his life felt like being stuck in traffic on a rainy day, Chan couldn't deny that he loved the results of his hard work. He looked at the luxurious cars parked in his garage—sleek, powerful machines that represented the pinnacle of automotive engineering.

His closet was a veritable treasure trove of sartorial excellence. Different types of watches, ties, suits, and shoes from every high-end brand imaginable filled the space, each piece carefully chosen to reflect his impeccable taste and status. The feel of finely crafted leather shoes, the weight of a bespoke suit on his shoulders, the precision of an intricate timepiece on his wrist—all these were constant reminders of what he had achieved.

Chan's wealth allowed him to indulge in the kind of extravagances most people could only dream of. He could spend an exaggerated amount of money in a matter of seconds on something completely futile, like a super shaver with a gold coating—exotic and utterly unnecessary.

The week was ending, and Chan listened to the fuss inside his friend group about hanging out this Friday. Jeonghan, seeing his colleagues leaving their desks, noticed Chan still at his desk, tapping his fingers on the glass table. With his bag slung over his shoulder, Jeonghan approached him.

"I know it's a stupid question, but will you come with us?" he asked. Chan was usually seen only at corporate events. Jeonghan couldn't remember the last time he enjoyed a beer with his friend.

Chan looked up, a hint of surprise flickering across his face. He opened his mouth to respond, the automatic refusal ready on his tongue, but something made him pause. He glanced around the office, now emptying out as people headed off to start their weekends. The thought of another solitary night of work made him feel a twinge of longing for something different.

"Come on, man," Jeonghan urged, sensing the hesitation. "Just one night. It’ll be fun. You need a break."

Chan sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew Jeonghan was right. The constant grind was wearing him down, and maybe, just maybe, a night out with friends was exactly what he needed.

"Alright," Chan finally said, a small smile playing on his lips. "I'll come."

Jeonghan's eyes widened in surprise. "Seriously?"

Chan nodded, standing up and grabbing his jacket. "Yeah, let's do it."

Jeonghan grinned, clapping him on the back. "That's the spirit! You won't regret it."

Before they left the building, Chan paused and asked, "Jeonghan?"

"Yes?" Jeonghan answered, turning to face him.

"Where are we going?" Chan inquired, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Jeonghan just smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You'll see," he said, leaving Chan to wonder what the night had in store for him.

[...]

"A strip club? You must be kidding me!" Chan exclaimed as he took in the sight of the half-dark establishment. Neon lights flickered and danced around the room, casting colorful glows on the walls. Music blasted from speakers, filling the air with a pulsating beat.

He could see several women with different curves, colors, and hairstyles, dressed in scanty outfits—or sometimes nothing at all. The atmosphere was electric, a stark contrast to the corporate environment he was used to.

Jeonghan laughed, clapping Chan on the back. "Come on, man, loosen up! It's just for fun."

Chan hesitated, his eyes darting around the room. He felt a mix of discomfort and curiosity. "I don't know, Jeonghan..."

"Relax," Jeonghan said, guiding him further inside. "We all need a break sometimes. Just enjoy the night. You deserve it."

Chan took a deep breath, deciding to go along with it. Maybe Jeonghan was right—maybe he did need this. As they found a spot to sit, Chan tried to shake off his reservations.

His friends immediately ordered bottles and bottles of soju, beer, whiskey—whatever the bar had. Chan downed his whiskey in a single gulp, exclaiming, "If my dad knew I was here..."

Chan's eyes widened in surprise. "You're kidding."

"Nope," Jeonghan replied, pouring more whiskey into Chan's glass. "He said every hardworking man deserves a break. Guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, huh?"

Chan couldn't help but laugh at that. The thought of his father, the man he idolized for his strict work ethic, letting loose in a place like this was almost too surreal.

As some of his friends disappeared one by one, Chan found himself alone on the couch they had booked. "Great," he muttered under his breath, feeling a twinge of discomfort at being left alone in such a place.

Just as he was about to sink further into the cushions, the little stage that he hadn't even noticed until now suddenly lit up. A tall pole stood in the middle, and Chan tilted his head in curiosity.

Then, a pair of really, really high heels appeared, and Chan's throat went dry. You emerged onto the stage, your skin shining under the purple light. The outfit you wore was scandalous, barely covering anything, and Chan couldn't help but notice the little glitters spread on your skin, catching the light as you moved.

You took hold of the pole and began to dance around it, moving with a grace and confidence that left Chan mesmerized. Your movements were fluid and controlled, every sway of your hips and arch of your back drawing him in deeper. It was as if you were performing just for him, and Chan felt like he could get lost in the rhythm of your dance forever.

As you held yourself up on the pole like a pro, Chan couldn't tear his eyes away. He felt like he was being swallowed by the couch, completely captivated by the sight before him. In that moment, nothing else mattered but you and the hypnotic spell you cast over him with your dance.

As you made eye contact with Chan, a devilish smile played on your lips. He looked like a new piece of meat, a pretty young man who had never been seen before in the club. You got down from the stage, the sway of your hips drawing all eyes to you as you walked towards him.

"First time here, sweetie?" you asked, laying your hands on his shoulders. Chan felt like he couldn't breathe with the view of your tits practically in his face.

"My eyes are up here," you said, chuckling as you caught him ogling your chest.

Chan blinked, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck. "Uh, yeah," he stammered, tearing his gaze away from your cleavage. "First time."

You chuckled, running a hand through your hair as you leaned in closer. "Well, lucky for you, you've got me to show you the ropes," you said, your voice low and sultry.

"You're tense," you observe, noticing the stiffness in Chan's shoulders. Without waiting for a response, you step behind him and begin to massage his shoulders, your fingers working their magic as you knead the tension away.

Chan lets out a sigh of relief, his muscles melting under your skilled touch. "Yeah," he admits, his voice soft. "Work's been... stressful lately."

You nod in understanding, continuing to work out the knots in his shoulders. "I get it," you say, your voice soothing. "But you're here now, and tonight is all about letting go of that stress and just enjoying yourself."

Chan leans back into your touch, closing his eyes as he relaxes into the sensation. "I guess you're right," he murmurs, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You smile too, glad to see him starting to unwind. "That's better," you say, your fingers tracing soothing circles on his skin. "Just focus on the here and now. Forget about everything else for a while."

Chan nods.

You walk around Chan again, swaying your hips seductively in front of him. His mind races, unsure of what to do next, but before he can even think, you're sitting on his lap, circling your hips against his.

Chan smiles shyly, feeling the heat from your body as you move against him. He can't help but notice the money tucked into the sides of your little shorts, a reminder of where he is and what's expected of him.

It's exhilarating and nerve-wracking all at once, but there's something undeniably thrilling about having you so close, your body pressed against his.

As you continue to dance, Chan's hands hover uncertainly over your hips, unsure of where to touch or how to respond. He feels a flush of embarrassment at his own inexperience, but he's determined not to let it show. Instead, he focuses on the way your body moves against his.

And you smile knowingly, sensing his hesitation, and guide his hands to your waist, encouraging him.

Chan's hands move from your waist to your hips and then down to your thigh, his fingers grazing the soft skin as he explores the contours of your body. His pulse quickens as he feels the warmth of your thigh pressed against his pocket, and he can't resist the urge to reach into his wallet and retrieve a pouch of money.

With a mischievous grin, Chan brings his hand to the top of your head, letting the notes rain down on you like confetti. You laugh, delighted by the unexpected gesture, and give him a big smile.

"What's your name?" you ask, your voice playful.

"Chan," he replies, feeling a surge of confidence.

You lick your lips, your gaze lingering on his. "Nice to meet you, Channie," you purr, the nickname, and Chan blushes.

[...]

The next Monday, Chan sat at his desk, his eyes fixed on nothing in particular. His mind raced with a million thoughts, his thoughts still consumed by the events of that night. He was lost in his own thoughts, replaying every moment, every touch, every glance.

A knock on his door startled him out of his trance, and he quickly tried to compose himself, pretending to be engrossed in some papers spread out on his desk.

"Come in," Chan called, his voice slightly shaky.

The door opened, and Jeonghan stepped inside, giving Chan a knowing smile. "Hey there, sleepyhead," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Chan felt a flush of embarrassment heat his cheeks. "Oh, hey Jeonghan," he replied, trying to sound casual.

Jeonghan chuckled, walking over to Chan's desk and leaning against it casually. "So, how was your night?" he asked, his tone laced with amusement.

Chan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a suitable response. "Um, it was... interesting," he finally managed, his voice trailing off uncertainly.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Interesting, huh?" he said, his tone teasing. "Well, if you ever need any pointers on how to navigate the world of strip clubs, you know who to ask."

Chan's cheeks burned even hotter, and he couldn't help but laugh at Jeonghan's playful teasing. "Thanks, but I think I'll pass," he said, relieved to have the topic of conversation shifted away from his night of unexpected adventure.

Chan spent the entire weekend consumed by thoughts of you, unable to shake the memories of your encounter at the club. As Monday rolled around, he found himself itching to see you again, the usual routine of work feeling dull and uninspired.

Deciding that today was not the day for extra hours at the office, Chan made his way to the club, a sense of anticipation building in his chest. He arrived at the club, his eyes scanning the room eagerly in search of you.

As he looked around, a receptionist approached him, sensing his lost expression. "Can I help you?" she asked, her voice polite and friendly.

Chan nodded, grateful for the assistance. "Yes, I'm looking for a girl with hair like this," he said, mimicking the length and curl of your hair with his hands.

The receptionist's eyes lit up with recognition. "Ah, you must be looking for Y/N," she said, a smile playing on her lips. "Follow me, I'll take you to her."

There you were, dancing around the pole with a big smile on your face, as if you were truly enjoying every second of it. Chan watched from the corner of the room, his arms crossed and a big smile on his face as he observed you.

The club was crowded, with many people gathered around you, admiring your performance. Chan felt a pang of jealousy as he watched others vying for your attention, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from you.

As the night wore on and people began to leave, Chan noticed you finally catching sight of him. Your eyes met his, and you gave him a playful wink, rolling your hips as you glanced at him over your shoulder.

Chan's heart skipped a beat at your playful gesture, and he couldn't help but grin back at you. Despite the crowd around you, it felt like you were dancing just for him, and in that moment, Chan felt a surge of warmth and connection unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

As you took a break from dancing, you bent down to pick up some notes from the stage floor. Before you could gather them all, Chan approached, leaning on the stage with a playful grin.

"Leave it on the ground," he said, extending a big wad of money towards you. "Take it."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I didn't even have time for you today," you teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Did I ask?" Chan replied, his smile widening. "Take it."

You couldn't help but laugh at his playful response, taking the money from his hand. "You liked me that much, huh?" you asked, knowing full well the answer. You were well aware of the power you held.

"Hmm, I think I need to see more," Chan teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You giggled, enjoying the banter between you. "Well, if you want me all to yourself, you'll have to book," you replied with a playful wink.

Chan's eyes lit up at the suggestion. "Can I book all of your agenda?" he asked eagerly.

You stood up, giving him a coy smile. "Don't be greedy, Channie," you teased, enjoying the way he looked at you with eager anticipation.

You glanced down at the wad of money in your hand, barely able to fit into your shorts, and then looked back up at Chan with a playful smile.

"Well, I think I can spare some time for you," you said, glancing over at the clock on the wall. "But just a little while."

Chan's face lit up with excitement as he nodded eagerly. "That's all I need," he replied, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

[...]

As Chan began appearing almost every day, he became a familiar face at the club, a quiet yet eager client of yours. The receptionist would often give you a knowing look, silently conveying that Chan had arrived and had booked time with you once again.

Of course, there were other loyal clients who frequented the club, but none seemed to hold the same level of fascination for you as Chan did. There was a certain shine in his eyes whenever he entered the club, a distinct aura of anticipation and eagerness that set him apart from the other customers.

You couldn't help but wonder why you had let him know about the option to book time with you. Perhaps it was the way he looked at you with such genuine interest and excitement, or maybe it was the thrill of having someone so captivated by your presence. Whatever the reason, you found yourself looking forward to his visits, eager to see where each encounter would lead.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of surprise when Chan didn't show up for his usual visit. It was as if a small piece of the excitement and anticipation that had become a part of your routine was suddenly missing. Without even realizing it, you found yourself scanning the crowd, searching for his familiar face.

Then, just as you were starting to wonder where he was, you spotted him entering the club. Your heart skipped a beat as you watched him make his way to his special seat, right in front of you. His genuine smile lit up his face, and you couldn't help but smile back, the warmth of his presence washing over you like a wave.

With renewed energy and enthusiasm, you danced with even more passion and heart than before. You knew that Chan was watching, appreciating every move, every moment.

Over the following weeks, Chan's visits became a cherished routine. Each time he arrived, you could sense the anticipation in his eyes, the unspoken hope that maybe tonight would be different.

One evening, as you were finishing your performance and making your way to his table, he finally mustered the courage to ask. "Hey, would you like to grab a drink with me sometime? Outside of here, I mean," he said, his voice full of genuine warmth and a hint of nervousness.

You smiled softly, appreciating his boldness but knowing you had to set boundaries. "I'm flattered, Chan, but I don't hang out with customers outside of work," you replied, your tone gentle yet firm.

A few nights later, he tried again, this time with a different approach. "There's this amazing new restaurant that just opened up downtown. I'd love to take you there," he offered, his eyes hopeful.

You shook your head slightly, maintaining your friendly demeanor. "I appreciate the invite, but I have a policy about not mixing my work life with my personal life," you explained, hoping he would understand.

Undeterred, Chan continued to ask, each time finding new ways to express his interest. "There's a gallery opening this weekend. I thought it might be fun to check it out together," he suggested one night, his enthusiasm palpable.

Once again, you gently declined. "That sounds lovely, but I really can't. I have to keep things professional with my clients," you said, feeling a pang of regret at having to turn him down yet again.

Each time he asked, you could see the slight disappointment in his eyes, but he always respected your boundaries. And despite your refusals, he never stopped coming back, never stopped watching you with that same genuine admiration and respect.

Tonight, you made sure every detail was perfect. Your hair cascaded in flawless waves, and you wore your best outfit, accentuating every curve just right. You were eager to dance for Chan, feeling a flutter of excitement as you anticipated his arrival. Sure enough, Chan appeared, booking the rest of the night with you as he had been doing lately.

When he approached, you greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, a small gesture that had become part of your interactions. "Hey, Channie," you said with a playful smile. "So, what’s it gonna be tonight? Shorts or no shorts?"

Chan smiled warmly, a bit of that usual nervous energy in his eyes. "Actually," he began, his tone softer than usual, "I just want to talk tonight. I want to spend time with you."

You blinked, taken aback. No customer had ever asked for just your company before. "You... you just want to talk?" you repeated, making sure you heard him right.

He nodded, a sincere expression on his face. "Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love watching you dance. But tonight, I just want to get to know you better. You know, beyond all this," he gestured vaguely around the club.

Still processing his request, you motioned to the couch. "Alright, let's sit then." You both settled onto the plush seats, the atmosphere suddenly feeling more intimate and less transactional.

"So, what do you want to know?" you asked, trying to mask your nervousness with a casual tone.

Chan leaned forward slightly, his eyes earnest. "Everything. What's your favorite color? What's your dream vacation? What do you do when you're not here?" He paused, then added with a chuckle, "I know it sounds silly, but I really want to know the real you."

You smiled, touched by his genuine curiosity. "Well, my favorite color is …" you began, feeling a bit shy. "As for a dream vacation, I've always wanted to visit Santorini. The pictures look so beautiful, like a place out of a fairytale."

Chan listened intently, his focus unwavering. "Santorini sounds amazing. I can picture you there."

You chuckled, the image of you in Santorini bringing a warm feeling to your chest. "And when I'm not here, I love to paint. It's my way of unwinding, letting my creativity flow."

His eyes lit up. "Painting? That's incredible. What kind of things do you paint?"

You shrugged lightly, feeling more comfortable as the conversation flowed. "Mostly landscapes and abstract pieces. It's like putting a piece of my soul onto the canvas."

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence, both of you absorbing the depth of the conversation. Chan finally broke it, his voice soft. "You know, I've always admired how dedicated you are to what you do, I know it's now easy at all. But hearing about your passions and dreams, it makes me admire you even more."

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and you found yourself opening up more than you had with anyone in a long time. "Thank you, Chan. It means a lot to hear that."

He reached out, gently squeezing your hand. "Thank you for sharing with me. I know this isn’t what you usually do, but it means a lot to me."

Chan observed the small figurine on the table, curiosity lighting up his eyes. “Where do you get these?” he asked, leaning closer to get a better look.

You smiled, a bit shyly. “I make them myself,” you said, enjoying the surprise that flickered across his face.

“Really? That’s amazing,” he praised, his admiration evident. You shrugged modestly.

“It’s not that hard,” you replied, still smiling. “They’re always small.”

Chan chuckled, a warm sound that made you feel even more at ease. He started to remove his blazer, and before you knew it, he placed it gently around your shoulders, covering a good part of you. The gesture was so kind and considerate that it made you feel even more comfortable, despite usually feeling at ease in your usual skimpy outfits.

As you nestled into the blazer, you couldn’t help but notice how much more at ease you felt. Chan’s presence was different; it wasn’t just about the physical attraction or the lavish spending. There was a gentleness, a genuine care that made you feel safe and valued.

“I don’t usually do this,” you admitted, looking at him with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Chan smiled back, his eyes soft. “It’s my pleasure. You deserve to feel comfortable.”

The conversation flowed easily as Chan began to share bits and pieces of his life. He spoke about his responsibilities as CEO, the pressure of living up to his father’s legacy, and the sacrifices he had to make. His words were carefully chosen, mindful of not coming across as boastful despite his affluent lifestyle. You could tell he was trying to be as honest as possible while downplaying the extravagance.

“And that’s pretty much my life,” Chan concluded with a slight sigh. “It’s demanding, but it’s what I have to do.”

You admired his humility, realizing how grounded he remained despite his wealth. “It sounds like a lot to handle,” you said softly, your eyes reflecting your newfound respect for him. “But you do it so well. It’s impressive.”

Chan’s expression softened, a mixture of gratitude and weariness in his eyes. “Thank you. It’s not always easy, but I try.”

“You’re more than just a pretty boy,” you teased lightly, wanting to lift the mood. “You’re a hardworking, humble man.”

He laughed, the sound filling the space between you with warmth. “And you’re not just a beautiful dancer. You’re talented and creative.”

[...]

The next morning, you were chatting with the girls—your coworkers—as they finished their hair for the night.

“And he just wanted to talk,” you said, a bit incredulously. “He even asked about my favorite color.”

The girls collectively let out a heartfelt “Awww,” their eyes wide with interest and affection.

“Seriously?” one of them, Mina, asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “That’s so sweet.”

“He seems different,” another added, giggling.

“Yeah,” you nodded, still a bit surprised yourself. “We just talked. It was...nice.”

Before the conversation could continue, the receptionist entered the room, a knowing smile on her face. “Ya! Y/N-nie! Your Channie is here,” she announced, her tone teasing.

It was unusual for any customer to visit on a Saturday morning, a time usually reserved for the staff to unwind and prepare for the week ahead.

“It’s Saturday morning,” Mina whispered, nudging you playfully. “No customers come in unless they lost something.”

“Let him in,” you said, trying to keep your tone casual but feeling the flutter of anticipation.

As Chan walked in, he was met with a scene unlike the usual vibrant atmosphere of the club. The girls were dressed in comfortable clothes, some with bobs in their hair, others doing their nails or simply lounging around.

You were drying a glass behind the bar. He looked around, slightly surprised but smiling.

“Good morning, girls,” he greeted, his voice cheerful. "Good morning Y/N…" He says in a special and tender tone, just for you.

“Good morning,” the girls chimed back in unison, their eyes following his every move.

You put down the glass and walked over to him, a wide smile on your face. “Channie, what are you doing here?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“I wanted to see you,” he replied, his gaze soft and sincere. He seemed a bit out of place in the relaxed environment, but his presence was a welcome one. You could feel the girls watching the exchange with rapt attention, like they were watching an opera unfold.

Chan noticed that you didn’t have bobs in your hair like some of the other girls. Gesturing toward your hair, he asked, “No bobs for you today?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “It’s my day off. I’m not dancing today.”

The girls exchanged knowing looks, some stifling giggles. One of them, Lisa, leaned over and whispered loudly enough for you to hear, “Looks like someone’s here to see you even when you’re not performing.”

You blushed, glancing at Chan, who seemed equally flustered but amused by the comment. He recovered quickly, his smile returning.

Chan stood there, his eyes filled with hope and a hint of nervousness. "Would you like to spend the day with me?" he asked, his tone gentle and inviting.

You chuckled, a playful glint in your eye. "Hmm, I've already told you about hanging out with my customers," you teased, enjoying the banter.

Before Chan could respond, Mina chimed in from the background, her voice filled with encouragement. "Oh, come on! You should accept it!"

Chan seized the opportunity, smiling wider. "You’re not on your work schedule now, are you?"

That shut your mouth, leaving you momentarily speechless. The girls burst into giggles, clearly enjoying the exchange.

“Well, when you put it that way…” you trailed off, pretending to think it over.

Chan’s smile grew, sensing victory. “So, is that a yes?”

You sighed theatrically, then grinned. “Fine, you win. I’ll spend the day with you.”

“Great!” Chan said, visibly relieved and excited. “I promise it’ll be fun.”

You nodded, your smile widening. “Let me just finish up here, and we can go.”

As you gathered your things, the girls couldn’t resist a few more teasing comments, but it was all in good fun, as Chan waited patiently.

As the day unfolded, Chan took you to places you hadn't had the time to visit in years. You sipped coffee at a cozy café, strolled through the park, and even caught a movie at the cinema. With each passing moment, you found yourself enjoying his company more and more, feeling a sense of freedom and joy you hadn't experienced in a long time.

"This has been the best day off ever," you exclaimed, unable to contain your excitement as you walked side by side with Chan.

His heart swelled with happiness at your words, his smile growing wider. He could have taken you to a luxurious restaurant or shopping for designer labels, but he sensed that wasn't what you wanted. Instead, he decided to let you choose how to spend the rest of the day.

Careful to open doors for you and ensure your comfort, Chan drove you around in his luxurious car, enjoying each other's company and the simplicity of the moment. As he glanced at you from the driver's seat, he couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over him.

"Where to next?" he asked, his voice filled with anticipation.

You playfully pretended to ponder your options, teasing him about having more surprises up his sleeve. Chan laughed, shrugging his shoulders as he drove. You noticed that you were nearing your apartment, and the idea popped into your head.

"How about we go to my place?" you suggested, surprising even yourself with the invitation.

Chan's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he quickly masked it with a smile. "Your place? Are you sure?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of excitement building in your chest. "Yeah, why not? I'd love for you to see where I live."

Chan couldn't hide his delight at your invitation, his curiosity piqued. He parked the car and walked with you to your apartment building, taking in the surroundings with interest.

Chan's eyes wandered around the apartment, taking in the details of your life that adorned the walls. He saw framed photographs capturing cherished memories – graduations, family gatherings, outings with friends. The images painted a picture of a life rich in experiences and relationships.

His gaze shifted to the plushies scattered across the couch, a playful and endearing touch that brought a smile to his face. It was clear to him that you had a warmth and sweetness that extended beyond the confines of the club where he first met you.

As you disappeared into the kitchen, Chan took a moment to soak in the atmosphere of your home. The tranquility of the space, combined with the personal touches that reflected your personality, made him feel strangely at ease.

In that moment, he realized that he was seeing a side of you that few others had the privilege of witnessing – the real you, beyond the glamorous facade of the club.

As you settled back onto the couch with snacks in hand, Chan joined you, his presence filling the space with warmth. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he began recounting his visit to the strip club earlier that day.

You listened intently, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as he shared the details of his adventure. When he mentioned Jeonghan's involvement, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude towards your friend for unknowingly setting this day in motion.

"Looks like I owe Jeonghan a big thank you," you said, your voice muffled as you took a bite of your snack.

Chan raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "So, Jeonghan is the reason we met, huh?" he teased, leaning closer to you.

You chuckled, feeling a playful energy between you. "Looks like it," you replied, unable to suppress a smile.

Chan's teasing grin widened at your response, and he leaned in closer, his playful demeanor evident. "Oh, so you're thanking Jeonghan, but not me?" he teased, raising an eyebrow in mock indignation.

With a soft smile, you turned to Chan, gratitude evident in your eyes. "Thank you, Channie," you said, your voice sincere as you expressed your appreciation.

Chan returned your smile, his gaze warm as he listened to your words. "For what?" he asked, though he already had a feeling of what you meant.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts before replying. "For everything," you began, your tone heartfelt. "For the moments we've shared, the conversations we've had... Even on the nights you booked me, we talked more than danced," you admitted, a fondness evident in your voice.

Chan's smile widened at your words, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "Well, I guess I'm just a talkative guy," he joked, though there was a hint of sincerity in his tone.

Chan's touch was tender as he brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his gaze lingering on your lips with a mixture of hesitation and longing. You could feel the tension building between you, an unspoken desire hanging in the air.

When he spoke your name, you couldn't help but respond with a soft sound of acknowledgment, your heart fluttering with anticipation. His next words sent a shiver down your spine, his voice barely above a whisper as he confessed his thoughts.

"I know it's not allowed to kiss the dancers in the club," he began, his words laden with a sense of urgency, "but... we're not in the club right?"

His question hung in the air, heavy with possibility. In that moment, the boundaries that had separated you in the club seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, alone in the intimacy of your shared space.

You met Chan's gaze, your heart pounding in your chest as you considered his words. Despite the rules and restrictions that governed your interactions in the club, here, in this moment, you felt a freedom that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

With a hesitant smile, you leaned in closer to him, your breath mingling with his as you whispered, "No, we're not in the club." And in that simple acknowledgment, you gave voice to the unspoken truth that had been lingering between you all along.

Chan's hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips crashed into yours. His tongue explored your mouth with a fervent passion, and you found yourself breathing hard, your fingers clutching the collar of his shirt to deepen the kiss.

The truth was, the more you refused Chan's invitations to dinner, the more you denied the gifts he insisted on giving you, the more you avoided his attempts to kiss you—his feelings for you only grew stronger. And now, seeing his insistence on simply having your company, and not just as the girl who would entertain him at night, made you feel all your girlhood feelings again.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, you looked into his eyes, your breath mingling with his. "Chan..." you whispered "Why do you keep coming back? Why do you keep trying so hard?"

He held your gaze, his eyes filled with a mix of determination and tenderness. "Because you matter to me, Y/N. More than just a dancer, more than just a pretty face. I see you, the real you, and I want to know you better."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you felt a rush of warmth and affection for this man who saw beyond the surface. "But I'm not used to this," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not used to someone caring this much."

Chan's grip on your neck tightened slightly, a comforting reassurance. "Then let me show you how it feels. Let me show you that you deserve to be cared for, to be cherished."

"Show me," you whisper, your eyes locked on Chan's lips. He captures your mouth in a passionate kiss, his lips trailing down to your neck. His hands find the hem of your shirt, and he pulls it over your head. You pull him closer, desperate to feel him, your hands sliding under his shirt to caress his warm skin.

His hands slide to your thighs, lifting you onto his lap, your breasts now level with his face. He glances at the pretty lace bra you’re wearing and lowers the cups, exposing your nipples. He kisses each one tenderly before sucking on one and pinching the other. You melt into him, your hips grinding against his automatically, drawing a groan from deep within his chest.

"Do you know how hard it was to control myself when you grinded on my cock like this?" he murmurs against your skin, his voice thick with desire.

A wicked smile crosses your lips as you continue to grind against him, feeling his erection growing beneath you. "I could feel it, Chan," you purr, your voice dripping with seduction. "I could feel how much you wanted me. I wanted you just as badly."

His hands tighten on your hips, guiding your movements as he presses you harder against him. "God, Y/N, you drive me crazy," he groans, his eyes darkening with lust.

You lean in, your breath hot against his ear. "I want to feel you inside me, Chan. I want you to lose control. Show me how much you want me."

His control snaps, and he flips you onto your back, his body pressing you into the couch. "You don’t know what you’re asking for," he growls, his hand sliding down to unbutton your pants.

"I know exactly what I want," you whisper back, your eyes burning with the same desire. "I want you, all of you."

Chan's lips crash into yours again, more fiercely this time, as his hands work to remove the rest of your clothing.

In a blur of movement, clothes are discarded, and his skin is pressed against yours. He pauses to look into your eyes. "Tell me you want this," he demands, his voice rough with need.

"I want you, Chan," you breathe out, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer.

Chan giggles softly, his breath hot against your skin. "Wait for me to prepare you," he whispers, his voice laced with anticipation. He opens your legs wide, his eyes dark with desire as he lowers himself between your thighs. His lips find your wet folds, kissing them gently before his tongue delves deeper.

The sensation sends shivers through your body, and you let out a soft moan. Chan's mouth works expertly, sucking on your clit while his tongue teases and explores. As you gasp his name, "Channie," he responds with a moan of his own, the vibrations adding to your pleasure.

His hand slides up your thigh, and you feel the gentle pressure of his finger at your entrance. He slips it inside you slowly, his finger curling to find that perfect spot. Your back arches off the couch, your hands gripping the cushions as he continues to worship your body with his mouth and fingers.

"Oh, Chan," you breathe, your voice quivering with need. The way his tongue moves, the way his finger pumps in and out of you—it's all too much. Your hips begin to move on their own, seeking more of the intense pleasure he's giving you.

He adds another finger, stretching you gently, and your moans grow louder. His mouth never leaves your clit, sucking and flicking it with his tongue in a rhythm that drives you wild. You can feel your orgasm building, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter inside you.

Chan's free hand comes up to hold your hip, steadying you as you writhe beneath him. He looks up at you, his eyes full of lust and admiration, and the sight of him between your legs pushes you closer to the edge.

"Channie, I’m so close," you manage to say, your voice barely a whisper.

He doubles his efforts, his fingers moving faster, his mouth more insistent on your clit. The world fades away, and all you can focus on is the overwhelming pleasure building within you.

With a final, deep moan, you come undone. Your body trembles, your muscles clench around his fingers, and a powerful wave of ecstasy crashes over you. Chan doesn't stop, drawing out your orgasm until you're completely spent, every nerve ending tingling with satisfaction.

Finally, he pulls away, his fingers and mouth glistening with your arousal. He looks up at you with a triumphant smile, his own need evident in his eyes. "You taste so good," he murmurs, crawling up your body to capture your lips in a heated kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it only fuels the fire between you.

"Now," he says, positioning himself at your entrance, "I think you're ready."

You nod, wrapping your legs around his waist, and with one smooth thrust, he fills you completely.

Your pussy was wet enough, spasming, welcoming him perfectly. Chan's eyes were closed, his face contorting as he tried to compose himself. You reached up and gently held his face, and he opened his eyes, scoffing softly, trying to pretend he didn't almost cum right then and there from the sensation of your sopping cunt wrapping so perfectly around him and the pornographic moan that just left your mouth.

"Fuck, Y/N," he breathed, his voice thick with lust. "You feel so good."

You smiled, your own arousal mirrored in his gaze. "Don't hold back, Channie," you whispered, your fingers brushing through his hair. "I want all of you."

He groaned, his hips starting to move, slowly at first, savoring the way you clenched around him with each thrust. The intensity in his eyes made your heart race, the connection between you deepening with every movement.

"You're so tight," he murmured, his hands gripping your hips as he picked up the pace. "So perfect for me."

You bit your lip, your body responding to his every word, his every touch. "Chan," you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as he hit that sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. "Don't stop."

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he rolled his hips, stopping momentarily before hitting your g'spot with a sharp thrust. He repeated this motion, each thrust more deliberate, and the most sinful moans left your mouth. "Yes, Channie," you gasped, your voice trembling with pleasure, "fuck this pussy with that big fucking cock. Yes, yes!"

Chan groaned, the sound deep and guttural, spurred on by your words. "You like that? Hm?" he panted, his pace quickening as he watched the ecstasy play out on your face. "You like how I fuck you?"

"Yes," you moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders. "God, yes, I love it. I love how you fuck me– ah! Channie."

"So wet... all for me."

Your body arched beneath him, your hips moving to meet his thrusts, chasing the pleasure that was building to an overwhelming peak. "Only for you," you whispered, your voice breaking with a whimper as he drove you closer to the edge. "No one else, just you, Channie."

He growled, the possessiveness in your words igniting something primal in him. His thrusts became harder, faster, each one sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. "Say it again," he demanded, his breath hot against your ear. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours," you cried out, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. "I'm yours, Channie, only yours."

His hips snapped forward with even more intensity, and you could feel the coil tightening in your core, ready to snap. "Cum for me," he urged, his voice a low growl. "Cum all over my cock, baby."

Your pussy throbbed as the aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you, your eyes closing tightly, mouth falling open in a silent scream. You wrapped your legs around Chan's waist, locking him in place as you rode out every wave of pleasure. Chan hissed, his abdomen trembling, signaling that he was on the brink of release but unable to escape your grip.

You opened your eyes to find Chan watching you intently, taking in every reaction. "Sit," you commanded, your voice breathless yet authoritative.

"Hm?" Chan responded, his expression a mix of curiosity and lingering pleasure.

"Sit," you repeated, firmer this time. He complied, a small laugh escaping his lips.

"Are you going to dom me?" he teased, scoffing lightly.

Instead of answering, you simply lowered yourself onto his cock, making him flinch and let out a whiny moan in your ear, your legs trembling from the intensity of your recent orgasm.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hands gripping your hips.

You leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear. "You like that, Channie? You like when I take control?"

"Yes," he gasped, his breath hitching as you began to move, rolling your hips slowly at first. "God, yes."

You smirked, picking up the pace, each movement sending shivers of pleasure through both of you. "You look so good like this," you whispered, your voice low and sultry. "So desperate, so needy. You want to cum, don't you?"

"Yes," he admitted, his voice barely more than a whimper. "Please, let me cum."

You tightened your grip on his shoulders, riding him harder. "Not yet," you commanded, enjoying the power you held over him. "Not until I say so."

Chan's eyes fluttered closed, his body trembling as he tried to hold back. "Please," he begged, his voice raw with need. "I can't... I can't hold on much longer."

"Look at me," you ordered, your tone firm. His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours. "You’re going to cum when I tell you to, understand?"

"Yes," he panted, nodding eagerly. "Yes, I understand."

You imagined riding him since the moment he entered that club, young, hot, with his sleeves rolled up, the scent of masculine fragrance mingling with whiskey on his breath. Feeling this man, needy and sly, with his cock buried deep inside your pussy, spilling all that pre-cum, and fighting his demons not to cum, made you so horny.

You licked your fingers, circling your clit to help yourself climax, making you clench around him again. A strangled moan escaped his mouth, his eyes were rolling back.

You leaned in close, your voice husky with desire. "You're so close, Channie," you whispered, your breath hot against his ear. "I can feel how badly you want to cum inside me. Do it, baby. Give it to me. Fill me up with your cum."

Chan's hips bucked against yours, his grip on your hips tightening. "Fuck," he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. "I need to cum, please..."

You smirked, your fingers still working furiously on your clit. "You want to empty those balls for me, make me feel every drop of your cum inside me? Hm?"

Chan nodded frantically, his eyes glazed with lust. "Yes, god, yes. Please, let me cum. I can't hold on much longer."

With a wicked grin, you increased the pressure on your clit, feeling the tension building inside you. "Then cum for me, Channie," you urged, your voice a sultry whisper. "Cum deep inside my pussy."

Chan's entire body tensed, his breath hitching as he finally let go, his cum flooding you with warmth. You cried out in pleasure, feeling your own orgasm crashing over you in waves as you rode out the ecstasy together.

As you collapsed against his chest, Chan wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. You could feel your legs trembling in soreness, his cum still dripping from your pussy, and both of your bodies slick with sweat. Despite the exhaustion, Chan's embrace felt comforting and secure.

He ran his hands soothingly over your back, his touch gentle yet firm, as if trying to convey all his affection through his fingertips. You raised your head to meet his gaze, finding him looking back at you with a mixture of satisfaction and tenderness in his eyes.

You pressed a series of soft kisses to his lips, his cheeks, his jawline, savoring the warmth and intimacy of the moment. Chan smiled in response, his own lips curved upwards in a contented –fucked out– expression.

You summoned the last vestiges of your strength just to tease Chan, circling your hips ever so slightly, just enough to elicit a reaction from his sensitive body.

"Wait, wait," Chan gasped, his voice strained with sensitivity. "I can't... I can't take it."

He held you firmly against him, his grip almost desperate as he tried to steady himself. The sensation of your hips circling against his heightened his arousal to a point where he felt like he might lose control at any moment.

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. Despite the exhaustion and the intensity of your encounter, you found his vulnerability endearing.

"Sorry," you chuckled softly, the sound mingling with his labored breaths. "I couldn't resist teasing you a little."

Chan let out a breathless laugh, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to regain his composure. He leaned in to press a gentle kiss against your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment before he spoke again.

"You're... you're something else, you know that?" he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "I don't know how you do it."

You grinned up at him, feeling a surge of warmth at his words. Despite the intense physical connection between you, there was an undeniable emotional bond that had formed, deepening your connection even further.

"I guess I just have a way with you," you replied playfully, winking at him before snuggling closer into his embrace.

1K notes · View notes

number1jeonginstan · 10 months

Note

Hiii!! I saw you take requests! I was wondering if could request something.

Really sweet sex with Chan x fem! Reader. You go out to a fancy party he needs to be seen at. He helps you into your dress and zips it up for you, he applies your mascara. Once they get back from the party, he just wants to show his love, you know? Really sweet sex with chan where he’s super gentle and sweet. I don’t have any preferences for that other than that at some point, he eats us out.

Also, can I be 🌻 anon?

-🌻

A/N: You gave me too much liberty with this fic. Something about Chan in a suit just makes me wanna go feral! I made it so he cough proposes cough because what’s cuter than that? Nothing! Anyway, I had so much fun writing this, it’s my longest fic to date and I’m so proud of it so I hope you like it and it does you justice! It just makes me so happy when people enjoy my writing!

WC: 3.5k (I genuinely asked myself what the fuck I was on when I saw that I wrote over 7 pages… this is the longest thing I’ve ever written)

Minors don't interact, 18+

Pairing: Non!Idol Bangchan x Gf(to a little more?)afab!reader

Warning: Tooth rotting fluff, like I felt like my teeth were falling out while writing this because I tried making it hella cute! Unprotected sex (Is it really one of my stories if they don’t have an underlying breeding kink?)

“Hey babe, can you please help me zip this up?” you ran into your and Chan’s shared bedroom wearing a black tight-fighting sparkly dress. You guys were attending the Grammy’s where Chan was being nominated for best producer and songwriter. He was dressed head to toe in Givenchy, wearing a full black look. “Fuck baby, you look amazing,” he said while coming behind you and zipping your dress.

He kissed your shoulder, his face falling into the crook of your neck. “So do you,” you said, turning around to admire him. He had kept his hair natural, his curls framing his forehead. “I’m so proud of you!”

You kissed his lips, your lipstick slightly rubbing onto his, making his lips look red. “I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve achieved.” Chan had worked so hard to get to where he was in life and you would be stupid not to admit that. You know the time and effort he put into his work and you want him to see that what he has done has not been futile.

You wanted to see him up on that stage, receiving the award that he has been working the last 7 years for. His close friends, Jisung and Changbin, were also going to be there, rooting him on. “We should get going, we don’t want to be late to you winning that award” you gave him a grin.

“Babe, there are so many other more talented artists that are up for that award, I don’t think I’m going to win.” He groaned, following suit behind you, picking up your car keys from the counter.

You stopped him mid-in his tracks. “Are you fucking kidding me?” you turned him around, forcing him to face you. “You are so talented and need to stop looking down at yourself” You fixed his tie, “You are going to win and then when we get home I’m gonna give you a reward.” You walked away from him quickly, hearing him jog to catch up to you.

“And what would that reward be?” grabbing your waist as you were getting out of the door. “Now that is a surprise.”

You both finally got into his car, you in the passenger seat while his right hand gripped your thigh, the other on the wheel. It was a comfortable silence, while you zoned out, looking out the window, he occasionally looked at you. He grinned to himself, what would he do without you.

When you finally arrived at the show, you told him to walk the red carpet alone. “They don’t know who I am, but they need to know you, so please just go.” He wouldn’t budge, “I’m not going without you, I would rather turn around and go home. Jisung or Bin can represent me instead.”

You groaned out loud, “Why, this is your moment, you should do this by yourself.” He stopped you mid-sentence. “This is our moment, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, so we are going together or not at all. “Fine, let’s go together superstar” you giggled into his ear, eliciting a laugh from him.

You guys walked through the red carpet, cameras flashing all around you. You felt like you were going blind, but for Chan, it was second nature. Someone had called him over and he dragged you along with him.

“So Chris, tell us what you are dressed in. If I may say, you look quite dapper.” The reporter stated, causing Chan to laugh a bit. “My girlfriend and I” he wrapped his hand around your hip, pulling you closer to him “are both wearing Givenchy.”

“Wow, can I say, you both look beautiful, but now on to the serious question. How does it feel to be nominated for a Grammy?

“I feel great, I’m so thankful to all my fans for putting me in the position where I can make music that they enjoy. I am also thankful for my family, friends, and most of all my girlfriend for always being there for me, giving me constant support, and dealing with my constant all-nighters” he poked your cheek, “to help me get to where I am and do what I love.”

“Wow, well thank you so much for your time, I wish you the best of luck and I hope the two of you have an amazing night!”

You both waved the reporter goodbye, wishing her a good rest of her night. You both walked around a bit, meeting big names and saying hi. Looking around Chris could feel the effort he’s been putting in for the past few years.

The all-nighters, the never coming home, the days where he forgot dates with you or anniversaries. You stood beside him through all of it, you were the one that was constantly supporting him, and that’s why he wanted to surprise you when you got home tonight.

The ring he had bought to propose to you was burning a hole through his pocket. He prayed that you didn’t know, that it could be a surprise for when the two of you got home. He even got Changbin and Jisung in on it, convincing them to let him go home with you after in exchange for tickets to the after-party.

“Wow, it is beautiful in here,” you said, looking at the room in awe. Then you pointed out the stage, “look that’s where you are going to get your award” you giggled, kissing his cheek.

“How many times have we talked about this, I don’t know if I’m going to win or not” he groaned into your ear, the both of you walking to your designated seats, sitting down. “How many times have I told you not to think negatively? I believe you are going to win, so that’s good enough for me.”

He sighed next to you, you had no idea how lucky he was to find you. He would have been lost without you, aimlessly swimming in the sea, if it wasn’t for you, his rock. When the two of you first started dating, you always told him to achieve his dreams.

It was five months into your relationship, and you both were supposed to go on a date, but he was so wrapped up in work that he forgot about it. He also forgot basic necessities, like eating and sleeping, he was just too enamored with his work. You had ended up calling him and asking him where he was. He profusely apologized telling you that he had lost all track of time, that he would be right there, but you just told him to not worry about it.

What he didn't expect was that you were going to bring him a basket of food he liked to his studio. “I told you not to worry about it!” you giggled, bringing his favorite dish. “I know how hard you work, so please don’t worry about it. It’s okay if you forget sometimes, I don’t want to get in the way of you and your passion, as long as you make some time for me!”

That was the moment he knew he was in love with you. From then on, he tried to put a little less focus into his music, and some into you. He loved that after work, you would come to the studio with him, listen to his demos, and give input. His last relationship was nothing like this. He was constantly busy and the girl ended up cheating on him, making it hard for him to trust others again, but when it came to you, everything came naturally.

It wasn’t just him that loved you, it was the artist he worked with. Jisung and Changbin also loved you, constantly asking to hang around with you. You were perfect for him, and he never wanted to let you go.

“Are you excited, your category is next!” He had lost all track of time, just thinking about you. He just smiled, he wanted to win, but he also knew that if he didn’t he still had you. You would never amount his success to the numbers or awards he won, but the effort he put into his work. He just looked at you with his signature smile. “Yeah, I hope I win.”

That was the first time he ever said anything like that and you beamed a smile at him. “I know you will” you whispered into his ear. As the commercial break was going on before the next award was presented, he took a sip of your champagne, trying to cool down his own nerves. You looked at him in shock, Chan barely ever drank. “Something to help with the nerves,” he told you and you just nodded.

The infomercials had finally ended and they were about to announce the winner of the best producer of the year. You took Chan’s hand in yours in anticipation, “And the winner is… drum roll please” Your grip around his hand tightened “Christopher Bahng!”

His face was one of shock, he was bewildered seeing the camera on him. You just smiled at him, clapping. He quickly got up and walked to the stage. The hostess passed him a mic while he stood with the Grammy in his hand.

“Ummm, wow I was not expecting this at all” the room laughed, “I want to keep this short and sweet, but I don’t think I can. I truly appreciate everyone who has been with me since the beginning, it warms my heart knowing that so many people enjoy the music I make and I am appreciative to my close friends Changbin and Han who helped me make my music”

You heard them shout behind you, while people stared in their direction. “I want to thank my family and especially my girlfriend especially because without them I don’t think I would have made it this far. I am entirely grateful for all the support, and please look out for new music. Thank you once again!”

Everyone cheered as he got off the stage and you ran up to him, giving him a bear hug. “I told you, I know everything, I knew you would win.” Before you could even finish your sentence, he kissed your lips. “Thank you, for everything, truly, I love you so much,” he said, kissing your lips again. “I love you too.”

After the show was over, you were prepared to go to the after-party, but as you got into the car, you saw the map showing your address. “Channie, don’t you want to go celebrate?” you asked, a bit puzzled. “I do, and I want to celebrate with you, in the comfort of our home.”

You just sighed, confused by his decision, but happy that he was going to get some rest at home. The drive back was just as silent, you falling asleep, face pressed to the window. You were tired from the entire day and were glad to get some rest, Chan was also glad because he knew the night you both had in store.

When you both got home, you were about to open your side when Chris stopped you. “Nuh uh” he said, wiggling his finger causing a giggle from your lips. He walked around, opening your side of the car. “Wow, I really am a passenger princess aren’t I?”

“You don’t even know the most of it.”

Before your feet could even touch the ground, he picked you up, carrying you bridal style to the door. As you got inside, he told you to enter, he had to get something from the car. You just nodded, taking off your shoes at the front entrance, and turning on the light to your apartment.

You saw an entire row of pedals on the floor, covering every inch. You walked in still confused, seeing your living room covered with pictures of you and Chan, memories from your dates, even the napkin from your first date when you accidentally dropped coffee on his lap, profusely apologizing. “Channie, what’s going on?”

You turned around to see him on one knee in front of you. “I didn’t expect to be giving two speeches today, but this one is more important than the one I gave earlier in the night. You have been here through thick and thin, you stayed up just to see me and give me a kiss some nights. You sat with me when I got the flu, you make me feel like I’m the only man in the world. That day when you brought food to my studio, I knew I was in love with you. You are the only person in this universe for me. Will you please make me the happiest man on this planet, and marry me?”

You began to sob in front of him, “Is that a yes or a no? Because I had to bribe Felix to do this for me, and that was hard, I had to buy him a brand new CPU and GPU.” Before he continued to ramble on, you grabbed him, brought him back to his feet, and kissed him. “Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes.”

He grinned into your kiss, placing the ring on your finger. “Christopher Chan Bhang, this is way too big, how much did this cost?” You looked at the ring placed on your finger, it was huge. “Not much for a Grammy award winner like me” he giggled, picking you up and spinning around. “Now please, let me show you how much you mean to me.”

You simply nodded, allowing him to take you to your shared bedroom. “Though I think you look absolutely stunning in this dress, let me take it off you?” You simply nodded, allowing him to undo the zipper, slowly pulling the dress off you. You covered your tits with your arms, the dress having padding, making it so you didn’t have to wear a bra. You were just in your panties.

“Fuck baby, you always look so beautiful,” he said, causing you to look at him shyly. No matter how many times you both have slept together, you always felt like it was the first time. He was so attentive, loving every inch of your body like you were heaven on earth. He placed a kiss to your lips, laying you on the bed.

You tried to undo his pants as he took off his tux jacket, but he stopped you. “Tonight is about you princess okay? Be a good girl and let me take care of you.” You just nodded, wanting to speak up, but not wanting to stop him.

“Fuck princess, you look so good. Always look so good for me, look at you.” He dragged his hands against your thighs, kissing you as he brought a hand to your nipple, playing with it. You moaned as he began to rub against it. “Fuck, always so vocal for me.”

He placed another kiss on your lips before he went down, slowly opening your thighs with his hands. “Just want to taste you, baby”

He began to kiss your thighs, making you squirm underneath him. His kisses were wet and hot, but they felt amazing. He slowly worked himself to the place you needed him most. He placed a kiss on your covered cunt, taking his hand and hooking it to your underwear, slowly bringing it down your legs.

You could feel the cool air on your pussy, causing you to moan. Before you could even react fully, he licked a strip on your folds, making you moan. “Fuck baby, you just keep tasting better and better, can’t get enough of your delicious cunt.”

He began to dive into your pussy like a man starved, placing a finger on your clit while he worked in and out of your hole. You moaned and brought your hand to his hair. “Want you to sit on my face, can you do that baby?” You nodded, you had never done it before scared that you were somehow going to hurt him, but he looked at you with his pleading eyes.

You couldn’t say no to him, it looked like he wanted to do it more than you. You got up, allowing him to lay down underneath you. He rid himself of his clothes first, the only piece of clothing on his body being his boxers. You placed your hands on the headboard as he lay underneath you, grabbing your things with his hands.

“I have a pretty big nose you know, and it’s perfect for this.” Before you could even giggle at what he said, he began to eat your cunt out. His nose was rubbing against your clit, causing you to moan out his name.

“Fuck, so good Channie, so good, you feel so good.” He moaned in response, the vibrations being sent through your hole and to your core. His tongue was hitting that spot inside of you, making you feel wonders. You didn’t think you could stay up any longer. “Feels good baby?” He spoke into you, causing you to moan even louder. “So good, can’t control myself”

“It’s okay baby, get off on my face, cum all over it baby please.” You moaned, he took one of his fingers, adding extra stimulation to your clit, causing you to cum all over his face. He kept going, over-stimulating you. “Fuck baby, you taste so good, can’t wait to taste you for the rest of our lives.

“Please Channie, need you, need your cock inside of me.” That was all Chan needed to flip you around. You were underneath him and you could still see your cum dripping off his face. He kissed you, his tongue entering your mouth, allowing you to taste your arousal on him. “Baby, I’m so excited for you to take my cock.”

He took off his boxers, and let his dick slap his stomach. Chan’s size never seemed to surprise you, he was so big, but it was perfect. His cock was perfect for you, always hitting the specific spots inside you. “Give me a second baby, let me go get a condom”

You stopped him, “Want it in me raw this time” You looked at him with your doe eyes. If looks could kill, Chan would be dead right now. He felt like he ascended to heaven right there and then. “Fuck baby, gonna fuck you so well then. You weren’t joking when you said you had a surprise for me.”

He slowly entered his cock inside you, making the both of you moan at the same time. “Fuck princess, this pussy takes me so well, I’m so glad that this is going to be mine forever.”

His cock was finally fully in you, he slowly began to fuck into you, already hitting that spongey part inside of you causing you to moan his name. “Fuck, so good Channie, you feel so good.”

He kissed your lips again, you both weren’t fucking, you were making love. He started thrusting inside you faster as you wrapped your legs around him. It was your signal to him that you wanted more, that you wanted to be drilled into the bed, and that’s exactly what he did.

You were both moaning, your pussy clenching around him and his cock throbbing inside of you. You both were close, your moans becoming more and more as his grunts became louder. “Want to cum with you okay princess” you just nodded, “want you to cum in me Chris”

That was exactly what you both needed to cum over the edge. His cock came inside of you, your walls covered in his cum as your walls milked him dry. The both of you lay like this for what felt like hours until he spoke up. “Let me clean you up”

You allowed him to, he picked you up after he drew a bath for the both of you.

“What was that surprise you wanted to give me?” he asked as you guys finally got back into bed. “You will find out in the morning,” you said kissing his lips before the both of you fell asleep in each other’s arms.

You woke up to hear screaming outside your room. “There is a puppy at our door!” you heard him shout from your shared bedroom. He ran into the room. “This was the surprise?” he grinned, his smile spread from ear to ear. “We have to start our family some way?” you said. He stared at the dog in awe, petting behind his ears.

“What should I name you, huh?” he said in a baby voice. “I’m thinking wolfie, he kind of looks like a wolf, and you. That’s why I got him.”

He came over, pecking kisses all over your face. “I love you y/n”

“I love you too Chris”

taglist: @sclassstay @minhosify @brooklynie

#skz #stray kids #straykids x reader #skz smut #skz x reader #straykids smut #ju <3 answers #ju <3 thoughts #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bangchan smut #bangchan #bang chan #chan smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #ju <3 writes #ju's <3 anons

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perfectsunlight · 2 months

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[10] FAMILY

warnings: mentions of absent parents, crying, lonliness

le sserafim’s success was unimaginable. with every passing day, their popularity grew, and the love from their fans seemed endless. the group often shared moments of joy and celebration, especially after significant achievements. usually it was going out to eat, and after one particular weekend, it was decided that their parents would join them.

it was after winning another award that the girls decided to just drag everyone to the nearest korean barbecue place. the room was filled with laughter and animated conversations as eunchae, sakura, chaewon, yunjin, and kazuha each celebrated with their parents. the atmosphere was warm and festive, with everyone savoring the delicious food and the joy of being together.

ivory’s hands busied themselves with arranging the side dishes and making sure everyone was getting a piece of everything. she moved from one end of the table to the other, refilling glasses and passing around bowls of kimchi and other banchan. of course, everyone helped, but she was determined to stay occupied, to keep herself from dwelling too much on the empty feeling inside.

the sound of laughter filled the room as eunchae’s father cracked a joke, making everyone around him burst into fits of giggles. sakura’s mother was busy telling a funny story from her childhood, and chaewon’s mother was sharing anecdotes from her own life. yunjin’s family was recounting their favorite memories of her performances, and kazuha’s parents were praising their daughter’s hard work and dedication.

cat-like eyes watched these interactions with a mixture of happiness and emptiness. she loved seeing her friends surrounded by love and support, but it also reminded her of what she was missing.

the young girl wondered what it was like to have parents. was it like the movies, with warm hugs and words of encouragement? was it the way her friends’ parents looked at them, with pride and unconditional love?

she could only ever imagine.

jane glanced around the room, her eyes briefly meeting those of eunchae, who gave her an encouraging smile. her best friend’s smile was genuine and warm, and it reminded ivory that she wasn’t entirely alone.

eunchae was always like a sister to her, and that was the closest thing she’d ever had to a family. sure, she had her grandmother, but it wasn’t the same as having parents who were there for her every day. her grandmother loved her dearly, but the generational gap sometimes made it hard for them to fully understand each other. but at least she had someone, right? on top of that, her members were her family now, and they cared for her deeply.

however, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have her parents there, to share in the celebration of her successes.

even though she wasn’t on good terms with her mother, she still wished jennie was there.

as the dinner went on, ivory found herself drifting further into her thoughts. the voices around her seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the echoes of her own memories and longings. she remembered the nights she spent alone, dreaming of a family that was whole and complete.

she couldn’t stop thinking about the times she had wished for someone to hold her and tell her that everything would be okay. it was something she’d hate to admit, especially out loud, but she missed her mother terribly.

ivory thought about the moments they did share, the rare times when jennie’s priorities would shift and she’d show a glimpse of the loving mother she could be. the idol wondered if her mother was proud of her. did she ever think about her achievements? did she ever watch any of her performances and feel a surge of pride?

then again, she wasn’t sure. the distance between them was more than just physical; it was emotional, complicated and filled with misunderstandings and missed opportunities.

in all 18 years of jane’s life, the relationship with her mother seemed to only worsen as she got older.

suddenly, she felt a gentle hand on her arm. she looked up to see yunjin standing beside her, concern etched on her face. “hey, are you okay?” the american asked softly. cat-like eyes shifted to the older girl and she forced a smile. “i’m okay, just a bit tired.”

eventually, everyone wrapped dinner up, and everyone made their way back to the dorms while their families went to their hotels. on the drive back to their dorm, all ivory could do was stare out the window, her thoughts a whirlwind of unresolved emotions. the city lights blurred past, and the warmth and joy of the dinner felt like a distant memory.

inside the car, the other members chatted and laughed, their voices creating a contrast with the silence that seemed to envelop the young girl. she forced a smile and engaged in the conversation, but her mind kept drifting back to her own familial situation.

but she couldn't shake the image of eunchae’s parents, the warmth of sakura’s family, or the pride in chaewon’s and yunjin’s parents' eyes. each memory was a sharp reminder of what she was missing.

the urge to reach out, even just to hear her mother’s voice, despite everything, was overpowering.

once they were back, jane slipped into the room she shared with eunchae, quietly closing the door behind her. her best friend was going to shower, leaving her alone for a few minutes.

she sat on the edge of her bed and stared at her phone, her finger hovering over the keypad. her emotions were a tangled mess, but she knew she needed to try. taking a deep breath, she dialed her mother’s number.

even though she didn’t have jennie saved as a contact, she did have her mother’s number memorized.

the phone rang several times before the call was answered. jane’s heart pounded as she heard her mother’s voice on the other end, though it was faint and distant.

“valentine?”

jane hesitated for a moment, feeling a lump in her throat at the sudden sound of her mother’s voice. quickly, trying to steady her voice, she responded.

“hi.”

a lot of commotion was heard on the other end of the line, the noise of what sounded like a busy environment. her mother’s voice was strained and apologetic.

“hey, the show is about to start. can i call you back later?” her mother said, her tone laced with genuine regret.

jane’s heart sank, all she wanted was just five minutes with jennie. but as usual, it seemed as if that was simply impossible.

“i—”

her mother cut her off gently right before the sound of applause was heard over the other line. her voice hushed quickly, her voice sounding closer to the phone.

“i’m sorry, i really can’t talk right now. i’m in paris right now but i promise i’ll call you back as soon as i can.”

before ivory could protest further, the line went dead. she stared at her phone, feeling a familiar sting of disappointment. it wasn’t that her mother didn’t want to talk; she was simply overwhelmed with responsibilities. it was something she was used to, yet, the feeling of being set aside left jane feeling isolated and unimportant.

her shoulders began to shake as she tried to hold back the tears, but they came anyway, spilling down her cheeks uncontrollably. the sense of loneliness and sadness was overwhelming, especially during a time when she desperately wanted to have a conversation with her mother.

she sank onto her bed, hugging her knees to her chest, and let herself cry for the first time in years.

the tears seemed to flow freely, each sob a release of the pent-up emotions she had been trying so hard to keep in check. all she ever wanted was her mother, and even at some points, her own father. yet, the reality was a void where familial support and love should have been.

the sound of the door opening surprised her, quickly catching her off guard. she couldn’t hide her tears, even when she started wiping her eyes with her sleeves.

“ivory?” chaewon called out, concern evident in her tone. jane had her back to the entrance, her throat tight from crying. she made no move to turn around, feeling a fresh wave of tears start to pool in her eyes.

the vulnerability she felt was raw, and she didn’t want to face anyone just yet.

especially not her leader.

the older girl’s footsteps were soft as she approached, her concern even more evident in her gentle tone. ivory was like a little sister to her, and at some points, she even saw the girl as a daughter figure.

“are you okay?”

ivory could barely manage a nod, her throat tight and her sobs stifled. she felt a hand on her shoulder, a gentle squeeze that almost sent her sobbing again.

“it’s okay to cry,” chaewon said quietly, sitting down beside her. “whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay to let it out.”

ivory’s shoulders shook as she tried to regain her composure, but her emotions seemed to have a life of their own. she completely broke down once the older girl pulled her into a hug. the warmth and comfort of chaewon’s embrace were both soothing and heartbreaking.

the leader’s heart ached at the sight of ivory breaking down. she let the girl cry for a while until chaewon finally pulled back slightly, her eyes full of concern.

“what happened, sweetheart?”

ivory took a shuddering breath, struggling to find the words. she took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. after she managed to settle down a little bit, she finally allowed herself to justs breathe for a bit. finally, her voice came out in a whisper, hoarse from all the crying, but still understandable.

“i just miss my mom.”

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TAGLIST ⸺ ✶ @silantryoo @imahallucination11 @jisooftme @yerimbrit @linnnsworld @edeivveiss @urmom2314 @aespasoooool @mygfiswonyoung @yeetaberry127 @@sixflame438 @yourmyst4r @shegoswhoree @saysirhc @hwm1hyun @literallybipanic @yejiscene @gayforalll @yvsvrn @bunnywonyo @karifrogs @thefckghost @yoontoonwhs @pandafuriosa60 @somedaydream @hotluvlet @pagedpick7 @lizseos @cy8erpunkz @keiji-jin @lizseos @xszn @awkwardtoafault @hellokiraa @chicopichu @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite @lesbian4themis @literallybipanic

OPEN! COMMENT BELOW THE MASTERLIST TO BE ADDED

#jennie kim #blackpink #lesserafim #angst #kpop angst #original series #jisoo kim #roseanne park #lalisa manoban #kim chaewon #ivory #perfectsunlight

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dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months

Text

Used to be Young || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x singer!reader Summary: Being the life of the party isn't all it's cracked up to be but you manage to turn over a new leaf and start afresh after being dumped by your first love. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, mentions of drugs and alcohol, angst, hurt/comfort WC: 2.5k

A few years earlier… You barely registered the words coming out of Charles’ mouth, the arrogance of youth numbing you to what you were about to lose. You had a career that had exploded overnight, an album in the top charts, more money than you knew what to do with. How could you lose anything after everything you had achieved? You were invincible.

“It’s over, I can’t do this anymore,” Charles repeated over the loud music filling the open bar. He cast his eyes over you from the skimpy dress that left little to the imagination to your red eyes from the joint you had shared with your back up dancers. “I don’t even recognise you.”

“Where are you going?” You grabbed his hand and pulled him to a stop as you pressed your lips to his cheek. You kissed your way across his jaw before nipping his ear and laughing. “We’re just having fun! Lighten up, Charles.”

“No, you’re having fun,” he said as he peeled your fingers off his shirt. “If you want to go wild, then go wild, but I’m not going to stick around to watch this shit.”

You let him go. You watched him leave as the healing skin behind your ear began to itch with your latest tattoo. You turned away before the crowd swallowed him whole, your fingers already reaching for another shot of liquor.

Winter Break - Music Award Show Charles would recognise your voice anywhere, no matter how much time passed he could still locate it in a crowd. It was as if the frequency of your voice was one he was attuned to and it called to him when he was meant to be focusing on the interviewer before him.

It had been a year since you last toured, a year since you last released a song. Charles knew, because he still listened to your albums and watched every music video- much like how you still followed his Formula 1 career. He waited for any news about you, but the last year had been silent. Your social media was deleted, paparazzi photos few and far between but what he had seen had made his heart ache. You had changed, no longer the carefree spirit he fell in love with in a whirlwind romance swimming in alcohol and snapshot decisions.

Charles couldn’t help but wonder what you had been doing in your absence. Had you met someone like he had? Had you fallen in love and then fallen out of love like he had? He wanted to know if you were happy.

Charles was in a daze as he took his seat. His invitation to the award show had come thanks to the rising popularity of his sport mixed with his music and he scanned the crowd hoping to catch a glimpse of you. He knew you were there, he knew it with every fibre of his being, he just needed to see you.

The lights dimmed and goosebumps prickled beneath the suit he wore as your voice caressed his ear. He could have sworn you were sitting behind him, serenading him and only him, but there you were - right where you belonged.

The truth is bulletproof, there's no foolin' you I don't dress the same Me and who you say I was yesterday Have gone our separate ways

Charles could barely breathe as the soft lighting warmed your skin, setting you in a glow that was somehow both powerful and ethereal. There was no need for any theatrics when your voice was emotive enough to outperform any dancers or pyrotechnics. All you needed was a stage and a microphone.

Left my livin' fast somewhere in the past 'Cause that's for racin' cars Turns out open bars lead to broken hearts And goin' way too far

Your eyes were closed, brows pinched, as if the memory of that night hurt even now. The huge screens around the room were filled with the image and Charles swallowed the lump in his throat as regret filled him for his role in it all.

I know I used to be crazy I know I used to be fun You say I used to be wild I say I used to be young

Charles closed his eyes as they began to burn, but still your voice infiltrated his soul and reverberated with the truth.

You tell me time has done changed me That's fine, I've had a good run I know I used to be crazy That's 'causе I used to be young

Charles forced himself to watch the stranger he loved flourish before his eyes. He had seen you grow from a teenager into a young adult, thinking the flower that blossomed was the final product. Like the dandelions you had blown to the breeze and wished upon with him years ago, you had shed the petals of immaturity and become a woman commanding the wind to carry her higher.

You hated how the spotlight burned your skin and you told yourself it was the lamp that made your eyes water as you screwed them shut.

The words you had penned on the back of a scrap of paper had come to you on a Sunday afternoon. You weren’t the religious type, but Sunday was a holy day in your house and your worship began at lights out. Words had failed you when the partying stopped. You wondered who you were without the late nights and endless faces that enabled you to lose your values, your friends, your love. You thought your music had died with your younger self.

But on that Sunday, something had changed. On that Sunday, you saw a man at his lowest and heard the heartache in his voice. On that Sunday, you watched a man carry more burden than any shoulders could bear and somehow, somehow, he smiled. Thousands of miles away in Brazil, Charles had taught you a lesson in letting go, of hope and resilience and maturity.

The words had come easily after that.

Take onе, pour it out, it's not worth cryin' 'bout The things you can't erase Like tattoos and regrets, words I never meant And ones that got away

You didn’t plan to open your eyes until the song was over, you didn’t want to see what the audience thought of the performance that was so unlike how you used to sound, but you did it anyway. The spotlight blinded you for a moment before your eyes adjusted and time seemed to freeze when you found Charles staring back.

Time had changed him too, his jawline had sharpened and the suit fitted his filled out body so much better than they ever did. A pair of glasses rested on the bridge of his nose and changed his entire face so that he could never be mistaken as anything but a man who was comfortable in his own skin.

He used to say you completed him but now you knew you had only filled the piece of his heart that was missing after his father died. You couldn’t complete a boy who was still growing into a man, it was impossible when you were both too young to know what complete even meant. Complete didn’t mean whole, it was just the acceptance of who you are and forgiving who you were.

You weren’t in some grandiose ballgown or shock-inspiring barely-there outfit, you wore what you felt comfortable in. Charles smiled, his dimple appearing as you slipped the microphone from the stand and walked to the edge of the stage. His eyes never left yours as you took a seat facing him and swung your feet in the open air, returning the smile.

I know I used to be crazy Messed up, but, God, was it fun I know I used to be wild That's 'cause I used to be young

You may have been the one singing but you heard him loud and clear when his hand rose up above his head.

Those wasted nights are not wasted I remember every one I know I used to be crazy That's 'cause I used to be young

You heard him loud and clear when he made no move to wipe the tears on his cheeks.

You tell me time has done changed me That's fine, I've had a good run I know I used to be crazy That's 'cause I used to be young

There were no words that passed between you as you left the stage, but when he rose to his feet you heard him loud and clear.

The loud knock on your door echoed around the temporary dressing room but the voice that followed was softer. Your fingers rested on the door handle until you took a deep breath and turned it. The air left your lungs as you were struck by the image of him standing in your doorway, one hand in his trouser pocket, the other in his hair as he wondered if he was making a mistake.

Up close, he looked even more handsome but it was his cologne that took you deep into the past. The intensity of the CK bottle used to be overpowering on the senses when he would douse himself in the stuff, but now he wore a complex, rich scent that invited you to lean closer and inhale. His finer tastes had matured along with the rest of him.

“Hey,” he said as he looked into your room, taking in the details from the water bottles to the ambient sounds you relaxed to. A smile transformed his face and he stepped inside when you opened the door wider in invitation. “Is this my music?”

“It helps me to relax,” you admitted as you closed the door behind him.

“Your song is…” he shook his head as he trailed off, like he was struggling to articulate what he wanted to say and he had to settle for something less because he couldn’t quite grasp the word, “beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You smiled shyly at your feet and fiddled with your hair that had been styled up for the red carpet walk.

Charles’ eyes followed your hand and widened before he grabbed it. The warmth of his skin on yours was something you had never been able to replicate, there was no man or woman whose touch could come close to his. You knew because you had tried and tried before resigning yourself the hard fact that you had lost the best thing you had.

“Is that…my number?” His fingertips turned your head to see the tattoo tucked behind your ear.

You laughed as you remembered how you were going to surprise him once it healed, but he had already gone by then. “Yeah, it is. And I don’t regret it, before you ask.”

“I’m glad.” The corners of his lips curled up as he dropped his hand back to his side. “I have so many questions, but I think they would take all night. How have you…what have you…god, I don’t even know where to start.”

“As it happens, I have no plans,” you said as you took a seat on the couch and patted the space beside you.

“No after party?”

You shook your head as he sat down and you grabbed your bottle of water from the coffee table. “That’s not my scene anymore.”

Charles draped his arm across the couch as he tucked one leg up and settled so he could face you. “What were you going to do after the show tonight then?”

“Honestly?” You chuckled at the question and picked at the label on the bottle. “I was going to go home, order a pizza and watch the new season of Drive to Survive.”

Charles bit his lip as he tried not to laugh. “Really?”

“Don’t laugh,” you feigned annoyance as you slapped his hand. “I’m missing the races so it will have to do until next month. Are you excited?”

He caught your hand before you could take it back and he traced his fingers over the splatterings of new tattoos you had collected throughout the years. “Hmm, I’m optimistic.”

“Always were,” you murmured as you let your hand relax in his. “But what about the car?”

“Why don’t you come to testing and find out?” He seemed to come to his senses as he dropped your hand. “You’re probably busy and we’re practically strangers now. Shit, you probably have a boyfriend. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Charles, shut up,” you laughed as you caught his face in your palms and felt the texture of the short beard he now sported. “I know you too well that we could never really be strangers.”

“We’ve both changed.” His head lowered into your hands and you watched his green eyes search your face for the wild child he used to know.

“We’ve grown up, there’s a difference.”

His breath whispered across your wrists as he looked down at the distance closing between your bodies. “So do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Have a boyfriend.”

You smiled sadly. “I could never have a boyfriend. It wouldn’t be fair when my heart always belonged to someone else.”

Charles started to lean towards you, his eyes on your lips as if he could already taste him, but you pulled away. Hurt flashed in those eyes and you wanted to erase it immediately, it took every ounce of control you had not to pull him back into a kiss.

“We’re not strangers, Charles,” you said softly as you took his hand and tried to get him to look at you again, “but we aren’t those people any more.”

“Okay,” he nodded as he understood what went unsaid, “then we’ll get to know each other again. When did you become the sensible one?”

“After my stupidity cost me you, I suppose.”

The rest of the award show didn’t hold any interest after the conversation in your dressing room so you had both disappeared. The evening had been mild with the worst of the winter weather already passing, so you had enjoyed the quieter streets that had been closed for the night. Charles had kept you company and you both went unrecognised as you walked arm in arm to the pizzeria you promised was the best around. For a man who worked a lot of the time in Italy that was going to be tested when you got home.

It was midnight by the time you reached your apartment, the tower clock across the street tolling for the start of a new day. You would look back on that moment and realise it was then that the slate was cleaned. Whatever conversations that happened or didn’t happen were obsolete, whatever mistakes made before that moment were gone.

In the early hours on a Sunday of all days, you stepped inside your home with Charles at your side. Neither of you knew what the future held but by the same token neither of you were ready for this to be the end. After all, this was a new beginning.

#charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 rpf

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totaly-obsessed · 1 year

Text

Money, Money, Money

Alessia Russo x reader

-> Reader has a mental breakdown after discovering how expensive Alessia's outfit was

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

As every year the ‘Pride of Britain Awards’ were held in London – and just like last year the lionesses were invited to hand an award to one of the winners. The candidates were nominated by the public from all walks of life, of all ages, and from all over the country. Their achievements are awe-inspiring and a lesson to everyone. And just like last year, your girlfriend Alessia was one of the Lionesses that would be going.

You knew that she had been out shopping with Leah and Jen a couple of times, but you always excused yourself with having lessons to prepare or actually being in school teaching – in reality, you just wanted the blonde to have time with her new teammates.

Every time she came back smiling like a lunatic but upon asking her what she had bought, you always received a teasing kiss and a “You’ll see amore.”

And see you did. Alessia waited for you to say something – body jittering with anticipation of your opinion. She knew that you would like it, but seeing you stare at her with wide eyes and an open mouth was so much better than expected. “You’re drooling, love.”

While Lessi was usually the gullible one. It was you wiping away phantom drool – your girlfriend laughing at you. “Baby you look… Wow!”

Happy with her achievement the footballer pulled you up from your desk chair. “You are so tall Less!” While your girlfriend was already tall, her heels let her tower over you even more. “Mhmm, you like it, amore?” The cheeky girl knew exactly how much you liked the size difference between the two of you – so instead of answering her, you kissed the blonde with passion.

She truly looked incredible in her bright red dress (that was quite short really) with stunning heels – her face still bare. “Do you really need to go Less?” The Italian knew that you wanted her to go despite your whining. You had been freaking out when she had told you about it – but right now? There was nothing else you would rather do than let the blonde kiss you crazy as she was usually doing.

“I need to go baby.” With hunched shoulders she pressed another kiss to your lips, parting way too soon. Baffled you stood there in the middle of the shared living room, Alessia grabbing her purse before speed walking back to you like a damn model.

“One for the road.” Kissing you again, before walking out of the house to get to her Makeup artist.

And while you really liked to use your work as an excuse, tonight you really did have lessons to plan – much to your annoyance. Sure you were an adult, but that didn’t mean, that you wouldn’t scour the internet for anything about Less at the Award show – and the pictures were stunning.

Seeing her on stage, next to little Ravi Adelekan who won ‘Child of Courage’ for setting up an incredible charity in aid of The Brain Tumour Charity and braintrust after undergoing surgery for his tumor, made you quite emotional. Kids were always very dear to your heart, after all, you did become a school teacher.

Having long abandoned your actual plans, you kept on looking at pictures of the award show, reading about all of those memorable people there, when a picture popped up on your Instagram. It was a picture of your girlfriend, stunning as always, but next to her were pictures of her clothing, someone having found out how much it cost and where to find it, if anyone wanted to buy something.

A dress for 700 euros was bad enough, but heels for a little more than 1,000 euros? That was just excessive, the little red bag for 2,000 euros, didn’t make it better in the slightest.

You knew, that Alessia and you came from very different backgrounds, her dad had been in the police, earning good money – her mother and brothers also being well paid. The blonde started making a pretty buck at quite a young age. You, however, came from a low-income family.

Less maybe didn’t notice the difference, but you certainly did.

No food in the fridge? Instant panic! You couldn’t go hungry again, you just couldn’t. There always had to be some food at home.

Eating out? Scary enough for you, always choosing the least expensive option on the menu – but ordering a glass of expensive wine? Panic! What if you needed the money suddenly?

It was safe to say that seeing these prices for things your girlfriend would wear once and never again sent you into a spiral.

Alessia came home in the early hours of the morning, expecting to join you in bed. Instead, she found you at the dining table, bent over stacks of papers and calculations – immediately she knew that something was wrong.

You hated math.

You didn’t teach math.

So what was going on here?

As gently as she could she laid her hands on top of your shoulders, scaring you just enough to make you knock over your (thankfully closed) water bottle. “What’s all this amore?” Seeing your tear-stained face broke the footballer's heart, her mind set on making things better.

“You’re back Less!” It was adorable, your pretty little face lightening up upon seeing the stunning blonde in her pretty red dress that caused you so much trouble. But your red puffy eyes reminded her that something was up with you.

After laying a gentle kiss on your burning forehead, she pulled out the chair next to you. Warm, big hands enveloped your own, stopping you from tugging at your skin. “Baby?” And then it was like a damn broke, everything just spilling out of you.

“Okay, so I calculated everything! And if I take on a few more afternoon supervision classes, and take fewer breaks – with rent and food we might be able to cover everything in two or three months!”

The blonde was confused. What would you try to cover? But upon seeing her face, poor you thought that she was unhappy that it would take so long “Or, we could just use up all the food that we have here, that gives us a little extra and we could get done faster!”

You were in hysterics. Face all scrunched up, desperately looking for ideas, your entire body heated up. “Amore what are you talking abo-“

“Or! I could get a second job on top, so we could finish paying everything off this month. I saw that the bakery down the street is looking for new employees.”

Alessia let go of your hands, instead taking your water bottle and bringing it to your mouth – desperate to calm you down without making you panic. While this is a strange position to be in, it helped. Like a baby getting fed, you calmed down – but then came the tears.

“Amore, I can’t help you if I don’t understand what is wrong. What are you trying to pay off?” Her warm hands wiped away tear after tear, waiting for your desperate hiccups to end. So badly she wanted to pull you on her lap, into one of her famous hugs but she feared that you would fall asleep before figuring out the problem.

Now you felt like you had calmed down enough, giving the blonde a firm nod. “What are you trying to pay off baby?”

The footballer didn’t know what she was expecting but “Your dress, shoes and bag.” certainly wasn’t it. She pressed a gentle kiss onto the back of your hand “Why would you pay for them, baby?”

“Well they were expensive and we need to have the money ready when the bill comes for them.” Slowly but surely Alessia was understanding what was going on.

“Baby you don’t need to pay for them. They are already paid for.” If the situation hadn’t been so serious, she would have surely laughed at the way that your facial expression shifted. “What’d ya mean?”

“I mean that I have already paid for the dress, the shoes, and even the bag in store. Even if not, you would never need to pay them for me, amore.” It was like a heavy weight had fallen off your chest.

“So- so there will be no bill?” Alessia’s head shake nearly sends you into another breakdown, but the little shapes she drew on your wrist with her fingers certainly helped you calm down again.

“Why did you think that you needed to be the one paying baby?” Curious, big blue eyes practically burned into the side of your head.

You were ashamed.

Seeing the expensive price tags had thrown you back to your teenage years. “When I was younger my mum used to just buy things that we couldn’t afford. And when the bills came she made figure out how I could pay for it.” Alessia teared up.

She knew that you didn’t have the best life, but she never pressured you into telling her. “Why didn’t your mum work for it then?”

“She never worked, dad didn’t want her to. He was too proud to admit that he couldn’t carry the weight of the family.” Alessia now held your face in between her hands, gently caressing your cheeks.

“Listen to me amore.” The Italian, again, took note of how hot your face was. It appeared that you had worked yourself up to a point of sickness, breaking your girlfriend's heart even more. “What your mum made you do is horrible – and it will never happen again. Okay? Not with me. We have a stable income – you have a good job, and I can pay for the house and both cars, okay? You don’t even need to work in my eyes.”

She saw how you scrunched your nose in disagreement, wanting to do your share. “Don’t look at me like that anymore, you know it’s true.”

And you really did know it. You knew what Alessia earned, both of you being very open about finances – but something about the situation had thrown you back in time, into a toxic living environment.

“Let’s get you to bed baby, you’re staying home tomorrow.”

And stay home you did – the both of you not leaving the bed until later in the day, sharing stories about your very different families.

#arsenal wfc x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #engwnt x reader #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #woso

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crooked-wasteland · 10 months

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The rapresentation of abusers in helluva boss is something that particularly frustrates me, Stella in particular, it seems to be done just to victimaze certain characters not to show the complex dynamics of those relationships. It seems to me the writers aren't mature enough to handle these topics properly.

Abuse and Vivienne Medrano

Christmas 1962, a man renowned the western world over for his revolutionary approach to animation sat in a withering melancholy as he watched what could only be called a cinematic masterpiece based on a novel classic. Walt Disney, now in the twilight years of his life, saw the walls closing in and his legacy coming to a close. This man, who pioneered the animated feature film, saw his greatest accomplishment as his greatest obstacle. The man responsible for the tales brought to life of Cinderella, Snow White, Pinocchio, and Dumbo felt trapped in his achievement. “I wish,” Walt lamented, “I could make a picture like that.”

To Kill a Mockingbird was a piece that challenged its audience. The discussion of a white man defending a black man in southern America, years before the civil rights movement. The movement that, at the time the movie hit cinemas, was in its infancy. Released during the height of the historically revisionist counter movement taking place to combat the rising push of African Americans towards their human rights. The last film Walt Disney ever saw the production of before his death in 1966 was The Jungle Book, a movie that was the epitome of “Safe” and a message that upheld the status quo of segregation.

It wasn’t until 1972 that the media of animation became raucously adult with those political and challenging concepts Disney felt were unattainable. Fritz the Cat was an X-rated animated film composed of vignettes that were unapologetically perverse, violent, and aggressively political. Critical of politicians and the police with a sympathetic if exploitative lens towards the LGBT and racial minority communities Brooklyn-based director Ralph Bakshi grew up around. Bakshi proved that animation was not strictly a child-friendly media and that adult animation could be financially and critically successful.

(For more on Ralph Bakshi's career and animation history)

If one has ever had the opportunity to listen to a Brad Bird (director of Ratatouille and The Incredibles) interview, it is clear to see that the success of Bakshi was generally quite limited. That animation is considered a genre and not a medium of art has resulted in animated films being knee-capped in the box office. There is far more potential to animation, highlighted by Howard Ashton in his collaboration with Disney studios during the Renaissance. Responsible for resurrecting the feature-length animated movie through The Little Mermaid and credited for the monumental success of Best Picture Award winner Beauty and the Beast, Ashton once said that the potential animation was ideal for musical theatre. The limitless possibilities given the medium gave the possibility of introducing Broadway to the common folk who didn’t live in New York and otherwise couldn’t afford the theater. He was quoted saying that live action musical films were “an exercise in stupidity,” highlighting the freedom that comes with a blank page.

However, the success of animation, and media in general, comes down to the message the media wishes to send. The reason the Disney Renaissance films have enjoyed their position as cornerstones of pop culture and creativity was because it did introduce the artform of musical theater into homes and made them readily accessible to everyone with an even heightened sense of fantasy that revitalized Walt’s ethos of making films for the child in everyone.

With Bakshi, it was the loud and violently political message of a revolution taking place. This continues in adult animation with the Simpsons, a series critical of hyper-capitalist America and the fallout of Reagan’s economic disaster that the effects of which are still being felt today and a satire of toxic masculinity and abusive family dynamics.

So, ultimately, the value of a piece of media is a cross between its social artistic influence and the message the creators are intending to make. While Medrano’s influence on the field of indie animation is often mischaracterized as a “pioneer”, the fact is that indie animation and pilots have existed and been funded before Spindlehorse existed. It is simply that Medrano has had the spotlight handed to her for the myth surrounding the production and subsequent success of his indie projects. Artistically, her influence can be summarized as a double-edged sword. For some, she is the motivation for inspiring artists to connect with the community to one day, hopefully, create their own work. On the other hand, she is the cautionary tale of why investing in an indie project is a financial risk for an audience member and a risk to the community as a whole that poses a real danger of making the indie sphere financially cannibalistic, as her public persona is off-putting to “normies” and her show is simply not good.

Much like Disney, the man in 1962, and Disney the company circa 2023, the revolution of animating "because you can" loses its luster very quickly. Without something profound to say, an entire company, regardless of its social influence, can fade into irrelevance despite still being "successful". The story of Disney is a cautionary tale for Indie animation as a whole and Spindlehorse in specific.

And that is the other axis on this chart. Her narrative lacks a message worth telling, and that’s very much due to her not having anything worthwhile to say.

“I really liked when things and shows and stories allow the characters to be flawed, and allow them to grow and to change. And I think that’s something that’s, you know, the world is not black and white. And I like things that explore the gray and that and the complexity, of life and mistakes and of things like that.” - Vivienne Medrano

It is not for want of mockery that I carefully transcribe Medrano’s words in her interview. To read the words aloud tells the story just as clearly as I have set out to do here. This is someone who is highly inspired by better media, who has ideas and a belief that she has something to say. But that is where the belief ends. There is no conclusion to that thought any more than there is one in the unfocused and run-on sentences she rambles along throughout the interview. She talks of “Things” without clarity, because she herself is a fundamentally incurious individual who has never once spent the time critically analyzing herself, let alone the work of others to better grasp what about it resonated with her. She merely consumes art insatiably and without any substance. Like a diet of fruit, it has a superficial veneer of positive value. Fruit would be considered healthy as it is “natural”. However, it is the nutritional equivalent of candy, lacking vital components that are necessary to sustain basic life, it is pure sugar. Her work, similarly, lacks any value of depth that would qualify as meaning.

Which comes back to what the message is in her work.

When it comes to others in the field of indie animation, Medrano does not have many friends. In response to the Lackadaisy situation, creator Tracy explained why she returned Medrano’s donation. For one, the donation was not Medrano’s money, but money she crowd sourced from her employees. While the $5k for the producer spot of the fundraiser would have not been a dent in her personal wallet, Medrano is so uninterested in supporting fellow creators while presenting an impression of camaraderie that she instead took money from the people she is in charge of the paychecks for to get her name in the credits of another creator’s work. In regards to why Medrano was declined her support, it was due to numerous individuals who had such an awful experience working for Medrano that they did not want her involvement associated with the project to any extent. When the money was returned, she made the situation extremely public and encouraged harassment by liking tweets attacking Tracy and the Iron Circus team.

A well-known member of Medrano’s crew, Hunter B, was leaked speaking crassly of other animation projects that were still in the process of production, met with support from other members in the discord. One of these creators being Ashley Nicoles from Far-Fetched. A former friend and creative partner on the Hazbin Pilot whose podcast streams featuring Edward Bosco and Michael Kovach single-handedly maintained interest in the show until the winter of 2021, free of charge. Ashley once spoke of how Medrano would speak disparagingly of an employee to her, saying that this individual was “Too unstable to work with”. Which, regardless of whether or not that is Medrano’s honest opinion, counts as defamation by an employer. It is the exact reason why most previous employers will not give a negative, detailed review of a former employee, maintaining instead to verify facts of the employment. If Erin Frost was more experienced and less involved in social media exposed culture, they could have easily sued Medrano and Spindlehorse for damaging their reputation in their field of employment.

Which circles back to Medrano’s self-assigned message of her show:

“Abusers rely on your silence. They rely on knowing you can’t retaliate without consequence. That they can tell any lies and vague around without getting called out. But we see you, and you don’t have the power you think you do anymore. A message I put into my work. “Fuck you!” - Vivienne Medrano

Medrano, who has vague and sub tweeted individuals like Lackadaisy Tracy, The Diregentlemen, Michael Kovach, and Ashley Nicoles. Medrano who has instigated and incited harassment campaigns knowing that no one can call her out without severe and relentless backlash from her cultish fanbase that she personally encourages through positive reinforcement of liking the tweets of fans. Medrano who relies on the silence of other creators in the field due to the fear of her ire collapsing their projects before they even have a chance to begin.

Vivienne Medrano with an extensive abusive history that continues to this day, has something to say about abuse.

What Medrano has to say about abuse comes from someone who has the position of superiority in all of her relationships, but feels like she’s the outcast and bullied loser. Her self insert that is repeatedly expressed in every character at one point or another is how easily they abuse those around them just because they can, but that the narrative justifies their “acting out” because they are sad. According to the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence, “An abuser externalizes the causes of their behavior. They blame their violence on circumstances.”

Indeed, the lists of abusive characteristics and traits, according to the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence, overwhelmingly encompasses the characteristics shown by characters like Loona, Blitz and Stolas that Medrano repeatedly has attempted to rationalize, justify and minimize. Which, “An abuser often denies the existence or minimizes the seriousness of the violence [including emotional and mental abuse] and its effect on the victim and other family members.”

It is not surprising, then, that the conversation of abuse in Helluva Boss is often infuriating. The narrative underplays the harm done by characters we are supposed to see as “good”. Not allowing for them to grow or change, but ignoring and minimizing the behavior, justifying it through circumstances and perpetuating the false belief that victims are not, themselves, abusers.

One of the first blog post rants I ever made about mental health and abuse was the affirmation that not all victims of abuse are survivors. I wholly stand by that. Victims of abuse perpetuate abuse. A victim and an abuser are one in the same, whereas a survivor is someone who has actually done the difficult work of being self-critical. And the one thing we all are very aware of is how much Vivienne Medrano rejects criticism.

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #vivienne medrano #vivziepop #vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #spindlehorse criticism #vivziepop criticism #helluva boss #perpetuating abuse #narcissistic abuse #abuse breeds abuse #essay writing

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therealcocoshady · 2 months

Text

Recovery - Chapter 44

Synopsis : Em and reader talk about the possibility of him retiring.

Author’s Note : hi guys 🌟. It’s been a while since I last updated Recovery. Here is a new chapter. I hope you guys like it ❤️.

You looked at Marshall, completely flabbergasted. You expected him to tell you it was a joke, that he wasn’t seriously thinking about retirement, but he looked awfully serious.

- You… you want to retire ?! You asked carefully.

- I’m thinking about it, he said. Look, babe… I’ve achieved everything I wanted when I first started. I gained respect. I worked with the people I admire most. I put out great music, I’ve toured the world, I’ve won awards… I made a fuck ton of money, that my grandchildren and even their children will benefit from. And let’s be honest : I’m fifty-two. It’s not stupid to think about retirement.

You looked at him intently, taking in everything he said. Sure, it made sense, on some level. But it also felt wrong. And weird. The man you met and fell in love with put music first and foremost, was a workaholic and would never have thought of retirement as an option. He had often joked about it, sure, especially in moments of frustration, but never in earnest. You sighed and held his hand.

- I know it makes sense, you said softly. But I know music is everything to you. And I know that you’re in a shitty situation right now, but maybe there are changes you could make ? Adjustments ?

- Sounds like something Paul would say, he chuckled. I don’t know. I’m just considering it. I often toy with the idea of disappearing from the public. Wouldn’t it be great if everyone forgot about me ? Like, not my music, but just me ? I’d be able to go places, enjoy life.

- I’m sure we can still do that, you said.

- You know, if I retired, it could benefit you as well, he pointed out. I’d have more time. Maybe be less of a grumpy asshole.

- I can’t imagine you not making music, you said.

- I’ll always have ideas, he said. It’s in my DNA at this point. But I don’t know… maybe be more of a producer ? Again, I’m just thinking, here.

- Whatever you decide, I’ll support you, you said. I love you no matter what. I just want you to be happy.

- As long as I have you, I’ll be happy, he assured you.

He pulled you to him and kissed you lovingly. You enjoyed the sunset for a minute and drove back to the house. You were about to watch a movie when you heard a knock on the door. It was Paul.

- What are you doing here ? Marshall greeted him curtly.

- Checking in on you, the manager said. You’re not answering anyone’s calls. How are you doing ?

- You know how I’m doing, he replied dryly.

- Still mad at me ? Paul asked.

- Yeah. Let me in so we can talk ?

Marshall let him in silently and sat on the couch and Paul greeted you. You were not too sure why Marshall was mad at him, though. As far as you knew, the manager hadn’t done anything wrong. You weren’t his biggest fan but you secretly hoped he would talk some sense into your boyfriend. You meant every word when you said you would be there for him no matter what, but you couldn’t imagine him retiring. Not when it came from a place of frustration and disappointment. Had he told you his inspiration had run dry, things would have been different, but this wasn’t the case and you knew it.

- I know what Tracy did is hard to swallow, Paul said tentatively.

- It’s not about Tracy, Marshall said. I mean, it is. But a full severance package… Really ?! She fucked me over, Paul. Not only me but Y/N, too. And you as well.

- You might want to let me explain, the manager said calmly.

- Yeah, your boyfriend scoffed. I’d love to know why you let her leave Shady Records with a fuckton of money and benefits for a whole year.

- She threatened to sue, his friend said.

- Sue who ? Marshall said heatedly. Us ? She’s the one who leaked the track ! She’s the one who put my career and my relationship in jeopardy ! Why the fuck would she sue us ?!?!

- Not us, Paul hummed. Y/N.

- Me ?! You asked in shock.

You were taken aback. First of all, Marshall hadn’t mentioned Paul affording Tracy tons of benefits when letting her go. Though, now that you thought about it, it further explained his bad mood. And second of all… threatening to sue you ?! That woman had some nerve. Yes, you had « broken her nose » (as far as you thought, it was just a punch) but suing… really ?

- That’s ridiculous, you scoffed.

- Is it ? Paul hummed. You did assault her !

- Don’t talk to her like that, Marshall said defensively as he protectively wrapped an arm around you.

- Merely stating facts, Paul shrugged. I understand the anger, Y/N. As I understand yours, Marshall. But the thing is, Tracy threatened to sue and I had to make the best decision. For the business and for you personally. Both of you. It’s better to lose a couple of hundred of thousands of dollars than to have to deal with unwanted media attention.

- Thank you, Paul, you said with genuine gratefulness.

- Thanks, man, Marshall said more calmly.

- I’m as pissed as you are, Paul said. But now we have to move forward. We’ll find a replacement eventually. It will probably take two people, but we’ll make it work.

- Did she do that much ? You asked.

- She did, Marshall said. Both as my assistant and Paul’s right hand.

- I have already contacted a head-hunter, we will soon have profiles to review, the manager said. In the meantime, I’m handling things.

- You can hire someone to assist you, but I’m not getting a personal assistant, Marshall declared.

The way he said it definitely seemed solemn and definitive. His manager looked at him calmly, much like a parent looks at a stubborn child.

- You don’t exactly have a choice, Paul tried to reason. You need someone to help you. I can’t do it all.

- I don’t care, Marshall groaned. You really think I’m going to let someone in again ? Have them around my house ? My kids ? Y/N ?! No way, bro. I’d rather manage my schedule myself. If there’s one to manage, that is.

You expected the manager to have some sort of big reaction but he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t even seemed phased by the possibility that Marshall considered retirement as a serious option after all the events that had unfolded.

- It’s only been a week, Paul finally said after a few seconds of silence.

- I know, Marshall replied. But after what happened… maybe it’s a sign. You know as much as i do that we need people we can trust.

- And you know as much as I do that you can’t decide to stop everything right now, the manager replied. Look… if you need to take a step back, that’s fine. But we still have obligations. Both towards artists you’re collaborating with, as well as promoting the album. The music video shoot at the bare minimum.

- Right, Marshall said. When is that again ?

- Late January, Paul said. Look… here’s what we’re going to do : you’re going to take some rest, enjoy the holidays. I’m cancelling your scheduled studio sessions until January. And I’m not adding anything to your schedule either. But we have to proceed with what’s been planned already.

- I guess, Marshall replied gloomily. Thanks, man.

They spent a couple of minutes talking about the aforementioned music video. You hadn’t heard about the plans to film one previously but, apparently, Track 12 - the song Marshall had written for you - having turned into a fan favorite quickly after the album release, his team had suggested making a music video. The whole plan had been made since before his tour, with a script already being finalized, casting being done and everything. In truth, the whole thing made you uneasy. People might not connect the dots and associate that song to you but the most recent events made you a bit nervous. You loved the track, it was beautiful. But you also knew that him making a music video would give the song and his personal life that much more attention.

- Are you ok ? Marshall asked as he grabbed your hand. You look like you zoned out for a minute.

- I’m thinking, that’s all, you hummed.

- About what ? Marshall asked.

- Obviously, it’s not my place to tell you what to do, but… do you really want to do this ? You shyly asked. I know people love this song. God knows I love it too but… it’s personal business.

- I know, he said softly. But I’m proud of this track. I think it’s one of the best I’ve ever made. So… if I have to make one last music video, it might as well be this one. Plus, we’ve had the script for ages. I can swear it is tasteful and it’s going to be great.

- Not to mention that we’ve already spent a lot of money on making this happen, Paul hummed.

- Yeah, that too, Marshall shrugged.

- Right, you said flatly.

- I’ll show you the script, your boyfriend offered. And since it might be my last-

- Nothing’s set in stone yet, the manager recalled. You take a break and we’ll see then.

- Whatever, Marshall said. All I’m saying is… I’ll make sure it’s perfect. You can even come on set with me.

- We’ll see, you said nervously.

He nodded and pressed a kiss to your temple before going back to his conversation with Paul. They discussed some plans that had been made for the beginning of the upcoming year, some work trips, collaborations. And even though the manager understood Marshall’s wish of possibly taking a step back, he was adamant that they hire an assistant.

- We won’t need one if it’s for six months, Marshall hummed.

- I don’t think you realize everything that needs to be done, Paul groaned. I won’t have the time to assist you in everything. And last time I checked, you needed a lot of help in managing your schedule. I’m your manager and business partner, I don’t have time to be your mother, Marshall.

- Don’t treat me like a kid, man.

- Then don’t act like a bratty one, Paul said. You need someone to help you and you know it.

- No I don’t !

- The arrangements for your upcoming trips to NYC and Hawaii didn’t plan themselves, the manager argued. Neither did your medical appointments in the last twenty years. Or any of your work meetings. And don’t get me started in everything that needs to be done when you’re on a set.

- Whatever, Marshall groaned. The only people I would trust besides my immediate family are in this room : me, you, and Y/N. I’m not hiring a fucking stranger.

- For all I care, you could hire Y/N, Paul snapped. My point is : we have work to do, and I’m not letting Tracy’s departure ruin it. Neither should you.

Marshall groaned and mumbled something. His stance was defensive and he clearly didn’t want to be having this conversation. Months ago, you wouldn’t have expected to see eye to eye with Paul on anything, but there you were. Until Paul brought your name in the conversation, that is.

- Maybe you could step up to the plate, Y/N, Paul said.

- I don’t know how to say this but… no, you said. Don’t get me wrong, I want you guys to succeed. But find someone else.

- Look, it’s not a very hard job-, Paul started.

- With all due respect, Paul, I’m a scholar, you said. I’ve worked hard for my degree and, though I understand you mean well, the perspective of making coffee and appointments for Marshall is below me.

- Fine, Paul sighed. I’ll send you some profile of possible candidates, Marshall. And if you don’t choose someone by early January, I will.

- Great, Marshall said.

- Until then, I have handled your travel arrangements for next week and Christmas, he added. You’re welcome.

- Thanks man, your boyfriend said. I appreciate it.

Paul got up and grabbed his jacket, preparing to leave. Before crossing the threshold, he turned to you.

- Take care of him, will you ?

- I will, you said with a smile. Thanks, Paul.

- Good luck with him, he added with a chuckle.

As he left, you felt Marshall’s arms wrap around you and he buried his face in your neck.

- He’s annoying, he said.

- So are you, you hummed.

- Really ? He asked.

- You’re stubborn.

- It’s my life, I can do whatev-

- He cares about you, you said.

- Since when do you defend Paul ? He asked with a groan.

- Since I agree with him, you said as you ran your fingers through his hair. You shouldn’t let Tracy ruin things for you. Besides, I’m grateful he avoided a lawsuit.

- She wouldn’t have, Marshall shrugged. Simply wanted more money, I guess.

- Anyway… you didn’t tell me you planned on traveling, you hummed as you changed the subject.

- Because baldy ruined the surprise, Marshall said. I made plans for us to spend a couple of days in New York next week. To do some Christmas shopping. And after Christmas, we’re flying to Hawaii. Spending New Year’s Eve just the two of us.

- Really ?! You asked. Oh my God, you’re the best !

You turned and engulfed him in a hug. He gave you a smile and kissed you lovingly.

- I figured you’d enjoy it, he said with a grin.

- Christmas shopping in New York ! You shrieked. Do you do this every year ?

- Absolutely not, he chuckled. But you’re always watching these corny movies, so I thought you’d enjoy it. Plus, seeing as my kids think I’m a monster… I should probably suck up to them with presents.

- They don’t think you’re a monster, you argued. They love you.

- You should have seen the intervention when that track leaked, he sighed. I know they love me but I can tell they’re disappointed. I really want to make it up to them for the holidays.

You nodded and kissed him, promising that your first Christmas together with his family would be great. You wanted nothing more than for him to have a good time and, hopefully, he would go back to work in a few weeks feeling more like himself and energized.

A FEW DAYS LATER - MARSHALL’S POV

They had spend the next days planning their first holidays together. Christmas was approaching and they wanted to make it count. Marshall could tell Y/N wanted to cheer him up and, as for him, he could feel that not being on talking terms with her Dad was getting to her. Whether it was with his family or just the two of them, he wanted to make sure she would have the perfect Christmas she deserved. And if it meant putting up with his girl humming All I Want For Christmas and watching countless crappy movies, so be it. Same for decorating the house. He was usually a bit grumpy around the holidays, what with his childhood and everything. If it weren’t for his loved ones, he probably wouldn’t make a fuss about it but as long as they were happy, he didn’t mind putting up with the whole folklore. And the perspective of seeing his girl all giddy and excited when she’d admire the Christmas lights in NYC was pretty nice. He was packing his bag for the next day when he received a call from Kim, who asked if she could swing by his place to talk. He thought she wanted to coordinate with him for their daughters’ presents, but she specified that they needed to be alone. It was a little suspicious but he told her to come by anyway, since Y/N was spending the day with Talia and Jamal.

- What’s up, Kim? He asked as she entered the house. Everything alright ?

- All good, she said with a smile. I came to give you your Christmas present.

- You haven’t given me a present in fifteen years, he stated matter-of-factly. Also… it’s not Christmas yet.

- I couldn’t give it to you with other people around.

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate. She just smiled and handed him an envelope.

- What’s this ? He asked.

- You’ve looked out for me since we were fifteen, she said. This is me looking out for you.

He frowned, not exactly seeing what she was getting at. He opened the envelope and, much to his surprise, he found divorce papers.

- What’s that ? He asked.

- Your passport to freedom, she said with a smile. I saw how happy you are with Y/N, at Thanksgiving. She’s good for you. You even told me she’s the love of your life.

- She is, he nodded. She really is. I don’t know how she does it, but she manages to put up with my shit. And she makes me happy.

- So we agree that it doesn’t make sense to stay married to me, she simply stated. I knew you’d never ask me for a divorce, so I’m doing it. I don’t want you to have regrets.

- I’ll never regret marrying you a third time, he hummed. I did what I had to do for you and the kids. You needed me.

- And now you need to think about yourself, she said with a smile. And we both know you can’t be fully happy with her if you’re still secretly married to me.

- I guess you’re right, he agreed. Are you sure, though ?

- I’m good, she assured him. I’m not going to lie, it’s weird. But I’m sober. I’m healthy. I don’t need your help anymore. And as soon as you sign these papers, you’re free. I mean, there’s still a procedure but… it’s our third divorce, so you know how it works.

He chuckled and nodded before looking at the divorce papers again. He was touched by Kim’s kindness. She really was looking out for him. Still, it was bittersweet. Keeping this secret from everyone in his life had been tough but, on some level, it was hard to let go. She seemed to pick up on it right away.

- You know you’ll still have to put up with me, right, old man ? She joked.

- Yeah, I know, he said with a smile. It’s weird, that’s all.

- I was a lousy wife anyway, she chuckled. You won’t miss it.

- And I was a bad husband, he continued.

- Not the third time around, she remarked. This marriage has been pretty peaceful.

- For you, yeah, he grinned. I still put you through rehab and lost sleep over you for a while.

- Shut up, she giggled as she rolled her eyes. I’m trying to be a good wife, here.

- You are, he said emotionally as he brought her into a hug. It’s the nicest thing you’ve done for me.

They hugged each other tightly. It was clearly emotional for the both of them. She was right : he never would have asked for a divorce, but he was grateful that she did. He kissed her cheek and went to put the papers in his office.

- I’ll get you a good divorce settlement, he said. It’s the least I can do.

- You’ve done enough, she said. But thanks.

- Promise me you’ll take care ?

- Promise, she said with a smile. Promise me you won’t fuck it up ?

- Promise, he said. Enough fuck ups. I really though I’d lost her when that track leaked, you know ?

- I bet, she said. But I was happy for you when Hailie told me she came back and forgave you.

- Yeah. We’re working through it but we’re good. She deserves an award for supporting me and putting up with everything I’ve done, Marshall said.

- I think there’s one, she chuckled. It’s called an engagement ring.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #recovery fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine

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jasmineoolongtea · 3 months

Text

coffee jelly and parfait ― chapter 1: caramel pudding

pairing: bodyguard!toji x baker!reader (f), toji is 38, reader is 22

summary: after working towards and succeding in accomplishing your lifelong dream working for one of the most famous bakeries in tokyo, you decide to go out for a night of celebratory drinking. however, the next morning, you wake up and find out that you're now married to a total stranger and an older one at that! but, turns out, this accidental marriage of yours might be more useful than you think.

contents: a sesame salt and pudding!au, age gap relationship (16 years - everyone is completely legal here!!!), marriage of convenience/accidental marriage, fluff, angst, slice of life, nicknames (toji is referred to as ossan by reader which is an informal way of referring to a middle-aged man in Japanese and this is taken directly from the manga inspo behind this)

warnings: drinking/alcohol, smoking (from toji)

word count: 3.9k words (much beefer than i was expecting ngl)

extras:

⤷ mood board/pinterest board

a/n: ahhh i'm so excited to finally be able to work on this series since it's been workshopping in the back of my mind for a while shdhahwj hope you guys enjoy this and hope you have an amazing day/night !!! sorry that this chapter is so exposition-heavy rip djasd, i promise later chapters will get better. as always, any likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated <333

It's normal for weird things to happen after a night of heavy drinking, right?

You've heard all sorts of stories from your friends and family about the strange antics drunk people get up to once they get a certain amount of liquor running through their veins. It can range from small silly things like trying out a new skill in public due to a sudden burst of newfound confidence to more extreme ones like running away from an angry mob of people that you've accidentally incited somehow. Despite the difference in their severity, the common thread here remains: all are mostly harmless things and nothing that is possibly life-changing.

Much to your dismay, however, you seem to be the outlier in all those cases. Actually, it appears to be that you've managed to outdo almost everyone this time as this one definitely has to take the cake right here or whatever award they give out for things like this.

This morning, as you wake up and open your bedroom door, you suddenly find yourself face to face with a complete stranger, who very much appears to be an older guy, standing right outside in your apartment.

And to top off this already weird trajectory of events, as if things could not possibly get even stranger, it also turns out that you've apparently married said stranger last night.

...What!?!

To say that your memory of last night is hazy would be a massive understatement in all senses of the word. But what you do remember clearly is the reason why you went drinking in the first place, which was to congratulate yourself for finally achieving your lifelong dream up to this point.

After years of blood, sweat and tears spent at the Tsuji Culinary School where you fought with tooth, fist and nails against hundreds of other culinary hopefuls to win the highly coveted and only place available for the exchange programme to Le Cordon Bleu institute in France, your suffering was not all for nought as on your glorious return back to Japan, you've managed to land your dream job of working at one of Tokyo's most famous bakeries, Pierre Hermé.

If that was not a perfect reason to celebrate and drink the night away completely carefree then you don't know what was.

However, there was one tiny little snag in your plans for a joyous night out. The moment that you returned home to give your roommate the good news, still trying to come down from the high of hearing the good news, it seemed that she apparently also had a similar genius idea of her own and decided to inform you that she was leaving you to search for somewhere else to live closer to her job.

For most people, that wouldn't be a problem as they could just be able to leisurely search for a new roommate at their own pace. But for you, this was not the case as you were facing a different set of circumstances. For you, your move to Tokyo was entirely conditional on the fact that would stay with someone and this was explicitly set and outlined by your dad. Now roommate-less, you suddenly had a ticking expiry date placed on all your ambitions that you had barely scratched the surface of by this point.

This was probably the worst case of whiplash you've ever had, going from an extreme high to an extreme low all in the span of less than 10 minutes. Unfortunately, it seemed that the odds were very much not in your favour. But how could you let that waver your resolve? If you had learned anything from your years of existing is that you weren't going to give up and relent that easily.

So, in actuality, it was somewhat a lie that you were only out drinking for one reason. In reality, it was for two reasons; one, to congratulate yourself on achieving your dreams and two, to try and forget your newfound problem through the power of alcohol. And this was how you found yourself complaining to a bunch of strangers at a local izakaya, surrounded by several empty pints of beer.

A loud drunken sob echoes through the small confines of the bar which is accompanied by the thud of an empty glass cup slamming against the wooden countertop of the bar.

"It isn't fair at all! Do you know how hard I've worked to get here? I've basically given up everything for this and now it's going to all disappear?" You bemoan out loud to whoever's around you, signalling to the barkeep to fill up another pint for you as you're clearly intent on accomplishing your plan of drinking away your problems.

There's a lady and her boyfriend, whose face you can't really remember or recall in any particular detail, sitting next to you on your right trying to comfort you with sympathetic coos and awkward back pats. While they're trying their best to comfort you, or as best as drunk people can, their efforts are seemingly in vain as you can only sigh in defeat at your current predicament.

Taking another swig of the freshly poured pint, you continue on your rant. "And you know, my dad is only letting me stay in Tokyo if I either have a roommate or if I'm married even if I'm happy here as is!"

The lady nods in an empathetic manner as if to say she's gone through the same thing as well, commenting, "My dad's the same way as well, he's kinda old-fashioned when it comes to stuff like this and it's awful."

"If only alcohol could cure problems like this," You muse. "My roommate and I used to come here all the time and everyone we met here is always so nice."

At your praise of the other bar patrons, there's a murmur of agreement and cheers from all around. The frothy foam of your drink has bubbled down by now but as you stare into the half-drunk glass, you're suddenly hit with an outrageous idea. "Hey, what if I get married to one of you guys tonight, right here right now?"

Boisterous laughter immediately erupts at your words. One dishevelled salary man from the other side of the bar jokingly remarks, "If you do that, you won't even be wanted back home!"

However, once the laughter dies down there's a genuine pause from everyone, including yourself, as if you all were genuinely considering carrying out this ridiculous and definitely impractical idea. Following the brief silence, the other patrons turn to their neighbours and begin to talk and discuss amongst themselves, their heads swivelling left and right in what seems to be an attempt to size up and judge the men at the bar as potential candidates.

"I'm already married to a wife I love dearly so I'm going to have to turn down that offer." Announces a middle-aged man from opposite you, with other similar comments and statements soon chiming in to eliminate themselves from the running based on a variety of different reasons.

Before the lady's boyfriend can even open his mouth to volunteer himself, she sends a withering look and an accusatory finger his way as she warns him, "Don't even think about it." At her stern warning, he quickly sinks back down into his seat.

An elderly man sighs wistfully to himself. "Ha, maybe if I was 20 years younger..." He then turns to his side, nudging the guy next to him with his elbow to get his attention before asking him. "Hey, what about you?"

You can't really see the other man's face since he's pretty much on the other side of the long table and your vision might have been slightly hazy on account of all the alcohol flowing through your system at this point, though you hear his gruff voice ring out as he shrugs his built shoulders and responds, "Me? 'M single I guess."

From all the other voices you've heard tonight, you don't recognise his, guessing that he might have been relatively silent throughout most of the conversation. Although you can't see much of him, you notice even sitting down, he's about two heads taller than those around him and his broad shoulders and well-built physique are accentuated by the tight-fitting black shirt he's wearing. God, it looks like he's basically vacuumed and sealed into that thing as the fabric shifts with every flex of his muscles.

Maybe it's the dim lighting of the izakaya but you're sure you catch a brilliant flash of green from across the table looking you up and down with vague curiosity and interest. You think to yourself, he doesn't look half bad.

Suddenly filled with a renewed sense of energy, or rather you're getting to the point on your drunkness scale where you feel comfortable enough to throw logic out of the window, you leap up from your seat and point at the man as you shout at the top of your lungs,

"Alright, you in the black shirt! Let's get married!"

After hearing your declaration, the lady starts to furiously flip the magazine in front of her until it lands on a certain page before picking it up and showing it to the others. "Hey, look! This magazine I bought has a marriage registration form at the back."

"What an amazing coincidence." Someone mutters from beside you with a few other voices soon relaying their own hums of agreement.

"We can all be witnesses! Come on and sign it!"

Chants of "Sign it." start to fill up the bar as the other patrons begin to cheer you two on like a crowd at a live stadium sports match from the sidelines of their seats. The moment your pen clatters against the floor, the crowd bursts out into celebratory shouts and cheers, with that being the extent of your memories of last night with whatever after it fading into black.

Now back in the present, you feel your face start to burn with a renewed sense of embarrassment as memories and small recollections of last night start to flood your mind. Any chance of even possibly denying the events of last night goes out the window as turns out, your drunk self decided that it was the perfect opportunity to apparently take a commemorative photo of the event with the marriage license at the dead of centre of it, your names unmistakably written on there in bold.

As you examine the form, still slightly gobsmacked, you spot his name next to yours. Fushiguro Toji, huh? You think quietly to yourself, his name sounds kind of nice. But before you can find yourself getting lost in thought, a husky voice snaps you back into reality.

"Now, do'ya remember?" The man, or Toji as that's what appears to be his name, quirks an inquisitive eyebrow at you.

"Yeah, but that doesn't explain how you ended up in my apartment." Eyeing him up and down, you pause for a second as you take in your equally dishevelled appearances, something suddenly clicking in your head as your overactive mind begins to draw its own conclusions about what happened after the events of the izakaya. "Oh no. Di-did we..?" You gesture frantically at the two of you, hoping that he understands what you're implying with your question.

Toji shakes his head, a slightly irritated or perhaps even amused sigh leaving his lips, you're not sure. "No. Yer insisted that you should take me home since I mentioned that I didn't really have a place to stay for the night."

A sigh of relief escapes you.

You take this time to now fully examine him since you didn't get much of a chance last night, or rather you had forgotten all about it. There's an unquestionably intimidating aura about him with his shaggy black hair, incredibly muscular physique and piercing emerald green eyes that look like they could kill a man where he stood with a single stare. His all-black clothing and what appears to be a vertical scar situated on the right corner of his lips do him no favours to make him look less like a gangster straight out of an action movie.

Although there aren't the typical tell-tale signs of ageing on him like obvious wrinkles or a head of grey hairs, there's a faint imprint of more permanent creases starting to form in the middle of his brows and if you look closely enough, you might even notice some small sprinkles of white starting to pop up amidst the rest of his raven locks. This all points to the fact that he's definitely older than you but you're unsure by how much from your initial assessment of him, probably at least ten years older than give or take.

Though, besides this outright menacing factor to him, you can't help but admit that he's also strikingly handsome in a rugged way. You realise that you might have been caught staring at him for too long when he clears his throat and gives you a pointed glance with those sharp green eyes. Just having his gaze on you is enough to send a tingling sensation down your spine.

Deciding to brush it off, he huffs to himself as he leans his weight against the white walls of your apartment. "It's probably too late to cancel it since we already signed and submitted it last night so the only option we have now is to divorce."

He fishes around in the pockets of his pants and produces an already half-empty and slightly crumpled cigarette box. Before taking one out, he turns towards you and silently asks for your permission with a tilt of his head. You nod at him, expecting him to crank open one of your windows to smoke but instead, he walks towards your kitchen and turns on your kitchen hood. Curiously, you follow behind him and see him use a dingy lighter to light up the cigarette, the pale glow of the flame illuminating the harsh lines of his features, as he takes a deep puff of it before blowing the smoke up the hood.

So he's a kitchen smoker, huh? Obviously, you want to know how he's developed this peculiar habit but you decide to bite your tongue for now as there are more pressing issues on hand such as the undeniable elephant in the room.

There's a brief moment of silence before Toji starts speaking again. "Y'know, I kinda feel bad for last night 'cause you're going to be a divorcee so young."

"Hey! I'm not that young you know, Ossan!" You protest in return, crossing your arms over your chest in a slightly childish display of annoyance. That earns you what sounds like a breathy laugh from him as one corner of his lips tilts upwards in a somewhat crooked manner.

"Oh yeah? Then how old are ya?" There's a teasing lilt to his voice, almost as if he's slightly amused by your antics.

You huff. "22. What about you?"

"You really can't remember much from last night huh? I'm 38." If he's 38 then that means there's a 16-year age difference between you two. Not the worst-case scenario that could happen when it comes to marrying a complete stranger by accident, you think to yourself.

It seems that your apparent lack of reaction, only giving out a half-hearted hmm, to finding out his age is surprising to him. If he was going to be honest, he wasn't ruling out that you might have started bolting out of your apartment at the mention of it and in that case, he wouldn't blame you.

You state, "Besides, you're not the only one to blame here. It's on me as well since we both signed it. So don't feel bad. We'll get it taken care of as soon as possible." You send a reassuring smile his way, waving off his concerns with an easy-going wave of your wrist. For some reason, he feels like he might even believe your assurance for a second.

Much to your public embarrassment your stomach starts to grumble loudly with what some might say is impeccable comedic timing. "Or well, as soon as I get some food." You comment bashfully, your previously carefree attitude fading away relatively quickly as a new priority has emerged.

As you make the move towards your fridge, you look over at him from your shoulder as you ask, "Oh right. Do you want something as well? I don't really cook meals that often so all I have in my kitchen is basically just baking ingredients."

Toji does a quick look around the kitchen, examining the clear state of mess and disarray that it's in and scoffs offhandedly to himself. "Didn't realise you could call this mess a kitchen."

"In my defence, my roommate used to do all the cooking and cleaning whilst I mainly covered the bills." You point back at him, a wooden spoon in hand as you wave at him warningly.

"What happened to them then?"

"Oh, you know, suddenly deciding to move closer to work even though your roommate has already paid the lease for the year for two people and stuff like that." There's an edge of annoyance to your tone, clearly, you're still annoyed at your roommate for putting you in this predicament, but Toji decides not to comment on it.

After watching you struggle to turn on your gas stove for what seems to be like the tenth time in the span of 2 minutes, a loud sigh of exasperation escapes him as he places his calloused hand on top of yours. stopping you in your tracks. "Come on, just let me do it." He states. As he moves closer to the kitchen counter, his body is positioned so close to your left side that you can feel the heat radiating off of him.

He starts to busy himself with various ingredients as it seems that he's now begrudgingly taken over cooking duties from you, no protests from your side by the way. Before you go to take your seat at the kitchen table, you hear him mumble under his breath. "Can't believe you have the time to go out and get drunk and not even to clean your place."

"Hey." You turn around to face him once again, your voice stern. "You don't know me, alright? I wanna stay in Tokyo because I just got my dream job and I'm not planning on leaving any time soon."

"...Yer job? What d'you do?"

"I'm a baker. Have you ever heard of the bakery, Pierre Hermé?"

He pauses, bringing a finger up to his chin as if deep in thought. "Think 've walked past it a few times. Why?"

There's a renewed sense of excitement to you, passion very much evident in both your words and expression as you launch into an animated spiel at his question. "It's one of the top bakeries in Tokyo and I've spent my whole life working towards being able to get a job there." You look out at the window, quietly contemplating and contrasting the crowded and bustling streets and skyline of Tokyo with the sleepy and relatively isolated atmosphere of your hometown.

"Back in my home town, there isn't really much opportunity to work somewhere like this, especially since it's a foreign bakery specialising in French pastries so this is basically my only chance to fulfil my dreams." You can't help but let a wistful sigh leave your lips, thinking about how hard you've fought to get to this point now. Unbeknownst to you, Toji suddenly sits up straighter, his back pressed against the cool ceramic countertops as he stares at you, seemingly studying you in a new light after your words. Before you can realise it though, he quickly adverts his gaze elsewhere, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"What about you?" You ask him, a sense of interest clearly present in your voice. For someone like him, you don't even know where to really begin when it comes to guessing what a guy like him could do for a living as it could range from semi-realistic to wildly fantastical like straight out of a TV show.

"...I'm a bodyguard for hire." Compared to you though, his tone is devoid of the same energy and passion present in yours with him even pausing slightly before answering, as if he was hesitant to reveal this aspect about himself.

"Wow, that's cool." There's a small sense of awe at his response. Being a bodyguard would definitely explain that muscular physique of his, you remark quietly to yourself.

A tsk sound escapes him at your comment, shrugging it off with his shoulders as he turns to the side. "All I care is that it pays well. Nothin' more."

You deflate a little at his words. To you, he sounds more begrudging than anything and you think that there's probably a story behind that as well, like many other things about him like that lip scar of his, but you choose to avoid prodding him even further as well in his defence, you've technically just met each other last night. All of a sudden, you're hit with an idea, a crazy idea just like last night, but this time now sober, and it might just be crazy enough to work or you two might just be desperate enough to make it work. You clear your throat before you call out to him.

"Hey, Ossan." Toji looks back at you, and clearly, you've managed to pique his curiosity by the amused expression present on his face. If you were a lesser person, you might have shrunk under the intensity of his gaze so intently trained on you but you don't, there's too much of your future dream riding on this now for you to back out before anything could have even begun. You look into his eyes, maintaining eye contact before you continue. "I have an idea, actually, it's more of a request. The next time I go back home to visit my parents, can you come with me as my husband? If I'm married to someone who lives in Tokyo, my dad can't tell me to move home anymore and he'll definitely believe that it's real once he sees your name on the official family register."

Before he can even say no or offer any protest of his own, you add, "Plus, this deal will be beneficial to you as well since you'll get a place to live until you get your own apartment. So, let's hold off on the divorce until then."

There's a hopeful look in your eyes with a look of determination painted on your features. Evidently, even without his input, it appears to be that you're dead set on this plan if it means you get the slightest chance of staying here. He contemplates a future where he says no, imagining another week of being forced to couch surf on his boss's stale office couch and living in a constant state of uncertainty for who knows how long. Sure, it's not like he's so sure about what going to happen now but at least if he agrees to this, he's not alone in dealing with whatever uncertainty is thrown his way.

He shakes his head, stubbing out the burnt end of his cigarette in the sink and takes your hand in his.

"Alright fine, yer got a deal."

taglist: @catobsessedlady , @aluvrina , @thulhu , @sn1perz , @meowmeew , @hprnx , @r0ckst4rjk , @dianakisses , @lashaemorow , @cinnabooonn

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk series #toji x reader #toji x you #toji fushiguro x you #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader #ongoing series #fushiguro toji x you #series #‧₊˚ ⋅ 🍵 writes

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theflyindutchwoman · 8 months

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You make that your home screen, you're gonna be running the Academy training course in a bomb disposal suit. I would never do that. It is now my lock screen. Listen, I wouldn't have gotten this stupid plaque if you didn't have my back today. So, you know, thanks. For what? Doing my job?

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 2.08 - Clean Cut

Going back to these early moments is always fascinating… To see how far they've come… How Tim was already struggling so much with keeping his wall, pretending to be annoyed with Lucy's antics, but failing miserably. Like when she takes advantage of the situation by taking so many pictures of him, using Rachel as an excuse to get away with it. He may try to use threats as a deterrent but his tone is much softer than usual. Even his grumpiness is quickly replaced by amusement. Especially once Lucy pulls one over him, by making him her lock screen instead of her home screen, finding a loophole. A simple way of showing how comfortable she is around him at this point. His jaw clench… His little smile, so bashful… How he's trying to hide it by lowering his head - not that he's fooling anyone. And this is a good way to get back at him for making those TShirts after he caught her sleeping during their night shift. And he knows it… Most importantly, he absolutely loves that she can give as good as she gets. That she isn't afraid of him and sees right through him. He may not be able to verbalise it but it is important to him. Just like it means a lot to him that she made sure he would get his award.

Or 'this stupid plaque' as he says… And that's truly a Tim Bradford thing, to downplay his own achievements. But this is someone who takes pride in his job, who actually probably found comfort in it when his personal life was falling apart. So for all his protests, deep down, it's clear that he is touched to receive it. Just like he is touched that Lucy fought so hard to clear his name and had his back the whole time. Again. Just like he had hers during her Plain Clothes Day for instance. And this leads us to this sweet moment between them, with Lucy repeating his own words from Redwood back to him… 'For what? Doing my job?'… This was really the moment where Tim showed her his softer side. Where he helped ground her. That was a turning point in their relationship, which makes her choice of words so meaningful. She is a quick learner. The way her eyes twinkles when she says them… Her smug smile… She is absolutely enjoying herself. But here's the thing : she did more than just her job. Again. She didn't hesitate to go toe to toe with a superior officer (again!), regardless of the consequences for her. As a rookie, her position is precarious but that has never stopped her. She has had Tim's back from the very beginning, looking out for him. This goes far beyond than merely doing her job.

Then again, those are the same idiots who practice kissing for 'work'… And who apparently have no understanding of the concept of personal space… In front of their colleagues. Like I said, going back to these early moments is always fascinating… To see how far they've come… And to see how some things haven't changed at all. How they've always used 'work' as a way to express their feelings without realising it.

#the rookie #chenford #chenfordedit #lucy chen #tim bradford #2.08 #Anatomy of a scene - Chenford Edition

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queenshelby · 4 months

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An Illicit Affair

Part 42: Big News

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

Life, however, had other plans for you and it was a Monday afternoon, exactly four days before your trip to Los Angeles, that you received some life changing news.

You had just finished yet another treatment session with your therapist who informed you that you were ready to walk unaided again, albeit slowly. No high heels and no strenuous activities for at least another week, but progress, nonetheless.

Exiting the therapy room with a smile on your face, life seemed to be looking up and, without your crutches, you made your way to the day-clinic adjacent to the therapy canter on campus to see your friend Lucy.

You had been catching up with her every week for a coffee, following your sessions, but today, you were actually meeting her for something else. You had a medical appointment with her that day to get back on track with your general health.

Since the accident, you had been neglecting your iron levels for which, until then, you had been taking tablets every day. On top of that, you needed and wanted to get back on to some form of birth control, sensing Cillian's growing frustration of having to pull out whenever you were intimate with one another.

As a medical student yourself, you knew that this wasn't even an appropriate method of preventing pregnancy and whilst Cillian had fantastic self-control, you knew not to push your luck.

Having children was not on your radar right now. Your life was way too complicated to start a family , and there were still so many things you wanted to do and achieve. However, the idea of growing old with Cillian was a comforting thought, and the possibility of having a child together one day was not entirely off the table. One day, in about five years or so, this would be a possibility.

As you walked in the day-clinic, there was a line of people waiting to check-in and the atmosphere buzzed with activity as nurses hurriedly called out names and directed patients to the correct rooms.

Seating arrangements were limited, but there was a spare seat available by the window, not far from Lucy's consultancy room.

Fellow students and nurses you knew quickly came to greet you, some even lingering a moment longer just to ask about your recovery, expressing their concerns and support. You exchanged pleasantries and politely nodded along as they peppered you with questions you had grown accustomed to answering.

Finally, catching sight of your best friend Lucy, you greeted her excitedly and she quickly asked one of the nurses for your file before calling you into her consultancy room.

She gave you a warm hug as always before asking you to follow her.

"How is the treatment going, babe? I can see the crutches are gone!" exclaimed Lucy, a wide smile spreading across her face as she stepped back from the doorway.

"It's going good, and I won't be needing the crutches for the Academy Awards it seems," you told her , returning her smile with a bright one of your own.

"That's fantastic news, Y/N! I'm so fucking proud of you," Lucy said, beaming at you while she opened the medical cabinet and retrieved a few ampules and a syringe.

"And how is Cillian? Is he getting nervous yet?" Lucy asked as you sat next to her on an exam table in her consultation room.

"Oh, he's a mess. But he won't admit it," you replied, chuckling softly. "He's definitely nervous and hopeful," you continued, your tone sincere and genuine. "But I know he is going to win that Oscar. He has to win," you said emphatically, your voice filled with confidence and conviction.

Lucy nodded her head in agreement. "He's a shoo-in for the award this year. It's about damn time!" she exclaimed with a grin, injecting some humor into the situation.

You chuckled, still amazed by how different your life had become in just a few short months. "It still feels surreal to me. Like it hasn't fully sunk in yet," you continued, running your fingers along the barrel of the ampule Lucy had placed next to you before taking a deep breath and rolling up your sleeve. "You know, he asked me to move to the suburbs with him?" you said, smiling slightly as you looked up at Lucy, your eyes sparkling with hope and excitement.

Lucy's face lit up with surprise and excitement. "Oh my god, Y/N, that's amazing news! Are you going to do it?"

You nodded your head, your smile widening. "Yes. I mean, I love him and I think that I want to build a life with him. And I'm excited to see where that takes us," you answered Lucy enthusiastically, feeling your heart race at the thought of building a life with Cillian.

"That's fantastic, Y/N! I'm so happy for you," Lucy beamed, before moving on to discuss your medical issues. You went over your iron levels and Lucy took a few blood tests for you to be sent to the lab.

"We should have them back in a few days but you already know that, don't you?" she chuckled as she labelled the blood vials and placed them in the appropriate container.

"Yeah, I do," you replied, still grinning from ear to ear. "I actually can't wait to come back to work either, which will happen a week or so after we come back from LA," you exclaimed while Lucy examined your files.

"So, birth control was another thing you wanted to get sorted, right?" Lucy then asked with a smile and you nodded.

"Yeah, I was thinking the depo shot," you said, knowing that it was a reliable and convenient method.

"That's a practical choice, but what have you been using until now? There aren't any prescriptions on your file since the accident," Lucy inquired, her brows furrowed in concern as she flipped through your medical file.

You looked away, feeling a little embarrassed at the truth you were about to reveal.

"We have been using anything, just self-control measures really," you stammered out, cheeks heating as you avoided Lucy's gaze.

"Really Y/N?" Lucy laughed out loud. "Because, as a med student yourself, you should know better than that," she chided, but there was a playful tone in her voice.

"I know, I know and that's why I am here," you admitted, blushing at your previous response. "I just... things have been hectic and whilst we didn't have any accidents yet, I don't really want to push my luck," you confessed, feeling a surge of embarrassment at being so open about your sex life with Lucy, but knowing that she was your best friend and would always have your back.

Lucy let out a chuckle, understanding your predicament. "Go and pee in the cup then while I get the depo shot ready," she chuckled, handing you a sample cup and gesturing towards the bathroom.

"Why do you need a urine sample?" you asked , confusion flooding your visage as you walked towards the bathroom door.

"Well, before I give you the shot, I just want to rule out that you are not, -" Lucy began to say but you interrupted her.

"I am not pregnant, Lu!" you interrupted her, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. "We have been careful, I promise," you explained, feeling slightly annoyed at the implication that you wouldn't know if you were pregnant or not.

Lucy held her hands up in a defensive gesture. "I know that, Y/N. But this is the protocol now, and it's better to rule out any possibilities," she told you, her voice gentle as she smiled reassuringly.

"Now hurry up and give me the sample," she said, her tone light and playful.

You rolled your eyes again, chuckling to yourself, but you did as she asked and grabbed a clean urine container from the rack.

You knew that she was just doing her job and were aware of some rare cases where women fell pregnant from intercourse even where their partner did not finish inside. It was uncommon, but not impossible.

Upon returning to the examination room and handing the sample to Lucy, she nodded and took the container from you. "Thanks, babe," she said, her voice warm and understanding.

She then put on some gloves and opened the container to check the sample, dipping a dip-stick into it, before turning to you again.

"Now tell me, have you found a house yet?" she asked as she began to prepare the injection.

"We have been looking at a few houses actually, yes," you replied, your voice filled with excitement. "It's a bit overwhelming, to be honest, but also really exciting," you continued, relishing in the thought of starting this new chapter in your life with Cillian.

"I bet it is!" Lucy exclaimed before turning back to the sample while you kept on talking about the house-hunting experience.

"There is one place, though, that I think we both really like, but god I think it is way too expensive," you said with a chuckle while Lucy turned silent and pale.

"Uh-huh," she simply murmured before putting another dip -stick into the sample.

"What, Lu?" you asked, seeing how your friend had become rather quiet and when she did not immediately respond and put yet another stick into your sample, you became concerned.

"Lucy?" you probed further.

"Y/N, I, uhm," she began to say, her voice barely audible as she moved the chair next to the exam bed and sat down. There was a serious expression on her face that unnerved you, and she took a deep breath before speaking again.

"I am so sorry, I don't know how to say this but, babe, you are pregnant," Lucy blurted out, her voice trembling as she revealed the results from your urine sample.

At first, you didn't understand what Lucy had just said and then, almost instinctually, your chin dropped.

"That can't be right, Lu. We had no accidents and the chances of falling pregnant are -," you stammered, unable to finish your sentence, your mind reeling from the news.

Lucy gave you a sympathetic look. "I am sorry, babe, but I just checked three times. You are definitely pregnant," she confirmed, her voice still trembling slightly.

You felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. The news was too much to process, and you sat there, frozen in shock.

"No, no, no," you muttered, shaking your head as you tried to wrap your mind around the unexpected turn of events.

Lucy reached out and placed a comforting hand on your arm. "I know this isn't what you were expecting, but it's not the end of the world," she reassured you, her voice gentle. "There are options and you know that already," she said, not needing to remind you of your medical studies.

You nodded numbly, still not able to completely process the news. Your mind was racing with thoughts and questions, but none of them felt clear or rational. You simply felt overwhelmed.

"Can you give me a script for mifeprestone?" you asked Lucy, your voice almost robotic as you tried to process the news. Your mind was still reeling, and you found it hard to believe that you were actually pregnant.

Lucy nodded. "Of course, I will write it up for you, but we need to get an ultrasound first before the gynecologist on call will sign off on it," she explained, her voice soft and soothing.

"Can we do it now? I can walk over to the maternity ward," you told Lucy, trying to stay calm as the reality of the situation sank in.

"Sure, I will come with you. I am due for my break anyway," Lucy agreed, her voice still gentle as she stood up and walked over to her computer to write the prescription and necessary referrals.

As you waited for Lucy to print out the script and referrals, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions. You were surprised, scared, and a little disappointed, but you also knew that you had options. And you were grateful for that.

After Lucy handed you the script, you both walked over to the maternity ward in silence. It was a short walk, but it felt like an eternity.

You kept up a brisk pace, your hand clenched tight around the prescription slip. Lucy walked alongside you, her arm linked in yours, offering comfort and support.

Inside the maternity ward, you found yourself waiting in a crowded reception area. A nursing assistant called out names, directing patients to the various stations and clinics. You glanced around, your eyes scanning the crowd, feeling both overwhelmed and self-conscious.

Minutes ticked by, and you wondered if they would need to wait much longer before someone could assist you. But then, a woman with a warm smile approached you.

"Y/N, right?" she asked, her voice friendly and welcoming and you nodded, relieved that your turn had finally come.

The nurse led you both to a private consulting room where she quickly scanned your documents and checked your vitals. After a brief discussion about your issue, she nodded sagely, understandably nodding her head at your request.

"Alright Love, jump up on the table for me. I'm just going to take a quick scan, just to confirm the dates and then we can get one of the doctors to sign off on your prescription," the woman said and it took every ounce of energy and self-restraint you could muster not to cry.

You laid down as indicated and lifted up your jumper slightly to reveal your belly as the nurse carefully applied gel to the transducer and began swirling it around, taking measurements of the embryo growing inside you.

The images she projected onto the screen hung above the bed were black and white, but to you, they seemed more vivid and impactful than any colorful picture could ever be. You could clearly see the tiny developing limbs and torso, akin to a tiny alien who had somehow managed to taken root in your womb. The movements were minute and almost imperceptible, the size scarcely larger than you had expected.

"Holy shit," you said almost as at the same time as Lucy as you realized from seeing the pictures along that you were much further along than you had anticipated.

"I am sorry to ask, but when was your last period?" the nurse inquired gently, her voice not judgmental, but full of concern, as she cleaned the transducer.

"About four months ago, before the accident," you admitted, still staring intently at the images on the screen, your mind struggling to comprehend the reality of the situation. "But when I asked the surgeon about it during one of my follow up appointments, he said that not having a period for a while was normal, especially after an accident like mine," you continued, feeling an eerie sense of confusion settle over you.

The nurse nodded understandingly. "It's true that sometimes women experience temporary amenorrhoea after a traumatic incident or surgery, but it's unusual for it to last for this long," she explained gently. "You are about 19 weeks pregnant , honey," the nurse said softly, patting your hand gently.

You felt a sudden wave of emotions overtake you, a mixture of confusion, fear and disbelief. How had this happened? You had always been so careful, taking every precaution to avoid an unplanned pregnancy, especially before the accident. And yet, here you were, sitting on a cold exam table, staring at the ultrasound images of a baby that you had never expected to have.

"Are you sure there are no mistakes?" Lucy asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she squeezed your other hand, trying to offer you comfort. "I mean, she would have been pregnant before the accident, so why wasn't it picked up then?" Lucy asked, her voice a mix of confusion and concern while the nurse called in one of the head gynecologists who, later, explained that you could have fallen pregnant just before the accident, which is why it wasn't picked up in the tests. It was simply too early to tell.

But as the doctor went over the results in detail, explaining the situation to you both, one thing became abundantly clear: there could be no mistaking it. You were definitely pregnant.

The room seemed to spin around you. You couldn't believe it. You hadn't thought it was possible. You blinked hard, trying to push back the tears that were threatening to spill over. " I... I can't have a baby. Not now," you whispered, your voice shaking as you tried to hold it together. "I don't know if I can do this."

Lucy leaned in closer to you, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "Hey, it's going to be okay," she said soothingly. "And maybe it's a sign, babe. Maybe this was meant to be because, for a fetus to survive what your body went through in those last three or four months, is pretty remarkable," Lucy said, her voice gentle and soothing, her eyes filled with encouragement and hope.

You nodded, understanding where Lucy was coming from. And she was right, it was a miracle that the baby had survived the accident and the subsequent surgeries and treatments. But still, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events.

"With the medication and treatments I had those last few months, what are the chances of damage to the baby?" you asked, your voice now shaking as fear gripped your chest.

"The risk is minimal, with all the medications you have received being either A Class or B Class medicines, and the fetus looks well developed, so I wouldn't worry, but let's have a closer look at the organs for any abnormalities, " the doctor reassured you, smiling warmly before conducting a more detailed ultrasound, carefully examining every organ of the growing fetus.

Minutes passed, and Lucy kept squeezing your hand, maintaining eye contact to reassure you as you watched, in utter amazement and disbelief, as the doctor pointed out the different organs and limbs on the screen.

The little being inside you was kicking and moving, a testimony to its vibrant health and development.

Finally, the doctor nodded and turned off the machine. "All is well in there, and the baby is healthy and growing perfectly," he then finally said, and you couldn't help but feel a wave of relief wash over you, even though you were by no means ready for this.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" you asked almost as if you were in a trance , still not quite able to comprehend the enormity of the news.

The doctor nodded and gestured to the ultrasound screen. "Well, this area here would indicate that your baby is a boy," he said softly, pointing to a slightly wider section in the grainy, black and white picture.

You kept staring at the ultrasound screen, unable to tear your gaze away from the small, wriggling figure. "A boy," you murmured softly, almost to yourself before breaking out in tears.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of fear and uncertainty in that moment.

You had never dreamt of becoming a mother, at least not this soon, not under these circumstances. And although you knew that you could rely on Cillian to support you, you were still hesitant to bring a child into the world so abruptly.

With everything that was going on in your lives, the timing was absolutely terrible and you were unsure whether or not motherhood would break you. You weren't ready for this and not to mention the fact that your relationship was still very new and complicated.

You had no idea how you would explain this to Cillian and the thought of telling him made you sick to your stomach.

NOTE: Yes I know I am predictable. I cannot help myself! I love writing pregnancies into my fics, so no judgment please.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

#cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x y/n

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caustinen · 2 months

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Hollywood!AU Clegan....

How about John wins a major award (career changing recognition) and Gale's his plus one at the event, and John goes for a massive smooch when his name is announced and it becomes a viral meme? :') <3 <3

Hehee I ended up trying something bit different with the format of this one but I hope you like it, thank you for the lovely idea!! 🖤🤍

hollywood au! award season (drabble)

John’s lips are twitching into a smile despite his best efforts as he observes Gale staring at the front page of the newspaper in mild horror.

“That’s…” Gale bites his lip and stops talking, and John has to look the other way because the way his husband bites his lips together in a straight line is both funny and insanely cute. They have been out late partying and thus the morning has started even later. While Gale hasn’t had a drop of alcohol he looks a bit hungover from the lack of sleep alone, slower and softer than usual, somehow.

“You look like you’ve been in a fight.” That’s what he finally settles on, diplomatically, still staring at the half-page picture. John nods, controlling his expression, and smiling just as diplomatically. “Well, it did look like I was trying to wrestle you down right before, so…” Gale hides his face into his palms. “Don’t remind me,” he whines, ”it’s not funny! Look at your lip, John! You can see exactly where my teeth got caught, I can’t believe this is how you-.”

John takes the paper from his hand then. ”It’s really not so bad,” he says, ”and I really liked the piece that goes with it.” He grins, and when Gale still looks bothered he clears his throat and starts reading aloud.

“At the end of the night John Egan, 35, took home the best actor trophy for his widely acclaimed performance as Layne Cornell in worldwide hit ’I’m Only Sleeping’. Fondly nicknamed ’Hollywood's Sweetheart’ since early in his career, the star had been previously nominated twice, once in the supporting actor category and once for the main trophy, but last night’s triumph marked his first individual reward in the Academy Awards. The long awaited honor brough this well-respected peer a standing ovation, but the moment before receiving the awards was almost overshadowed by a sweet incident with his husband, Gale Cleven-Egan.

As the actor’s spouse was getting up to congratulate Egan for his accomplishment, the later in visible excitement leaned to give him an assumedly affectionate peck to the lips. A miscalculation of speed, however, almost toppled Cleven over to the benches behind them, taking Egan with him. Luckily no one was hurt and a roar of laughter around the couple covered for the mishap as Egan managed his affection before walking up to the stage to accept the esteemed award after making sure Cleven was standing on his two feet again.

Egan is known for his cheekiness, and he stayed true to his nature last night as well as he started his acceptance speech with “apologizing for being disheveled after his better half tried to take a bite of him.” As the cameras panned away from Cleven’s now meme-formatted face hidden in hands, Egan then thanked the film crew, emphasizing the amazing work of the art departments on the costumes and cinematography, both of which have also received awards this winter in Golden Globes and Brit Awards. He took time to name all heads of departments and fellow stars on the screen alike, a class act through and through.

For the fans of what netizens have affectionately coined “Clegan” in reference to the relationship of Egan and Cleven, the night’s big prize was surely in the final part of his speech, however, when the violins were about to start to play. “Nothing in life is ever achieved truly alone, and certainly nothing about my career would have been possible without my husband,” visibly touched Egan started his conclusions, “my dear Buck, thank you for your patience, your guidance, your companionship, and for your amazing body. Baby, this is for you as much as it is for me. Thank you for your time, enjoy the rest of your night!”

Egan has never been shy to show his affection for his significant other ever since the couple made their relationship public in 2022, shocking audiences around the world as it was announced Egan and Cleven had been in a secret relationship for years. Later that year they tied the knot, and while generally still keeping their love private, they are often spotted together in Egan’s professional events. Egan’s social media presence has become something of a shared internet joke as he often posts exclusively from his husband who seems different levels of unimpressed by his doings.

I’m Only Sleeping did well in box office as well as receiving overwhelmingly positive reviews from critics before now being the trophy magnet in the award season. It also received Oscars for best supporting performances by…”

John looks up from the paper. ”And so on and so on.” Gale’s expression has softened despite the blush on his face having deepened. Bucky is suddenly so overwhelmed by emotion he drops the paper to the table as he stands up to reach for his husband’s hand and pulls him up too. Gale instantly hides his face into his neck as he relaxes to the embrace, leaving John to press an admiring kiss to his golden locks.

They hug and sway for a little bit in silence as Gale gathers himself. ”… I just wish your lip wasn’t so swollen in the picture. Otherwise it was cute,” is eventually muttered against his t-shirt, making Bucky chuckle. ”That was my own fault. Not the first time you left teeth marks on me either.” Gale sighs and finally looks up to him, the experssion in his big eyes a mix of anguish and amusement. ”Why can’t we ever manage to be cool about anything?”

He makes a protesting sound in surprise as he’s spinned around and then ends up with his back against the fridge, a huge familiar body crowding him against it. ”I think we’re plenty cool,” Bucky says absentmindedly like he’s already moved on from it, ”did I ever tell you how incredibly sexy you look bed-warm and ruffled?” Gale looks at him, unimpressed. ”Well, you did specifically take time to thank my ’amazing body’ while accepting a goddamn Academy Award, so-”

Bucky leans back so he can take a good serious look at Gale, his hands on both sides of the fridge around his head. ”Doll,” he says, and oh, the blush is back, delicious, ”I’ve done most, if not all of my best work under the influence and inspiration of this body. How could I have not-”

Gale shuts him up with a kiss, and decides it’s time to test the performance of his critically acclaimed idiot on his own.

(Hope you liked it!! 💘)

(more of hollywood au)

#buck x bucky #clegan #mota #masters of the air #gale cleven #john egan #writing #hollywood au #bucky #buck

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scheepstep · 4 months

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i hope q knows that even though qsmp has brought so much pain to people and even him (fuck you people who went to his actual real-life house i hope you get sued) and even though some people are leaving right now, i really hope he knows that he made something truly beautiful, you know?

the fact that phil is thinking of putting a translator on his streams shows that. the fact that he, roier, foolish, and baghs got to participate in ordem paranormal shows that. the fact that ships like fitpac, spiderbit and pissa even exist shows that. the fact that there has been a huge spike in people signing up for the duolingo portgues course shows that. the fact that he won the streamer of the year award shows that.

qsmp has achieved so much and even if it wasn't being managed behind the scenes the way it should've been, it still brought so many people happiness, it's shown me so so many talented creators that i would've NEVER even known of, it's inspired me to learn spanish just so i can watch him and roier, it made pick up the pen again after 5 years and just create.

i know people have already started to harass q bc of the eggs leaving, but i really hope he knows it's not his fault, yes he should've been more involved in the team, yes he fucked up BIG TIME by not checking up on the staff, but he tried his best to fix it. he did his best and even if his choices may have not been the best ones, he really tried and i think that's what matters the most.

if there is one thing i would say to q it would be: thank you for making qsmp. no matter what ppl say on twt, without you it would've never exist in the first place. thank you quackity and thank you admins <3

i hope he'll have a good time playing Rust (he'll be on the same team as foolish so that's a fucking win in my foolkity heart <3)

There's nothing I can even add to this :) You took the words out of my mouth

#qsmp #qsmp community #quackity

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hakkasm · 6 months

Text

↑You can read all the pages from the link above!

[Comic] Mafia Sitter

I started writing in mid-January to submit to the Global Comic Award 2024 and finally completed it. Continuing from there is a long feedback.

The working time is two months for the main text and two weeks for the cover. Around January 11th, I received a DM from a friend saying, "There's a contest like this," and thought, "The deadline is the end of March... it's impossible for me (I've never drawn a completed comic before)." But it's a comic contest aimed at the world... My art style is only recognized in this contest... I couldn't ignore this contest. I was in the middle of making another piece, but I interrupted it, and I was full of anxiety about whether I could draw a comic in just two and a half months. However, the thought, "Instead of worrying, I should act quickly," came to my mind, and I started writing from January 13th, changing my mindset.

I spent 1 day on the script, plus 1 day typing the dialogue, and started the "completed 1 page per day" lifestyle from January 16th.

The goal was to complete 45 pages, but at the plotting stage, it was about 56 pages. When I actually started drawing the manuscript, the planned page allocation didn't match, and the total number of pages increased to 65. (I learned the importance of page allocation.) At a pace of 1 page per day, I wondered if I would make it by March... (I'm easily bored, I didn't think I could do 1 page per day.) So, I rearranged my schedule to make 3 pages on weekends, which would give me some leeway. This idea turned out to be a big success.

As a result, I achieved 1 page per day and was able to finish drawing all the pages by early March, leaving the remaining time to work on the cover, which is like the face of the comic.

Since I work as a company employee, I had to finish work by 8:00 p.m. to make time for the manuscript, which was a daily pressure. There were times when I finished the manuscript at 3:00 or 4:00 a.m. on weekdays. I fell ill. At that time, I felt like giving up. (On the day I fell ill, I slept for about two hours and resumed manuscript production after my condition improved a bit.)

It was truly a life of "pushing myself to the limit", but accomplishing it gave me confidence. 'Oh, I can make a 65-page full-color comic in 2 months.' It became an advantage for me. (I don't want to push myself like this anymore, though... haha.)

Thank you for participating in the survey for the title logo! The survey results leaned towards the left logo. While the left logo was packed with concept, its font style and thickness varied, resulting in imbalance when aligned in a row and making it difficult to use in monochrome. If the left logo had overwhelmingly won the votes, I would have chosen it. However, since the right logo also received a considerable number of votes, I decided to adopt the right logo.

Now all that's left is to see the results on Global Comic Award. I'm really aiming to win. Both the script and the art are amateur-level when viewed separately, but I balanced them out to make them good enough.

It's my first comic work... I really want a lot of people to read it! *If enough people like the comic and want to get a copy of the comic book, I can make and sell it:)

#comic #original #MafiaSitter #original character #art #global comic award

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razertail18 · 5 months

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Miguel O'hara and daughter! Reader

I dunno why, but I'm an absolute sucker for Miguel O'hara and daughter!reader(its platonic, I can't stand incest)

My head just thinks of all the possible angst it has. One of these days, I'll finally be able to find the time to write other fics and this one in a proper way and just a rough idea!

~~✨💗🎀💗✨~~

You always love your papa, Miguel O'hara, but it's painfully obvious how he has been lacking recently. Well... As recently as the past few years.

Ever since the start of high school, Miguel has been absent in some events of your life.

It started when he would be late from picking you up from school, you would stay up late just to wait for him to come home, forgetting your traditional daddy-daughter sunday bonding time.

You didn't mind it at first until he stopped taking you out to celebrate your achievements, more specifically, every time you won a medal or got first place into any academic competition(specifically math and science).

Yup... You were a genius like your papa but he didn't send you to any gifted schools. He thought you deserved a normal childhood.

It was back in grade 9 where you won in an international math competition and won a gold medal... Like... Shock! Biggest achievement yet.

You already called Miguel about it and you just straight lied to him that all you got was a participation award. You were planning on surprising him, you take pride in the fact that you are just like your papa.

You went home with a medal in your hand and a bunch of empanadas on your other.

You wait.

And wait..

Oh, look at that it's 12:00 am. You could always skip school the next day...or technically today.

4 am and no calls... Is he... Okay?

And then Lyla pops up

"Oh, Lyla? Did papa have another all nighter at Alchemax?"

"Look, kid... I'll be honest with you... Miguel... He won't come back for a while."

"What?! Why? But... He said that he'll be here, besides, we always celebrate after I-"

"Y/N. I'm sorry, really, I am. And I'm sure your father does too."

You don't know why but you swore the way she gritted her teeth. Is that possible for holographic AI?

"Anyway, congrats, kid. I know it's just a participation award but, heck, you were against international kids. The best of the best. I mean, competing against hundreds of students in more than 20 countries. That's wild-"

"It's actually gold.

"What?"

"Won first place... I... I just wanna surprise, papa... But, um, thanks anyway..."

After that, it just got worse month after month, year after year. You are used to being alone now. Sometimes Tio Gabriel is there to take care of you. Lyla helps you to keep yourself sane.

While Miguel might still live at your house, it doesn't feel like it.

"I'm busy right now, hija."

"I'm sorry, biscotcho... Maybe some other time."

"Y/N, please! I am tired, I just need some peace at the moment."

Excuse after excuse. That's all you get.

There are the occasional times he did spend time with you that you both enjoy

But it got butchered when you were 15.

He was just gone. For months.

Tio Gabriel had to move in with you.

"Mig- Your papa is just busy. He's, um-"

"I get it... He's busy. What's new?"

Gabriel could see just how you were struggling to keep it together. He knows how close you and Miguel used to be.

Gabriel was debating on whether he should tell you that it was because Miguel had an accident that made him half-spider, half-human.

That Miguel became Spider-Man, a figure you slowly idolized and internally wished he'd be your father instead(Ironic, I know), that's why he's late.

That Miguel is out there saving the multi verse.

That Miguel does love you.

Granted, Gabriel didn't know that Miguel ditched you and him to live happily in another universe where he doesn't bear the burden of being Spider-Man.

After months, Miguel came back. You didn't recognize him at first.

His hair is unkept, dark circles under his eyes, more agitated, he's depressed. It's Miguel alright but a shell of your father.

It was one night where you found out the truth when a strange portal appeared and a few...Spider-Man or Spider-Men? Women? Cat? Spider-People.

Along with them is the Spider-Man you were familiar with. There's that skull shaped spider in his costume.

You were trying to get a closer look and caught them on camera. You didn't expect them that your Spider-Man would reveal his face

"P-Papa?"

After that you started digging deeper, snooping around Miguel's things and researching about Spider-Man in general.

You were fangirling at first until you realize that's the whole reason why he had always been so absent

You were furious. You don't know whether to shout, cry, punch, wail, or anything to let your bottled up emotions out

You hated him.

He left you to save other people. He abandoned you to be a superhero. And he didn't tell you! He lied to you.

Did Lyla knew? Of course she does. And tio Gabriel, he might as well have.

Would he really abandon his child to just play the hero...

You wanna tell him.

You were already walking down Miguel's office until you heard him talk about some anomalies and how these villains keep taking up his time.

"I shocking swear, Miguel, you get to see these villains more than you get to see your own daughter!"

"Several universes depends on it! You think I have enjoyed doing this for the past several years, Gab?!"

So the villains get more attention than you, huh?

Maybe it's time to have that so-called 'Bad girl era' that almost every teen goes through. But how...

You huffed as you landed on your bed filled with Spider-Man comics from the Golden Hero era as part of your research. And then you saw a particular villain in one of the pages.

"I'm a genius, right?... How hard could it be to pull off Doc Oct's metal arms... Besides... Nueva York still hasn't had a version of him. It's about time for one."

You immediately got to work. You had experience when it comes to robotics and tech, thanks to Miguel since he introduced you to it.

Miguel and Gabriel thought of nothing about it when you requested several metal parts and wires. It was not uncommon for you to mess around making robots.

The other materials that will gather suspicion, you have to buy it yourself or steal it.

You did feel bad for stealing but you love that adrenaline rush in your blood as you almost got caught and ran away scot free.

You made some changes to the original idea of Doc Oct's metal limbs. You read something about an inhibitor chip and there's no way you are implanting a chip in your body.

So you have to work your way around it. There's also something about an A.I., a huge no for you since you learned the hard way that you are still beyond mastering it.

So you just went with the voice command and controlling it manually.

At first you only have two limbs and the other pair was only used after you got the handle of it.

"Soooo... What crime should I do first... I don't exactly wanna hurt people. I just wanna fight pap- I mean, Spider-Man but how..."

You walk through the city carrying that heavy ass backpack containing the metal arms while looking where to cause crime.

Then you saw how a bunch of the policemen were abusing their power...again. And you look back at the police that was parked just near you.

"Hello there..."

It took Miguel by surprise when he saw a clip sent by Lyla about some weird Doc Oct wannabe making a ruckus in Nueva York about...destroying police cars and the police department? Odd.

Nonetheless, Miguel is pissed and was forced to fight the new villain any way whom he had found to be annoying.

"What in the shock are you achieving in destroying cars, Doc Oct?"

"Ummm, don't you think Doc Quad fits better... I only have, like, 4 metal limbs. But it makes me sound like a body builder.

It was strange how much you enjoyed causing mayhem or was it because Miguel's focus is on you. Regardless, your 'villainy' continued on for months.

You never hurt innocent people. More like an inconvenience to everyone in the city and just being a stupid teen who thinks there being bad but cool.

Of course, Miguel hated you. You were there being a distraction to his responsibility of keeping the multi verse in tact.

Strangely enough if there were any anomalies in Nueva York, you were the one to fight them off and the Spider-People sometimes just needed to pick them up to send them back home.

And as time goes on, you actually manage to strike a peaceful conversation with Miguel and some of the other Spider-People like Peter B. And Gwen(if they were around Nueva York) if you weren't feeling like being a menace.

"I'm just saying, Miguel. Your Doc Oct could be a great member in HQ. Just think about it." Gwen is trying to convince Miguel, she sort of made a weird friendship with you.

"She's practically harmless." Peter added.

"Uhuh. I think flooding the streets of Nueva York, releasing several animals free in pounds, painting government halls in rainbows, cleaning the river while tossing the thrash back in front of company's headquarters, and destroying police property is pretty harmless.

"Sounds more like an angst teen to me. At least, she never tried killing you." Peter joked.

He did give it some thought. Maybe you are a teen behind that black mask and shades you always wear but he couldn't really know.

Except for one particular event.

It was your sixteenth birthday. Miguel promised to make it special for you since you never got the quinceañera he promised you before.

You didn't really care you just wanted the whole day with him.

You didn't go to school that day only spending the day with Miguel.

This was it. Your prayers have finally been answered and then- oops...

Miguel left you in a diner while taking lunch to 'go buy something' and he didn't return.

Everything is turning out so well. A bed in breakfast, giving you tons of hugs and kisses from your papa, letting you pick out a new dress, and watching that new monster movie you've been waiting for about some overgrown lizard.

You knew he had been called to his 'job'. That is more important than you. Than his own daughter.

You left the dinner as you ran back to your home. You don't wanna cry. Not this time. Your heart is burning with all the rage and pain of his neglect over the years.

When Gabriel saw your tear-stained face, he already knew what happened.

He was ready to hear you breaking down in your room but he didn't expect to see your bedroom walls breaking down with tentacle claws visible through the smoke and rubble.

"Y-Y/N?" Gabriel didn't wanna believe it. But he saw you put on that mask and the shades that Doc Oct always wears.

You refused to listen to anybody as you thrashed everything that comes in your way. And you went directly to the electricity company and turned the lights illuminating the city night off.

You thrashed the broadcast and signal of the city (a/n: how do you even describe that)

No electricity, no signals, everything is off. You hoped that the HQ Miguel is in is affected as well.

You got bored as you ruined the streets, letting your anger out in the destruction you havoc.

Now...where was that HQ located? You swore you saw it in your father's plans.

Okay. Plan B.

Time to pay a visit to your papa's office.

~~✨💗🎀💗✨~~

A/N: might continue it as an actual proper fic but I really wanna write the reader as a villain. I know it's such a mess but way too sleep deprived but I might continue it later

#atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x daughter!reader #daughter!reader #platonic relationships #platonic #angst #hurt/comfort

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