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#ritz at home
hansoeii · 10 months
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stuck in the rain.
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arc-hus · 10 months
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Edsall Street House, Malvern, Australia - RITZ&GHOUGASSIAN
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introspectivememories · 7 months
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finishing up the skypeia arc rn and upper yard was indigenous land this whole time?????? is "upper yard" even the real name????? gan fall, you land-stealing, bitchass old man. what the fuck
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xtruss · 9 months
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Mohamed al-Fayed, Tycoon Whose Son Died With Diana, Is Dead At 94
An Egyptian businessman, he built an empire of trophy properties in London, Paris and elsewhere, but it was all overshadowed by a fatal car crash that stunned the world.
— By Robert D. McFadden | September 1, 2023
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Mohamed al-Fayed in 2003 outside the Court of Session in Edinburgh, where a judge was asked to consider whether the car crash that killed Diana, Princess of Wales, and his son Dodi, was caused deliberately. Credit...David Cheskin/Press Association, via Associated Press
Mohamed al-Fayed, the Egyptian business tycoon whose empire of trophy properties and influence in Europe and the Middle East was overshadowed by the 1997 Paris car crash that killed his eldest son, Dodi, and Diana, the Princess of Wales, died on Wednesday. He was 94.
His death was confirmed on Friday in a statement by the Fulham Football Club in Britain, of which Mr. Fayed was a former owner. It did not say where he died.
The patriarch of a family that rose from humble origins to fabled riches, Mr. Fayed controlled far-flung enterprises in oil, shipping, banking and real estate, including the palatial Ritz Hotel in Paris and, for 25 years, the storied London retail emporium Harrods. Forbes estimated his net worth at $2 billion this year, ranking his wealth as 1,516th in the world.
In a sense, Mr. Fayed was a citizen of the world. He had homes in London, Paris, New York, Geneva, St. Tropez and other locales; a fleet of 40 ships based in Genoa, Italy, and in Cairo; and businesses that reached from the Persian Gulf to North Africa, Europe and the Americas. He held Egyptian citizenship but rarely if ever returned to his native land.
Mr. Fayed lived and worked mostly in Britain, where for a half-century he was a quintessential outsider, scorned by the establishment in a society still embedded with old-boy networks. He clashed repeatedly with the government and business rivals over his property acquisitions and attempts to influence members of Parliament. He campaigned noisily for British citizenship, but his applications were repeatedly denied.
“It’s the colonial, imperial fantasy,” Mr. Fayed told The New York Times in 1995. “Anyone who comes from a colony, as Egypt was before, they think he’s nothing. So you prove you’re better than they are. You do things that are the talk of the town. And they think, ‘How can he? He’s only an Egyptian.’”
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Mr. Fayed at a party at the venerable London department store Harrods in 1989. His takeover of the store in 1985 struck many Britons as akin to buying Big Ben. Credit...Fairchild Archive/WWD, via Penske Media, via Getty Images
He reveled in the trappings of a British aristocrat. He bought a castle in Scotland and sometimes wore a kilt; snapped up a popular British football club; cultivated Conservative prime ministers and members of Parliament; sponsored the Royal Horse Show at Windsor; and tried unsuccessfully to salvage Punch, the moribund satirical magazine that had lampooned the British establishment for 150 years.
His takeover of the venerable Harrods in 1985 struck many Britons as shameless brass, something akin to buying Big Ben. A year later, as if securing a jewel in the crown of British heritage, Mr. Fayed signed a 50-year lease on the 19th-century villa in Paris that had been the home of the former King Edward VIII of Britain and Wallis Warfield Simpson, the divorced American woman for whom he abdicated his throne in 1936.
But Mr. Fayed’s triumph as an Anglophile was the made-for-tabloids romance between his eldest son, Emad, known as Dodi, and the Princess of Wales, who had recently been divorced from Prince Charles (now King Charles III) and alienated from the royal family. It began in the summer of 1997, when Mr. Fayed invited Diana and her sons to spend some time at his home on the French Riviera and on one of his yachts. Dodi was there too.
The Egyptian-born nephew of the Saudi billionaire arms dealer Adnan Khashoggi, Dodi was a notorious playboy who gave lavish parties, financed films, dated beautiful women and was once briefly married. He and Diana had been acquainted, but by many accounts they fell in love on the Mediterranean sojourn. As their romance bloomed, the British press pounced. Paparazzi hounded the couple everywhere they went.
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A cameraman filmed the site of the car accident in Paris that killed Diana, Princess of Wales, and Mr. Fayed’s eldest son, Dodi al-Fayed, in 1997. Mr. Fayed declared that they had been murdered by “people who did not want Diana and Dodi to be together.”Credit...Jacques Demarthon/Agence France-Presse — Getty Images
In the early hours of Aug. 31, 1997, a Mercedes-Benz carrying Diana and Dodi and driven by Henri Paul, a Fayed security agent who was drunk and traveling at a high speed trying to elude carloads of pursuing paparazzi, slammed head-on into a concrete pillar in a tunnel in Paris. All three were killed.
Controversy exploded over the cause of the crash and the implications of the affair. Some tabloids suggested that an immigrant had been an unfit suitor for a princess. But friends said that the couple had planned to marry, and that the Fayed family had offered Diana and her sons a warmth that contrasted with the way Britain’s royal family had shunned her after the divorce.
As rumors and conspiracy theories swirled, Mr. Fayed declared that the two had been murdered by “people who did not want Diana and Dodi to be together.” He said they had been engaged to marry and maintained that they had called him an hour before the crash to tell him that she was pregnant. Buckingham Palace and the princess’s family denounced his remarks as malicious fantasy.
The deaths inspired waves of books, articles and investigations of conspiracy theories, as well as a period of soul-searching among Britons, who resented the royal family’s standoffish behavior and were caught up in displays of mass grief. In 2006, the British police ruled the crash an accident.
And in 2008, a British coroner’s jury rejected all conspiracy theories involving the royal family, British intelligence services and others. It attributed the deaths to “gross negligence” by the driver and the pursuing paparazzi. It also said a French pathologist had found that Diana was not pregnant.
Mr. Fayed called the verdict biased, but he and his lawyers did not pursue the matter further. “I’ve had enough,” he told Britain’s ITV News. “I’m leaving this to God to get my revenge.”
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Mr Al Fayed, with his wife Heini, at the funeral of Princess Diana in 1997. Diana, Princess of Wales, 36, Dies in a Crash in Paris. August 31, 1997.
Mohamed al-Fayed was born Mohamed Abdel Moneim Fayed in Alexandria, Egypt, on Jan. 27, 1929, one of five children of a primary-school teacher, Aly Aly Fayed. Details about his early life are murky.
His accounts of growing up in a prosperous merchant family were discounted by British investigators. He sold sewing machines and joined his two younger brothers, Ali and Salah, in a shipping business. In the early 1950s, Adnan Khashoggi set the brothers up in a venture that exported Egyptian furniture to Saudi Arabia. It flourished.
In 1954, Mr. Fayed married Mr. Khashoggi’s sister, Samira. Dodi was their only child. They were divorced in 1956. In 1985, he married Heini Wathén, a Finn. They had four children, all born in Britain: Jasmine, Karim, Camilla and Omar.
Information on survivors was not immediately available.
The Fayed shipping interests profited handsomely from an oil boom in the Persian Gulf in the 1960s. Acting as middlemen for British construction companies and gulf rulers, they helped develop the port of Dubai, the Dubai Trade Center and other properties in what is now the United Arab Emirates.
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Mohammed Al Fayed stands in front of the east stand of Craven Cottage, home of Fulham. Photograph: Kieran Doherty/Reuters
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Mr. Fayed at the Craven Cottage stadium in London in 2012 before an English Premier League soccer match between Fulham and Sunderland. Mr. Fayed was Fulham’s owner and club chairman. Credit...Alastair Grant/Associated Press
Mr. Fayed, who made all his family’s major investment and financial decisions, moved to London in the mid-1960s. He added ��al-” to his surname, implying aristocratic origins. After buying the Scottish castle, he expanded its estate to 65,000 acres; after acquiring the Fulham Football Club, he built it into a top team in a nation infatuated with the sport. (He sold the team in 2013 to a Pakistani American businessman.) A heavy contributor to the Conservative Party, he nurtured relationships with members of Parliament and Prime Ministers Margaret Thatcher and John Major.
In 1979, the Fayed brothers bought the fading Ritz Hotel in Paris for under $30 million and, with a 10-year, $250 million renovation, turned it into one of the world’s most luxurious hotels. Princess Diana and Dodi Fayed dined in the Imperial Suite before their fatal crash.
In 1984-85, in their greatest commercial coup in Britain, the Fayeds paid $840 million for the House of Fraser, the parent company of Harrods and scores of other stores, and invested $300 million more to refurbish the chain’s flagship, in London’s exclusive Knightsbridge section.
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After the sale of Harrods to Qatar in 2010 Mr Al Fayed stayed on as honorary chairman for six months
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Mohamed Al Fayed in the Harrods food halls. Photograph: Mark Richards/Daily Mail/Shutterstock
Prodded by a business rival, the government investigated the Harrods deal and in 1990 concluded that the Fayed brothers had “dishonestly misrepresented” themselves as descendants of an old landowning and shipbuilding family. The government report said the money for Harrods had probably come from the Sultan of Brunei. The sultan denied it, and Mr. Fayed, who was not accused of wrongdoing, called the report a smear.
In investigative reports by the press and the police, Mr. Fayed was accused by many women of unwanted sexual advances, job-related sexual harassment of female employees at Harrods, and even sexual assault involving teenage girls. He denied the allegations and, although he was questioned by the authorities in Britain, he was never prosecuted on such charges.
Mr. Fayed was bitter about being stymied in his quest for British citizenship, although all his children by his second wife held that status. As he noted, he had lived in Britain for decades, paid millions in taxes, employed thousands of people and, through his enterprises, contributed mightily to the economy.
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Mohamed Al Fayed leaves the High Court in London, after giving evidence at the inquest into the death of his son, Dodi, and Diana, Princess of Wales. Photograph: Lewis Whyld/PA
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“They could not accept that an Egyptian could own Harrods, so they threw mud at me,” he told reporters. He sold Harrods in 2010 to Qatar Holding, the sovereign wealth fund of the Emirate of Qatar, for more than $2 billion, and announced his retirement.
— Robert D. McFadden is a Senior Writer on the Obituaries Desk and the Winner of the 1996 Pulitzer Prize for spot news reporting. He joined The New York Times in May 1961 and is also the Co-Author of Two Books.
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smackdownhotel · 11 months
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Tonight’s Special
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Grilled cheese and onion/garlic sandwich+PB & honey pocket with ritz crackers and hummus
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Also bonus cheese pull!
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lilliesthings · 2 years
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i am so sad that reid wont be on the revival idk if i will watch :(
I'm so sad too not gonna lie (my constant whining in friend's dms can attest 😄) especially since I really like the new format, less case of the week, more dwelling on character's lives, and it's fair if don't feel up to watching it!
I think part of me always believes that until they say he's gone for good then he's not gone for good? A là Emily Prentiss, I went through it when I thought I wouldn't see her again and then I did and she's here now! Spencer and Matt are on their secret special assignments and the future will tell, but I like to be hopeful about it. Hey to this day I still believe I'll see Derek Morgan again 😂
CM makes me feel a little emotional in general and the thought of it and the whole universe in which it exists just coming to a halt made me sad, so I'm happy to see the familiar places and people again, everyone especially Emily and Luke, what's up with their lives, and I'm curious to get any insight on what's up with Reid, and hopefully this will get me out of this current state of mental exhaustion because I miss drawing him even though I draw mostly him lol
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Been watching The Sun and Moon Show for awhile now but thinking about The Eclipse Duo, the Creator, and his impact on Moon specifically tonight.
The fact that this man and went with a design for an animatronic that had to be insanely complex to account for not only a dual AI but for shifts in form and function. To work without the expectation of a human needing to be present to assist or ensure functionality. The Daycare Attendant isn’t made to need an assistant and given everything needed to be balanced for that, that’s incredible.
That being said, for as cruel as it seems now [Given Sun and Moon are fully sentient and sapient] there’s not a bad logic for their set-up. A machine meant to care for children, to play games and keep them safe, would be more likely to develop quirks due to those functions. To have a need to work, as to never get tired of the children, to have a want to play no matter how simple the games.
To not be alone, because if it were to be alone there might be distress at an inability to entertain and care, to be unable to be useful. It could be in part why Sun is so unyielding and full of energy, and in parallel why LUNAR is so solely driven by the pursuit of such outlets.
Eclipse gave him the chance to grow, yes, but he’s grown from what Sun was for Moon: Someone to play games with, to spend time with once the children were asleep or had left for the day. Calming like a nightlight.
Back to Moon and the Creator: Moon has EVERY reason to not want to see this person. A person who, from his perspective, irresponsibly trapped him since the beginning with Sun. Who’s “grand design” for Moon’s existence was distorted when the Attendant became a physically separate duo, and who’s objections could threaten that current norm.
It would be very, very easy for this inventor to see the 2 being separated as something like a car crash in slow motion. That the little stability there might be is unsustainable and going to lead to a corruption of systems. If he finds out about Eclipse and Lunar and sees them as such. If there being a reflection of the other, as barebones are they might’ve been at initial separation, was to him a clear sign that their systems are unable to function without a secondary to balance them.
Eclipse’s behavior has honestly made me wonder if he might end up expressing a resentment SUN has for the Creator, like Moon openly has before. If a part of the threats, of wanting the Star, of messing with the 2 was to draw their Creator out from wherever he was. If there’s an anger there not only in being left behind by Moon, left alone, but at the one responsible for why being alone can’t be enough for him. 
I’m genuinely excited to see how the Creator interacts when in person, if he even sees Sun and Moon AS people. His reactions to Moon’s innovations and modifications, to the state the boys have gotten themselves in after everything that’s been happening, to possibly the recognition of magic and its affect on the capacity of artificial intelligence. To Lunar, to Eclipse. It’s almost certain to go sideways and that’s a ride I’m all for on this countdown to the final deadline of October 31st. 
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cassieno · 7 months
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Crowley is a romantic. And they stole his love confession from him.
The confession we saw was rushed. I think Crowley could tell something was different. It was now or never. And that’s why he started to confess then. But
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his original plan was to take Aziraphale to the Ritz. They would get into the Bently, yellow tulips on the backseat, like we can see. Because yellow is pretty, like the angel said before. And A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square would play, he had put it on queue, we heard it. And they would get to the Ritz, have a wonderful breakfast. He would give him the flowers, take him back home, give him a lift, like in the movies, and then he would confess. And they could kiss at the door before they went inside.
But instead his confession was rushed and desperate and not at all like what they show in the movies. It was painfully real and unmagical.
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diderots · 7 months
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beasts, beasts, we are the beasts
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crimson-revolt · 8 months
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Transitional Dining Room in Orange County Mid-sized transitional kitchen/dining room combo photo with beige walls and no fireplace
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aidenwaites · 10 months
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I've still gotta find something for dinner AND pack
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joonsytip · 7 months
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Withering for You || Seungcheol - Part 1
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Pairings: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, CEO! Seungcheol au, Husband! Seungcheol au, Wife! Reader au, Music Teacher! Reader au, Arranged Marriage au, College Sweetheart au, Exes to Lovers au
Synopsis: When you are arranged married to the man, whose heart you had broken years ago, even dreaming about mending things seems next to impossible when he has been holding grudge for all these only to return it to you tenfold.
Warnings (specific to this part): Seungcheol is the biggest meany, crying, profanities, everyone is hurt and sad, everything is on rocks, mentions of infidelity (doesn't happen to though)
Word Count: 6.5k
Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao (idk how I'd survive without you) <3
A/N: I'm back after a break, thanks for being patient.
[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]
Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue
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You see his face everywhere. He's on every billboard accross the city, on every magazine's cover page or the advertisements shown on giant LEDs.
Since the CEO of Choi Enterprise, unarguably the continent's best interior designing company, stepped down, the position was acquired by his son, Choi Seungcheol.
The enigmatic, quintessential, charismatic Choi Seungcheol. Who also happens to be your ex. Who's also the man you're on your way to meet. Make it make sense, you both have given a nod to your families to meet up for the prelim talks of marriage.
Your parents had been nagging you constantly to settle down and for every match they brought in, you wouldn't even blink an eye to reject the person. When asked the reason to their surprise, you always had some valid points to add in the books of rejection.
So when one afternoon you received a call from your father, surprisingly, requesting you to get home from earlier, you had never expected to see both of your parents distressed about a match that came in. When they slid the photo to you across the table you froze.
It was a picture of Seungcheol, his face wearing an expression everyone would take for being a lookup but somehow you felt his eyes were strained mockingly at you, as if he took that shot only for you.
"W-What does this mean?", the first question, when you are finally able to tear your eyes from the photo.
"Your matchmaking profile somehow got to the Choi's and they agreed to meet for talks--"
You're cutting off your mother, "No way Seungcheol would be agreeing to do this."
"It was Seungcheol.", your father's statement stuns you, "For what I've heard is it's only Seungcheol, who had agreed on this."
It took you a whole week to decide on it. A whole lot of contemplation and hesitation before you made up your mind to go for it. Roles reversed, your parents were hell bent on not letting you meet the Choi's because frankly they were no stranger to your past with Seungcheol's.
So now here you are, along with your parents standing in front of the 'Ritz Esplaza', one of the subsidiary hotels owned by the Choi's, the most exquisite one in the country as well.
When you had made up your mind, you had also mentally prepared yourself for all the attacks you knew you are going to face because no way Seungcheol is doing this with the motive of actually settling down with you happily. But since fate has given you another chance, you'd definitely try your best to hold in that man who holds onto your heart.
"Are you sure?", asks your father, concern evident in his voice. You give him a firm nod and walk into the building. Your anxious eyes watch you pass the floors one by one inside the elevator until it's your stop. When the door opens, you take a deep breath and walk out.
When was the last time you saw Seungcheol? Was it the day of graduation? Maybe it was at a party hosted by a common friend? Or was it the day you tore him apart? You couldn't remember clearly.
Seungcheol is people magnet. He's pleasant on eyes and he is the most sought after bachelor of the country.
As soon as you enter the lounge, you are lead into the executive room. And as soon as you step in, everything fades away except for the pair eyes on which your gaze locks.
Time has definitely done good to Seungcheol. The pictures don't do justice to how beautiful he actually is. You let your eyes linger on him. You notice the puffiness of his cheeks is now gone, his nose and jawline being sharper, his build strauter, physique drool worthy but what about him hasn't changed are his eyes. He has still those beautiful deep eyes those carry the entire universe in them.
But those eyes which had love filled in them for you once, are now looking at you condescendingly.
Awkward smiles and glances are exchanged before everyone takes their seat. As easy as to decipher it is, none of the parents are okay with this predicament. They can't comprehend why their children would put themselves into such a thing, a marriage without love but despise, hatred and pettiness.
No one makes an effort to initiate the conversation and as you sit anxious under Seungcheol's unwavering gaze which starts to creep onto your skin. When enough, you stand up, a loud screech of your chair erupting the air and look into his eyes as you say, "I want to have a talk with you in private."
Seungcheol smirks, eyes making a sumptuous roll as he gets up without a word and walks towards another room, having you follow him.
You enter, closing the door behind you. Seungcheol sits on the couch, unspeaking. As silence looms over again, you understand that Seungcheol doesn't have an ounce of interest in striking any kind of conversation with you.
Before unsettling thoughts could engulf you once more--
"Why did you agree to marry me, Seungcheol?"
The said man's lips curl up in a smirk as his snark respond comes to bite you, "I didn't agree. I chose to marry you, Y/N."
You shudder under his presence yet once more tonight.
"Why?", comes out your strained voice with a heavy question that you both know loomed since the beginning.
"Why are you here?", he questions back, "You could have said no. I believe no one has forced you to be here", he snides, "No one could ever force a manipulative woman like you."
There's an answer that's at the tip of your tongue which you don't want to let out because you know it would hold no value to Seungcheol.
"Let me guess?", he rubs his chin as if thinking, "For status or for money, maybe both? Habits die hard afterall."
Your ability to speak is snatched from you and it's a given that Seungcheol certainly won't stop degrading you anytime soon. But that's what, you know, you're mentally prepared but also you're not.
The same Seungcheol who'd have once fought the whole world for you, has become the person who'd slice you down with the thinnest thread mercilessly.
You agreed to marry Seungcheol because you think life has given you another chance to set things right.
Seungcheol agreed to marry you just to make your life miserable.
"Are you on IUD?", he asks off track and you gape at him shocked.
When you don't answer he continues, "I can book you an appointment whenever you're free this week to get it done."
Your whisper of a meek 'why' is met by another snarky response, "You surely know why. The major one accounts as your devotion to me as a wife."
Honestly, when his secretary who's also a close friend to him showed Seungcheol your profile on a matchmaking app, his mind squared on making a sick joke just to test your audacity. Never did he thought that you actually be willing to even meet him. Again, you are shameless and greedy, he knew that, so was he really surprised?
Seungcheol with every nerve in his body is trying to test your temper and patience. He wants you to admit defeat, wants you to scratch that ridiculous idea of marrying him because he knows how pathetic of a living being you are. He knows you for the real you.
You with every nerve in your body are, will try to make this work. To mends things, to love once again. You too know Seungcheol for the real him, so you're adamant to make this marriage work.
"Book me an appointment on Wednesday.", you say confidently, "And we're going to have the wedding, Seungcheol."
"Oh well, I'm aware of your determination", Seungcheol says with a tinge of annoyance, "But, take it as an warning, I'm not gonna let you have it smooth. I would be your husband only on the papers and in front of the cameras.", the smirk finds it's way back on his lips, "You'd just be a trophy wife for showcase, you'd only be someone to warm my bed. You get the status, fame and money but...", he stops all at once.
You finish it for him, "Love. I'll gain your trust. Consider it as my redemption, my repentance to the wrong I did you. I'll make it right, I hope you'll find it in yourself to love me again."
Seungcheol's face contorts as if he has heard the most ridiculous joke ever. As the memories of past continuous to become vivid in the back of his mind, he decides to leave the room, leave you behind.
He promises himself to never let you breathe peacefully, he promises he'd make you beg him for divorce within months of wedding. As the corner of his eyes gets wetter, he promises, he'd pay you back all the heartbreaks you had given him.
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As soon as the wedding is finalized, a dedicated PR team of the Choi's releases the statement, rather an announcement of what everyone is calling as the 'wedding of the year'.
Your father too runs a company which was build solely by him, but on scale, your and Seungcheol's families nowhere collided in the terms of riches. Maybe the social circle would allow both the families to gather under a hall sometimes but that was rare and the Choi's had been entitled to the top tier.
So people are curious. Curious about who's the  country's most eligible bachelor getting married to. Who are you? How are you getting hitched to Seungcheol when there are the richest of heiresses lining up to getting linked to the Choi's? The whole nation is curious and everyone is trying to dig up information on you two.
However, the PR team is always a step ahead, so before the announcement was made, any source of information that could have caused any sense of discomfort or a scratch on either of you and anyone linked to you both was suppressed, rather buried.
"I can't believe she agreed to do this."
"She's basically digging her own grave."
You eyes move back and forth as the two of your best friends converse about you in your presence, also ignoring your presence.
"And to think Seungcheol wouldn't even allow us in the wedding... He'd kill us as soon as his eyes would land on us..."
"Imagine not being able to attend your best friend's wedding..."
"Mingyu, Eunsoo, stop.", you say calmly, "I'm already stressed enough, so please stop."
Mingyu gets up to take a seat beside you. He doesn't speak, just strokes your hair. You lean onto his shoulder closing your eyes.
"Does Chan knows about it yet?"
You jolt up and sit straight at Eunsoo's question.
"No. He's overseas for sealing a deal.", you tell them, "Also, mom & dad already raised their hands up, so I'll have to inform him myself."
"Well goodluck honey, knowing his temper... it's just worries me.", Eunsoo adds solemnly.
You three sit on silence for some moments before Eunsoo speaks up again, "I'm still skeptical about this whole thing. I mean you both met and made things clear with Mr. Choi but I don't trust that man, knowing what he's capable of doing."
"He is no threat, Eunsoo.", you affirm, "And that is why I agreed to this marriage."
Mingyu who has been listening to the conversation quietly, speaks up taking your hands into his, "Y/N, I can understand why you are doing this. But we know that he's gonna make it so hard for you, not his fault though, he's been scarred.", his hands now lifts up to caress your cheeks, "What I'm trying to say is, if you're going into it then go for it wholly. Don't be defeated, conquer it. Don't give up easily, like last time. Don't let the love of your life go when you got another chance."
You nod wordlessly hugging Mingyu and Eunsoo takes the chance to wrap herself around you both.
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Seungcheol laughs in disbelief as he looks at his reflection in the mirror. He thinks that it's a dream, him being about to marry you, the woman he loathes the most. He's sure that it's a nightmare.
He's only doing this wedding with revenge on his mind. With the only motive to make you suffer, to humiliate you.
He's uninterested about the whole wedding thing, which shows. When you had the audacity to ask him to accompany you to the clinic for getting IUD on, he had blurted out a no before hanging up the call. When you had the audacity one more time to ask him to accompany you to meet the patisserie for finalizing on the wedding cake he had declined you then as well. Everytime you asked him to meet to decide on something, he would produce some snarky remarks while rejecting your proposal.
When you see Wonwoo waiting outside your house once again, you roll your eyes.
"I can do it all by myself.", you said unimpressed, crossing over your arms, standing infront of the man, "Just go. I'm tired of explaining people that you aren't the groom."
"Cheol doesn't trust you or your choices at all, neither do I.", Wonwoo says with all menace in his tone, "Plus being his secretary, I'm bound to follow his orders."
Wonwoo as said by the man himself, is Seungcheol's secretary as well as one of his closest friend since university. He was close to you as well once but now he, like his friend, loathes you equally.
You sigh when Wonwoo opens the car door. Another long day you think because Wonwoo has a habit of nitpicking and you're sure the two of friends scheme a strategy everyday to test your patience and defy you as much before stepping out for the day.
Another long day, you think.
The only time you manage to get Seungcheol rather it's Seungcheol informing that you both have a photoshoot together for a magazine. He meets you for an hour to go through over the script that you are supposed to lie through when asked about.
How did you both meet? Same University then lost contact at some point. Is it love marriage or an arranged marriage? Arranged turned love marriage. How did you both fell in love? You both met at a Gala and sparks reignited, then a whole lot of dates. Who proposed? You did, because during one cozy movie night when Seungcheol promptly danced with you on 'Somewhere we belong', you realised where exactly you belonged.
During the shoot, the proximity is what chokes you both. The lovely dovey act, flirty looks and touchy poses had you both, mostly Seungcheol feels suffocated.
Because you want it to be real but Seungcheol wants none of it.
You already know, so during the breaks and slot gaps for costume changes, you try not to be in the periphery of his vision. Which really doesn't work because the whole team is gushing how beautiful of a pair you are and keep on trying to push you two into proximity as much as they could. The shoot goes well, so does the interview because you believe everyone bought the lies you two fed.
When the magazine is released, you two instantly become the trending topic of the nation. You both are literally anywhere and everywhere. People are stanning, people are jealous, people are feeling the love.
It's new for you because your family have always tried to avoid the spotlight and for the Choi's, spotlight is almost an eternal part.
Your phone within your hand rings and you freeze. Taking a deep breath, you recieve the call. There's an ominous silence, no one speaks.
"Hello, Chan?", you speak, deciding to terminate the wait. You hear a shaky breathe then a sigh.
"I'm sorry you had to know this way.", you whisper into the phone sadly, "I didn't know how to tell you."
A beat of silence again before Chan speaks, "There's no way stopping this, ain't it?"
You shake your head knowing he won't be able to see it but Chan gets it nonetheless.
"I'm returning.", he informs, "Get me at the airport on Thursday? That's the earliest flight I could avail."
Concern washes over you, "You don't need to Channie. I know how much work is important--"
"Not more than you.", Chan cuts you off, "Nothing is more important than you. See you soon."
"See you.", you echo before hanging up.
Your chest becomes heavy, suddenly everything feels uncertain. There's a turmoil within that makes you wanna run. Runaway from everything.
But you can't. And you won't.
You call Seungcheol assuming he won't pick up as what he usually does. So after five rings when you're about to hang up, his voice reaches you from the other side.
"What?", he says and you could figure that he's tired.
"Are you free tomorrow?", you ask him hopefully, "Just to remind you, tomorrow's afternoon slot is booked for picking our wedding attires."
"I don't see why we need to go together. You go pick your dress, I'll go pick mine when I feel like.", Seungcheol reasons.
You expected exactly that, so you sort to pleading, "Please, it's my request. I haven't requested you the other times but please please just this once. I beg you.", you end up blurting out in a breath.
"No.", he flatly denies.
"Please, just for tomorrow. Promise I won't pester you again. Please Seungcheol."
He seems to contemplate for some moments before making up his mind.
"Fine.", he says and hangs up.
A wide smile splits on your lips, as you do little fists in air in pure joy. It's so important for you because you want Seungcheol to be the one choosing your wedding gown because once he wanted to do it.
"When we get married, please let me choose the wedding gown.", Seungcheol says with a fond smile, "You'd look so gorgeous in all of them, making it difficult for me."
You wrap your hands around his arm as you ask amused, "Why do you need to do it if it's so difficult?"
He looks at you with all the love in his eyes. He tucks the stray lock of hair behind your ear as he answers, "Because it'll be a privilege to fall for you again and again."
You bite your lips to stop the tears that pool in your eyes when he kisses you the next moment.
Next morning you wake up to Mingyu and Eunsoo both blowing up your phone, just to convince you to let them join you to the boutique and you angrily huffing out a 'that's a given! ofcourse you both would come!'
But the catch is they'd both come after Seungcheol leaves because they both have a fear of their dear lives.
It's afternoon and you're calling Seungcheol because you're in the botique waiting for him and he's late. Seungcheol is punctual, it's weird not having him present here already the moment you reached. He isn't picking up the calls or responding to your texts.
It's been half an hour already, you're anxious as you try to not let the ominous thoughts consume you. Suddenly you hear some commotion outside of the fitting room and expect that it's Seungcheol who'd walk in.
You're disappointed when you see Wonwoo. Your eyes search behind him though in anticipation but no one comes in.
"Where's Seungcheol?"
Wonwoo senses the distress in your voice and it should give him the satisfaction but this time it doesn't.
"He can't make it.", Wonwoo says as he avoids eyes contact.
"Why?"
"Something important came up."
"What exactly, Wonwoo?", you ask gritting your teeth, "What can be more important than this?"
Wonwoo clears his throat, looking everywhere but you, "Jiah is returning from Australia today and she wanted Cheol to pick her up."
Your heart drops. Ofcourse out of all days Jiah would return today and at this time. That trust fund woman would do anything in her will to stop this wedding. Jiah is Seungcheol's best friend who's in love with him and everyone knew except Seungcheol and it was tad obvious. You both never got along for obvious reasons.
And though you're aware but it still hurts to see Seungcheol choosing Jiah over you.
Wonwoo never got along with Jiah as well because she's plain irritating and judgemental and all other bad adjectives one could think of.
"You can go Wonwoo. I'll do it by myself.", you fail to say it firmly, your voice cracks.
He really feels bad as he sees you trying to compose yourself. He wants to console you, wants to say he won't be a pain in ass today but you beat him.
"Please go.", you sound so defeated that Wonwoo doesn't find it in himself to defy it and walks out quietly.
You sit on the couch for some moments. Too early to be heartbroken you think, it's only the beginning and you're prepared to go hell and back to win over Seungcheol again.
Not spoiling your mood further, you quickly call Mingyu & Eunsoo who are sad to hear about Seungcheol not making it but also more than happy to come over to choose your wedding gown.
You certainly aren't the one who needs comforting, not when both of your best friends are almost bawling their eyes out in happiness each time you try a gown and show them.
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The wedding date closes in and you wonder if Seungcheol even remembers it because he's absent and his absense is loud.
Your parents are actively participating in the preps but with unwillingness because they want you to be happy and they aren't sure if Seungcheol is the key to that.
So is Chan. He's stressed, worried and in rage for you, because of you.
"Why him?", Chan asks, "How can you even think of linking yourself to that family?"
You sigh, a long discussion ahead you're sure of that, "First of all, Seungcheol had nothing to do with all that. Second, I love him Chan, do I really need another reason?"
Chan scoffs, "But he hates you. And knowing how petty he always has been, I'm scared for you."
His voices quietens when he says, "You won't deserve any of it. I don't wanna see you hurt."
Your eyes get teary and you're hugging Chan. When his arms wrap around tighter you whisper, "I need to try Chan. Let me be selfish this one time. When things get rough you'll be the one to know. I know I always got you, my baby brother.", you smile pulling away.
"Whom are you calling a baby?", Chan huffs, his nostrils flaring dramatically but he returns the smile, "You always have me. I'm just a call away."
You nod, "So what are you getting me as wedding gift?"
"What made you think I'm gonna get you a gift?", Chan retorts, "No gifts since you're marrying that jerk."
You slap arm and he groans, "That's not how you  address your brother in law!"
Chan gags at the mention and next he's getting his head locked between your arms.
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"I go out of the country for two months and come back to you committing blunders.", Jiah scowls at Seungcheol.
The man in question doesn't seem to pay much attention as his eyes trace over the words in the document.
"Cheol, are you even listening?", Jiah hits the table surface with both her hands, demanding attention.
Seungcheol sighs and lifts his gaze to look at her. He then leans back and looks up at the ceiling as he speaks, "This is what is supposed to happen after all, isn't it?"
"Are you crazy?", Jiah howls in disbelief, "This was never supposed to happen, she was never the one for you as you claimed, which turned true and goodness it was such a great riddance unless you decided to bring that pathetic excuse of a human back into your life, nonetheless you're marrying her! You should--"
Seungcheol's glare practically shuts her up.
"I have work to do", he states plainly, "It's late, go home."
Jiah gets up and walks upto him. She places her on the handle of the chair and leans to run her hand over his chest.
"I could be such a good wife to you.", she whispers leaning in further, "Our statuses match, we've known each other since childhood. We compliment each other so well Cheol--"
Seungcheol holds her hands to remove them off his chest and turns his face to the other side.
"You're my best friend Jiah. I do love you but it has been always platonic."
Seungcheol was unaware of Jiah's feelings till late, until one night at the product launching party she had too many drinks which made her surprisingly courageous to confess her actually feelings for him. Seungcheol was shocked but being a gentleman he was, he had fully sobered up Jiah before rejecting her. Since then she has been open about her advances, never missing any chances.
Jiah fumes, her gaze is fiery, "So could marry a woman who cheated on you but you wouldn't marry your best friend?"
Seungcheol is ticked off at the mention of past, there's an instant burning in his chest as those painful memories flash at the back of his mind.
"We're done with the same discussion.", Seungcheol gets up and grabs his coat. He walks off and turns back when reaches the door, "I'm going to marry Y/N because I have some scores to settle with her and no one can stop the wedding from happening."
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"I have been working on this piece for the last three months and almost got it done", Seungkwan pauses and looks at you with somewhat dull eyes, "But it's not giving me that satisfaction."
You could feel the hesitancy from your comrade and that worries you as well. Seungkwan is your friend from academy days. You had joined a music academy because of having a knack for musical instruments. That's when the realisation had gnawed on you that you'd rather do music and that's where you met Seungkwan who comes from a well established family as well. You had decided not to pursue the family business but rather pursue music. Though your parents were disappointed but they'd never compromise with your wishes so gradually they embraced it. Thanks to Seungkwan who had played a major role in convincing your parents as he had gone through that phase before you did.
Now you both are co-founders of the 'Melodease' music academy. You have always believed Seungkwan to be an prodigy, there are very less instruments that he doesn't knows of or can't play. But he masters in playing piano and your instrument, coin it as coincidence, is cello which goes best with Piano. You both complement each other well, the trophy cabinet in your academy says it all.
The academy is curated by the both of you with passion and care. The faculties, the students as well as the other staffs, all see you both with utter respect.
"You know you could directly ask me to dive in instead of saying these same lines everyday.", you roll eyes and hear a dramatic gasp.
"Stop over reacting, diva.", you speak out as soon as you see him open his mouth.
The diva in question just pulls a neutral expression like a switch flipped and gets straight to the point, "I need you to incorporate your part and well I'd suggest you to work towards the bridge. Just an opinion though, take your time and come up with something."
You nod and ask him, "Do you have to take anymore class today?"
"Nope but I do have to be somewhere today.", Seungkwan quickly adds, "So I'll be on my way now."
Your face falls and it doesn't go unnoticed by him. He steps closer and pays your head fondly, "Sorry Y/N, I'd have skipped it if I could but it's really important."
You squint eyes, "I didn't even say anything."
Seungkwan laughs and turns to collect his belongings, "And since when did you have to speak it out loud for me to get you?"
After Seungkwan bids you goodbye for the day, you pull out your phone and call Seungcheol knowing he won't pick up, unless you call him a minimum of five times. Still that isn't going to stop you so you're calling him and much to your surprise he picks up after a ring.
"I want to meet you.", that's the first thing you say.
"Why?", he asks monotonously.
"You'll know once we meet."
"Fine, meet me at my house in an hour.", he says and hangs up.
"So what did you want to talk about?", Seungcheol asks twirling the glass of wine between his fingers.
Your hands are laid flat on the door to ceiling windows, your eyes trace the busyness of the city that settles at the pit.
A long sigh escapes your lips before you speak, "We're getting married in two weeks."
Seungcheol doesn't respond.
Eyes still trained on the view infront, you say, "Do you really want this marriage, want it as much as I do?"
"I do want it and you very well know why.", Seungcheol scoffs, "And I very well know you want to marry me for my fame and status. You can feed people with all that you love me nonsense, I'll buy none of it."
You let out a bitter chuckle, "Marriages are not meant for revenge, Seungcheol. If we're gonna do it, let's do it right or not do it at all."
"Backing out was never an option, Y/N.", Seungcheol sets down the glass and walks up to you. Standing beside you now, his gaze strains on you. His octave drops as he speaks through gritted teeth, "I'll make you go through the hell that I have been through for all these years because of you. This marriage...", he snickers, "will never mean anything to me. I'll...", he closes you off between the window and himself, "I'll make you divorce me. You'll beg me to free yourself from this so called marriage."
You shudder under his presence as tears keep pooling at your eyes.
"Hope you'll have a change of heart.", you say through tears, "I hope you'd give us a chance."
Seungcheol infuriates upon hearing you, he punches the window glass but you don't flinch.
"Too bad, what you're hoping for would never be true because I know you too well.", and suddenly he backs up.
An ominous silence follows.
Too early to get heartbroken, you repeat again in your head as you grab your clutch and walk out his study, walk out of his house.
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It's the big day and you know that nothing is alright but one thing that keeps you at bay is knowing how much Seungcheol wants this marriage to happen, the reason maybe completely different to yours, you can bet on not being left alone at the altar. Seungcheol won't bail out at least.
With all sorts of anything but pleasing thoughts, you are sitting in front of the vanity. Unarguably the wedding of the year, all the influential people of the country as well as from overseas would be gracing their presence. And that's where you are loosing it.
You have never liked the spotlight, always avoiding it. Still you were known well in the society not because of your family business, not as your parents daughter, rather as a musical genius and you are proud of it.
The thought of all those curious, envious and judging eyes that would target you as soon as you walk down the aisle is enough to make you sick.
There's a knock on the door and through the mirror you could see the source that would actually make you sick, Jiah walking in.
Before she could even speak, you cut her off saying, "Lend me a hand.", as you grab your beautiful wedding gown.
Jiah, though agitated, does as asked and when you're stood on your feet, you smirk at her.
"Oh you poor little thing, couldn't stop the wedding after all.", you tut, feigning sadness.
"Do you think your marriage would be relevant?", she fumes, "Seungcheol would never love you."
"Just because you got away with what you did years ago, don't assume you'd get away this time.", you threaten her, "Years ago your plan of breaking us up worked but for what?"
"You will--"
"Even after breathing on his neck for years, you couldn't do shit honey. Seungcheol is marrying me.", the smirk on your lips returns, "Oh and I have been wanting to do this for long since no one's here, I'll spare you some of your non existent prestige and do it now."
And before Jiah could comprehend you slap her hard across her face, strong enough that she stumbles to the side.
"How dare you!", Jiah screams holding her cheek.
"What are you gonna do?", you snicker, "complain to Seungcheol? Sure, go ahead and see if this could stop the wedding from happening."
You take your phone and walk to her, holding it up for a selfie which comes out nice, meaning you look beautiful.
"Get lost now.", you say going back on your seat, "I've wasted enough time on you my special day."
"You'll regret it, Y/N! Seungcheol would never be yours.", she snaps and utters some more nonsense but when you don't lend an ear to any of it and she stomps out.
Mingyu, Seungkwan and Eunsoo walk in some moments after Jiah walks out and you could see their comical expressions through the mirror.
"I have recorded all of it.", Seungkwan says proudly.
"Send it to us", Mingyu says and who is Seungkwan to deny it.
"I recorded what you did as well", Seungkwan says to Eunsoo.
"And what did you do?", you ask turning to look at her.
"Oh nothing she just tripped and fell down because I extended my leg when she was walking past me.", Eunsoo relays casually but you could see how proud she is.
You just smile and sit quietly. Your friends catch on to the mood shift and immediately aid you the comfort. Only after ensuring you're feeling better they leave to check on some arrangements.
It's almost time you think, the uneasiness that has settled at the pit of stomach never goes away.
"Aren't you marrying the love of your life? So what's with that long face?"
Your lips curl up instantly on hearing your brother's voice.
"You got Mom and Dad worried", Chan says lightly, "They sent me saying that it's looking like you're a moment away from breaking down."
"And what if I am?", you say looking down.
"Then cancel the wedding.", he says in a beat with utmost seriousness.
"But you won't do that. I know how strong willed you are.", he continues, "You'll get through all of it.", he caresses your back, "And you know if things get hard, you have us, always."
"Always.", you acknowledge and hug him.
"Let's get going lovely bride, it's time.", Chan says helping you get up and you hook your arm within his. He walks to the gigantic door where your father is standing.
When Chan tries to hand you over to your father for the walk, you don't unhook your arm and your father gets you so he's beside you, with your another arm hooked within his.
The door opens and the three of you walk in. People who know you, know that you are beautiful are taking in how breathtaking you appear to be. People who are seeing you for the first time are starry eyed. People who were unsure, envious are starting to accept that you do complement the nation's heartthrob, Seungcheol.
Your gaze grazes as you walk by. You shake your head at your mother softly when you see the tears falling from her eyes. Smile wide when Mingyu behaves like a puppy wagging his tail as he's beaming with Eunsoo trying her best to keep him at bay. You urge to roll eyes get stronger when Seungkwan mouths you something scandalous and in the next moment goes back to wiping his imaginary tears.
You had saved him for the last gaze because you knew once he's in your sight it, a gaze off from him would be impossible for you. And finally you look at him, your groom, the man who you'd call your husband, Seungcheol.
Not letting the disappointment get to you when you don't find him looking at you already, you reach the altar smiling.
There's an impeccable tension between Seungcheol and Chan and before any one of them could snap your father hands you over to Seungcheol and ushers off quickly with your brother.
It's nothing embarrassing you think, as you gape at Seungcheol. You never thought you'd get to see him this close, get to touch him again. He's close, so close that your heart is thumping. Your fingertips graze lightly as they are wrapped around his arm. You breathe in his scent that you have known so well.
Seungcheol is smiling as if he's so happy. That's enough to fool people but not you. You notice how all those smiles are not quite reaching his eyes, how he's tapping his foot, a habit of his when he's unmindful.
There's a strange vision in his eyes when he looks at you. He even suppresses the urge to roll his eyes when you take the vows. It irritates you but you have to have patience of a saint if you wanna conquer. It's not like you were not warned.
Once all the rituals are done and you are announced as husband and wife, the crowd chants for you both to kiss. You are so sure Seungcheol would find a way out and never kiss you--
Suddenly you're grabbed by your hips and before you can react, you are being kissed, kissed hard by Seungcheol.
You as in whole short circuit but the screaming crowd alerts you back to your senses and as you start to kiss him back he pulls away with smirk.
You cock your brow as you pull him forward by his bow tie and steal a quick kiss leaving him flabbergasted.
Seungcheol smiles leaning in and through gritted teeth he says,
"Welcome to hell, my wife."
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luvwestwood · 5 months
Text
"Working Overtime" - Toji Fushiguro
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4,469 words.
warnings. nsfw (18+), toji is your boss, escort reader, thigh riding, p in v, spitting, toji rails you on a balcony, exhibitionism?, toji fucks you on a pile of money, mention of size difference, hair pulling, eye contact, oral sex (f receiving), creampie, praising, light aftercare
notes. corporate girlie by day, escorting by night. out of all people, who knew your own boss had to be tonights client? (ok but wealthy toji is such a refreshing experience from broke homeless smelly ass toji.)
art used is by @/yunonoai
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Being able to say you work under Mr. Fushiguro meant that you were gifted of some kind. Just having the privilege to do so puts you on top of others in society.
Toji Fushiguro himself possessed a different category of wealth. Any high-rise building you walk into in the whole of New York, you could be 99.9% sure that he owns it.
Five star hotels, bars of any kind, and award-winning Michelin restaurants. Oh, you name it. This was his world and we were just living in it.
On the other hand, the Fushiguro company's pay was decent. Working conditions were way above standard. It was a luxury to work in his office, but knowing you, it just wasn't enough.
You needed more than that. Which is why you took up escorting, suggested by your best-friend one night while the two of you were intoxicated by liquor. She told you that you had the looks, the bod, and a personality anyone would die for. And lastly, you were captivating - you could have anything your way.
At first you took it as a joke. Thinking she was just being a lick ass. But surprisingly you had tried it out not long after the idea was proposed, and you ended up making almost double your annual net salary in just four months. This night job was a secret that only you and your best-friend knows about.
Of course, you worked on the weekends. Choosing to work Monday to Thursday would’ve been self sabotage.
You had more than enough money to buy whatever you want, send your mom on holiday, and you were always on top of rent. Your corporate job was just something to get through the day with rather than rotting at home.
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During shifts, you and the other escorts would hang around in the night club changing rooms. Most of the girls were also strippers in the same club, but that wasn’t really your thing. So you just stayed with escorting. Your manager would just assign each of you clients, unless someone has personally booked you in.
Speaking of which, a voice came from the door frame. “Star, you have a client tonight. 9PM.” Star wasn’t your real name, it was just a fake one that you used while you escorted. It was safer, and most of the other girls did the same.
You look at Geto, your boss, in the reflection of the vanity mirror. Busy polishing up your eyeliner, you try your best not to poke yourself in the eye. “Name? And did he obey my no-home rule?”
As an escort, you did have some rules for your own service. You figured you’ve been doing this for quite a reasonable amount of time, so you made a personal rule where you’d refuse to go to a clients house. For safety reasons.
“Goes by the name.. uh… Eznin? And he did indeed. Seems like he booked in for the Ritz Carlton on 25 West. Think he’s a first time client too.” He reads the details off his tablet.
Of course, it just had to be one of Fushiguros hotels. You literally couldn’t escape that man.
The other girls in the room purred, “Aren’t you lucky.. Seems like he has money, don’t ya think?” Meimei takes a puff of her cigarette, looking at you in the mirror aswell for a response. “Maybe check for an expensive watch? I’d take it if I were you.”
“Not funny, Meimei.” She was known for stealing from her clients, you never knew how she got away with it. It even got so bad to the point that she sp¡ked a client, taking his wallet afterwards.
Getting up from the chair, you made your way behind the dressing divider, shimmying your robe off to slide on a dark blue lingerie set. Over it, you wore a simple black dress. I mean, you could never go wrong with a little black dress.
Throwing on some matching strappy heels, you stuffed your purse with some condoms and lube. And a plan B, of course.
“Your rides sorted,” Geto stood back from the door frame. “I’ll text you any further details.”
“Copy,” after spritzing on some perfume, you made your way out of the club.
An all-black SUV was waiting for you outside the entrance. Your favourite driver, Todo was standing beside the car door, smiling as you approached him.
“Hi, Todo.” You smiled as he held the door open.
“You look wonderful miss.” Todo smiles back before closing the door, walking around to the drivers side.
The car drives on, and as you were securing a secret mic in your purse, (for safety reasons but the client never knows) Todo speaks.
“Ah- Miss, not sure if I should disclose this information but your client tonight is.. very wealthy.” His leather covered hands clutch onto the wheel. “I’d be more demanding if I were you, make the most of it.”
Breaking out into a laugh, you stop fiddling with your bag, to look at him in the rear view mirror. “..Is that so?”
“Yeah… thought I might let you know.” He grins, bringing the car to a stop. Todo quickly scurries out of the vehicle before you could, opening the door for you.
“Thanks for the ride, Todo.” You slipped a $20 bill in his hand. “I’ll text you when I’m finished.”
He nods, getting back into the car as you made your way inside of the hotel.
Checking your phone for updates, Geto sent you a text with all the details around five minutes ago.
Eznin Caln 30 years old, Net worth- $307,473,297 Floor number 43, he’ll let you in.
You walked over to the elevators, luckily one was already open. Taking a look at the buttons panel, you looked for a 43. Noticing it was the last highest button, you raised an eyebrow before pressing it.
Clutching onto the straps of your purse, the doors closed. You could only look at yourself in the metal reflection, taking a few deep breaths. Of course, you made sure to send a text back to Geto to let him know you were at the hotel.
Although you were decently experienced in this job, you’d still get nervous each time you were about to meet your clients.
Setting down the fly aways in your hair, the elevator came to a halt.
*Ding!*
The metal doors opened before your eyes. Hesitant, you walked inside, the bottom of your heels tapping against the wooden floors.
“..Hello?” You peeked inside the other rooms in the penthouse, one being a mini office that seemed like someone was just there, the other being a bedroom with big windows and a balcony, overlooking the city.
A deep voice spoke behind you. “Can I help you?”
You gasp, clutching onto your chest as you turned around. “I’m so sorr- Mr. Fushiguro?!”
Your eyes widened, and his mouth wide open. He was only in a towel wrapped around his waist, his dark hair wet from a fresh shower. You couldn’t help but ogle the drops of water that decorated his muscular body.
“…Are you.. the escort?”
Unable to form words, you swallowed your spit before speaking. “I.. I am.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, looking down at the ground.
“Alright, make yourself comfortable.” He eyed you up and down, a mini towel in his hand to dry his hair. “Sorry you have to see me like this, excuse me while I put some clothes on.”
Is he not going to question anything?..
Your breath hitched, God, did he know I was eyeing him? “Okay..”
He turned around to go back to the bathroom, but looked over his shoulder as he was doing so. “Just call me Toji, we’re outside of work.”
You watched as Toji continued to walk away, “Well.. I’m basically working, aren’t I.” you muttered under your breath, making sure he doesn’t hear.
Looking around, you remembered that he owned this hotel. I should’ve known when I was going to the 43rd floor, he doesn’t let anyone in here.
You walked over to his bedroom, it was bigger than your own apartment. The sheets were neatly made, and a bottle of Malbec sat on a table near the window.
Placing your purse on small sofa, you removed your jacket, neatly folding it over the arm rest aswell.
You made your way to his closet, in search for a white robe. There was a robe on the hanger beside his freshly dry cleaned suits. You took it out, tracing your fingers over “The Ritz-Carlton” that was embroidered onto the front in cursive.
Sliding your dress off, you covered yourself in the robe, only the dark blue lingerie set underneath. Afterwards you tied a knot around your waist with the belt. Kicking off your heels, you placed them inside the closet, along with your dress that was neatly folded.
Although you were an escort, you made sure to clean up after yourself. You hated leaving a mess around, so you respected your clients by making sure to leave the place clean.
You could hear Toji walk into the bedroom. Closing the doors of the closet, you turned to him, and he was already busy getting the wine bottle open with a corkscrew.
Taking a seat on the armchair in front of him, causing you to be at crotch level with Toji. You watched as his arms flex each time he handled the bottle.
You noticed Toji was in a more relaxed outfit. He wore a dark grey cotton longsleeve that sculpted over his muscles like paint, with bottoms in a matching colour and fabric.
“Toji,” you called out his name.
The pouring of the wine stopped, his fingers gently pushing the glass towards you. “Hmm?”
Taking the glass by the stem, you twisted it between your fingers. “Do you regularly hire escorts?”
Toji walked over to the edge of the bed, sitting down. He sighed, looking at the city view in front of him. “No,” taking a sip, he continued. “This is my first time, actually.”
You did the same, but taking a tinier sip. You didn’t want to be tipsy while carrying out your service. It was too dangerous. “..Oh.”
Looking back at Toji, he was busy staring at the red liquid swirling around in the glass. “I dont even really know how they work.”
As you were about to take another sip, you paused. Your eyes looked at him over the rim of the glass, before placing it back down on the table.
“You can just do whatever you want with me, really.” You crossed your legs, exposing the bare skin on your thigh to him.
"I see," he nods, slightly leaning back onto the bed, using his hands for support.
"So, you made up your mind yet?" you got up from the arm chair, making your way to Toji who was on the bed. "What you wanna do?" You stood yourself between his legs, as he tried his best to hold himself back from pulling on the knot that was holding your entire robe together.
Toji's hands rested on your hips on top the robe, dangerously close to your ass. He made sure to bring you closer to him, almost pressing your chest to his face at this point. "I don't know," His free hand tugged on the knot of the belt, slowly unraveling it until the robe slid off your body. "Maybe you, if that's an option."
He could feel his cock strain against his pants as he took in the sight of you in nothing but lingerie, it felt like he was opening a present on his birthday. Blue was his favorite color.
You choked on your words at his response, he sure did have a way with his words. "I don't usually allow that, but maybe I'll let it slide tonight."
Toji caressed your wet lip with his thumb, gradually sliding it inside of your mouth as you sucked on it gently. He stops and moves you to the side by the waist, getting up from the bed.
Confused, you stay standing in front of the bed, watching Toji as he grabs something from the drawer. He eventually makes his way back onto the bed, but this time, leaning his head back against the head-board.
Toji takes out his wallet, pulling a $20 bill out and placing it on the nightstand beside him. "..Crawl over to me."
Your lashes flutter as you watched him place the bill on the night stand, you could only obey what he asked you to do. 'I'm just doing my job.. this doesn't mean anything. He will forget about this.' You constantly chanted this in your thoughts, completely disregarding the fact that he was your boss.
You crawled onto the bed, and slowly to him. Toji's eyes watched you closely making sure to tell you, "Stop," as you were just about to crawl onto his lap.
He takes out another $20 bill from his wallet, this time, two. Toji gently raised his knee, just enough for it to rub against your warm cunt that was covered by the lace panties. "Ride my leg, until I tell you to stop."
Aroused, which you are not meant to be, you couldn't help but sink yourself down onto his leg. Part of you wanted this, but you did at good job at not showing it.
You slowly started to move your hips back and forth on his lower thigh, placing both of your hands down in front of you for support. Toji's hardened cock begging to come out as he watched you closely.
If you were to lift up his top, you’d be able to see his leaking top peeking out of his waistband. The straps of your bra slowly fell down off your shoulders. Toji could almost groan at this lewd sight in front of him.
"Good girl," He did his best to hold himself back from holding onto your hips, "Keep going."
A spot on the fabric of his pants turned into a darker grey than before, your slick making its way through your panties. Nothing can be done.
Breathy moans started to crawl out of your throat, Toji noticing as you started to grind on his leg harder and slightly faster. "Stop."
You whimpered quietly as Toji retracted his leg from underneath you, observing the newly made wet spot on his pants. "Look at this mess you made all over me.."
Speechless, and breathless, you fell back onto your heels in front of Toji, he took another bill out, but this time $50.
"..I want that bra off." He slaps the bill onto the growing pile on the nightstand, followed by another 50. But he doesn't take his eyes off you. "And the panties. They're kinda annoying me now."
Doing exactly as he said, Toji's hand rested on his crotch, aching to palm himself through his pants. You slowly, but teasingly unclasped your bra, Toji clearing his throat by the time your tits were finally on display to him.
Followed by your soaked underwear, which at this point was no use. They managed to fly across the bedroom, hanging off a small statue that was on top of a console table.
He just wanted to wrap his mouth around each of them, or even motorboat your titties.
Toji propped himself up in a less relaxed position. "Lie down on your back, legs spread."
Your last sight was him before you fell back on to the bed, your head nearly hanging off the edge. Toji noticed your nipples hardened as soon as your skin made contact with the cold satin sheets. You felt the weight of the bed shift around, as Toji grabbed both of your legs by the thighs, positioning his head between them.
Squirming about, Toji peppered kisses on your inner thighs, his large hand wrapped around one of them. Wasting no time, he went straight to sucking and softly biting on your folds, using his tongue to lap at your bud until it was swollen. Moaning into your pussy, he softly massaged the flesh of your thigh, the vibrations from his grunts adding more to your stimulation.
Busy sucking away, wet noises from his tongue and the slick of your dripping pussy echoing throughout the bedroom. His hand reached behind him, then slowly went back over his shoulder. It was a $100 bill, tucked between his index and middle finger.
You were too busy hanging your head off the edge of the bed in pleasure, grabbing the sheets beside you and wrinkling them as Toji devoured you like he hasn't eaten for weeks.
The paper bill fell onto your stomach, tickling you slightly. You could feel Toji spit onto your pussy, the saliva trickling down almost into your hole before he slurped it back up, sticking his fingers in there instead. You felt them slide into you with ease, Toji swirling his warm tongue around on your clit.
"O-oh God.. To..ji." You managed to choke out a moan, your manicured hands clawing at his hair and eventually messing it up.
Letting go of your thigh, he used his now free hand to fondle with your breasts eagerly, twisting your nipples between his fingertips before giving them a slap.
One last lick on your clit, Toji removed his head between your legs, this time his whole body kneeling between them. You sneakily push up against him, his bulge through his pants grazing against your bare cunt.
Using your strength to lift your head from the edge of the bed, you watched as he took off his shirt, letting it fall onto the floor. Its neckline was soaked from eating you out earlier, but we don't talk about that.
Panting, his hands frantically rummage through his wallet. You noticed it was still bulky, as if the previous cash he pulled out didn't make any difference to the amount he had now.
Toji pulled out $1000 all in 20 bills, your eyes widening, wondering if he was serious.
"Please.. let me fuck you." Toji also sat back on his heels, $1000 in his hands as you were underneath him, fully naked. He just wanted to indulge himself in you, and if he could, he'd make this night last forever.
You slowly nodded, honestly begging to having his cock inside of you too. Before you knew it, your vision was filled with the $1000 raining down onto your body, and by your sides on the bed. He quickly pulled his bottoms down to his knees, before realising they were too annoying. He proceeds to fully kick them off.
Toji glances around the room for a condom, before you stopped him. "..Is it okay if we don't use one? ..I want to feel every inch of you."
You read his mind. "Anything you want, gorgeous."
His large hands shuffled through the pile of cash that was over your body, making sure that he could still see your tits and your beautiful face.
One hand grabbed onto your waist, and the other was used to align the tip of his cock with your hole. As soon as he slightly pushed the tip in, both of his hands were on your waist now.
Toji carefully slid in, making sure you take every inch of him. He closes his eyes in pleasure as he feels your plush walls clench around him, Tojis grip on your waist intensifying.
And, god was he big. In both cock, and Toji in general, he could destroy you if he decided to use full stength tonight.
"Y-you're too.. big," Toji not even halfway, you cry out, only wrinkling the sheets more to the point they weren't tucked into the frame hotel-style anymore.
You could feel both of his thumbs caress the soft skin of your sides as he cooed, "I know baby, I know," Toji let out a grunt as he tried to move in and out of you.
The difference of size between you and Toji made you throb, at this point he could just use his hands to fuck you on his cock back and forth like a doll in his grasp.
Toji starts to pant as he picked up the pace of his ruts, your tits bouncing, only adding to the pornographic sight in front of him.
Covering your face with your hands, you moan into them, the feeling of being full with Tojis cock was driving you mad. You could feel one hand let go of your waist, bringing it to your wrist to pull it away from covering your face.
The rustling of the cash beneath you and the sound of skin slapping echoed out into the living room from the bedroom. "Look at me when I fuck you," Toji says sternly, causing you to whimper in agitation as you did your best to keep your eyes on his.
"To..Toji.." You moan out, choking on your words as your hand grabbed onto his that was wrapped around on your waist.
"Come on doll, say my name." Turning feral, Toji pounds into you like a fleshlight. Voice shaking as you try to moan out his name, and by tomorrow you wouldn't be surprised if you lost your voice.
He comes to a halt, completely. Toji slides his cock out of you, a creamy white ring formed at the base. You whine before he hushes you. "Y'know what," He picks you up, cradling you in his arms.
You switch positions, instead you lock your legs around his waist, as the two of you made your way to the balcony door of the bedroom. Is he..
*click!*
Toji slid the glass door open, the two of you stepping out into the balcony. It wasn't cold, and you could see the still busy city carrying on with life underneath the hotel.
Suddenly, Toji peeled your legs off his waist, making you face the railing, and the city in front of you. You gasp as he roughly positioned your body, placing one leg up onto the rail, your two hands clutching onto the cold metal.
He slides into you again, but this time not allowing you to adjust. Toji immediately goes in with brutal force, your ass ripping against his pelvis as he drilled into you. On the balcony. For anyone to watch.
Toji spits again, his saliva falling onto your asshole and soon enough drips onto his cock that was continuously pounding in and out of you.
Your moans broke out into a giggle due to the ticklish feeling, Toji couldn’t help but smile at your reaction.
Both hands on your waist, Toji groans in pleasure and praises you non-stop for taking him like a good girl. His hand wrapped around your lower stomach as he felt you give in, your legs unable to support yourself. "You're doing so good for me," he whispers in to your ear, only to leave a trail of wet kisses down your back afterwards,
You moan continuously, for sure, everyone below could hear. Your hand made its way to Toji's nape, bringing him closer to you as he repeatedly fucked into your sweet spot.
"I’d do anything to be able to see a view like this one for the rest of my life," his left hand made its way down to your clit, lazily rubbing circles.
This just did it for you, lowly moaning, you let go of Tojis neck. Leaning forward, you rest your chin on the metal rail ontop of your same hands that were grabbing onto it. But a certain someone didn't let you do that.
Toji immediately grabbed you by your hair, pulling you back against his chest, taking your leg off the rail. You felt him interlock his hands around your inner elbow, suddenly fucking into you upwards as you grab onto his bicep for support.
"G-o-d Toji, please just f-u-ck your c-um into me." The enunciation of your words came out in bits, as Toji drilled up into you at a brutal pace.
He grinned against your necks skin, leaning further to plant kisses on your jaw."You want me to fill you with my cum, huh?"
You frantically nod, but that wasn't enough of an answer for a man like Toji.
"Oh baby, use your words." He purred into your ear, holding his orgasm to make sure you get it when you deserve it.
"I need it- I need it so ba-ad." You whimpered out, squeezing onto his bicep. "Please, Toji."
He whined, balls tightening as he heard you beg for him. You already drove him crazy, and that only drove him crazier. With one deep thrust, his movements come to a halt, allowing his warm, thick seed to fill you up completely.
Toji placed more kisses onto your back and your neck, making sure to never lose grip of you in case you go all jelly. Followed by him, slowly pulling his cock out of you, his load dripping out of your hole and onto the balcony flooring.
He stuck two of his fingers back into you, slowly fucking the load inside of you to make sure it stays inside. With his cum covered fingers, he slid the two of them past your lips and into your mouth. You sucked on them, humming as it covered your taste buds, and eventually swallowing.
Toji slapped your ass, and you yelped, giving him a glare. He chuckled before picking you back up bridal style, carrying you back inside the penthouse.
He gently and carefully placed you on the bed, quickly cleaning a bit of the mess you two made around the room.
"How about I go run us a nice bath, hmm?"
Fiddling with your thumbs, you watched as Toji neatly fold the pile of money together alongside the one on the night stand. Of course, it’s still yours. "That sounds good," You smiled as he walked over to give you a peck on the forehead.
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The dripping of water from the bath tap rang throughout the room, Toji leaning back against you as the two of you were in the tub. You squeezed a sponge over his abs, the hot water dripping down his skin as he closed his eyes.
"..Toji," you called out his name, and he hums back in response.
You gently rubbed the sponge up and down his arm, "Would you say this counts as me working overtime for you?"
He smiles, opening his eyes to look up at you. "I'll add another $500 bonus and a shopping spree if you ride me in this tub."
You scoff, letting go of the sponge as you sulk against the marble of the tub. "I'm literally stuffed with your cum. I think you had enough, thank you very much."
Toji only laughs, "Aren't you forgetting you got an asshole and that throat of yours? We can easily squeeze in three more rounds."
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⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷
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smackdownhotel · 6 months
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Tonight’s Special
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Corned beef 🥩 and cheese 🧀 grilled sandwich 🥪 with ritz chips and “asian” mayo
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aziraphale-rights · 10 months
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So, what is the deal with the world’s most conspicuously uneaten Eccles cakes? (A meta)
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Well, I wouldn’t say it’s bad writing, not even the on-purpose-as-a-secret-message kind. I agree there is a visual ‘loose thread’ here that the creators wanted us to notice, but I don’t think the meaning has anything to do with Metatron or the eventual plan for S3. I think the eccles cakes are all about what’s going on in this episode with Crowley and Aziraphale, and they’re unsettling in exactly the way they’re meant to be, even if we might not register the full implications consciously on first watch.
On the most straightforward level, this shot is the punchline to a joke set up by Aziraphale and Nina in the coffee shop. Crowley orders six shots of espresso, bound to get him all worked up and stressy. Aziraphale, who desperately wants Crowley to be thinking clearly when he learns about the Gabriel situation, says to Nina: ‘What do you sell that calms people down?’ And she replies: ‘Eccles cakes.’ From this moment on the cakes are a visual symbol of what Aziraphale needs from Crowley right now.
That’s why they get so much screentime as we cross the road and go into the shop. Aziraphale won't leave those eccles cakes behind because he’s still hoping that Crowley will respond to the request they represent: Please stay calm, please be patient and listen to me with empathy.
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But Crowley never does respond, and as he storms out we get that close-focus shot of the abandoned plate to make sure the subtext hits home. The cakes are framed sitting in front of the horse statue, brilliantly dressed up in Crowley's sunglasses, to remind us that they were brought there for him and he's dismissing them. (Crowley is the frantic horse who can't be managed!)
There’s another level to it, though, which doesn’t fully become clear until episode 6. The episode 1 meeting in Nina’s café is the first time that Aziraphale and Crowley share a scene in the present-day in S2, which means that the last time we saw them together was when they were dining at the Ritz. As viewers, we quickly recognise the visual language of their partnership: a table for two, a drink, a dessert. It feels familiar. But the food gets delivered and then nobody eats it. On that level, it is a set-up without a pay-off and it really niggles as you watch. S1 closed out their relationship with a happy toast after a resplendent dinner; S2 opens it with a snack that gets ignored. The dynamics of who offers food to whom are also off, atypical. It’s a sign of how things are going to go later on, hinting at the fact their dynamic is dysfunctional right now, even though it might seem OK on the surface.
Which brings me, finally, on to the other thing I’ve wanted to point out…
The punchline is that Crowley doesn’t eat the eccles cakes, but the really subconsciously disconcerting thing is that Aziraphale doesn’t. That he seemingly never planned to, and never orders anything for himself. In fact, we don’t see Aziraphale eat anything substantial in any of the present-day scenes in S2. The only things he consumes onscreen are sherry, tea, and a travel sweet. (Oh, and Manipulation Coffee, which is definitely a callback to Crowley’s disastrous sextuple-espresso.) We see him with food, yes, but primarily he wants to give it to other people.
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For me this little detail of S2 – not something you even fully notice until you think about it – is a very telling understated cue in terms of Aziraphale’s post-Heaven state of mind. It's about what amuseoffyre puts so well in another meta: 'the whole series looks like he’s having so much fun doing silly human things, but there’s this brittleness to it.' At first glance, we see Aziraphale interacting with food and assume he is now living the happy Earthly life we wanted for him, but on closer inspection he's not engaging much in the pleasure of eating for his own sake. He gets a quick sweet pick-me-up on his way somewhere else in the Bentley - all alone - and that's it. He's too anxious, too busy, he doesn't have time. Crowley doesn't have time to invite him for lunch.
I find it fascinating that Gabriel gets a squillion cups of cocoa in this season, waxing all lyrical about them, and Aziraphale gets none. Aziraphale's mug becomes Jim's mug, even. And he mostly makes the tea to show Muriel how to blend in. In short, S2 Aziraphale is terribly preoccupied with looking after/managing others, and not taking the time to look after himself. Like the Maggie and Nina match-making, all that kindly treat-offering is displacement, displacement, displacement.
No wonder it all goes wrong.
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cathkaesque · 2 years
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When it comes to understanding migration, this needs to be taken into account: if you are in a rural area in the global south, like Honduras, you have basically no access to social services, medicine, and education. In fact, the funding for those services is actually being cut, as the social security funds have been looted by corrupt politicans appointed by a military coup. Then you have to factor in that you likely have no access to the land, and no access to credit to buy seeds, and have to sell yourself for basically pennies to an agroindustrial giant. The peasants feed the local people; the agroindustries feed the Americans. In Guatamala, there is a neo-corporate fuedalism where you are allowed a patch of land if you are willing to work, unpaid, for coffee plantations which sell their produce to the German company Ritz. If you attempt to settle unoccupied land, a local businessman will claim it is his without any proof, and the police will take his side because the Agrarian Reform Institute, which issues land titles, is controlled by coupists whose main concern is squeezing as much wealth out of the country as possible. Thugs will murder a man and his wife in broad daylight, and the judge will respond by evicting you and your family from the land.
There is nowhere else for you to go but Tegucigalpa, where you can work trying to wash car windows or selling snacks to passing cars for a handful of lempira a day. Or perhaps you could work for a few dollars a day in one of the maquila factories making textiles for the American and European market, which are set up in special economic zones called Charter Cities where the constitution and labour laws do not apply, which can close down and spirit away whenever they like to another country when they are more willing to sell their people for even less. And then you have to factor in the hurricanes that sweep through the country, destroying everything, that the rains no longer come when they used to but when they do they come in flooding torrents. Much of the north of Honduras is currently underwater; most of the banana and coffee plantations have been destroyed.
And then you factor in when you tried to change this via electing a better government in 2006, he was overthrown in 2009; when you tried to get organised and resist the coup, your friends, your loved ones, your trade union leaders and peasant resisters all turned up mysteriously dead while the military and police worked with drug gangs disguised as agribusiness like the Dinant coproration to burn down villages that opposed them. For trying to change things in the way that you were supposed to, through non violently protesting, organising, and voting for something better, you were subjected to a decade of counterrevolutionary terror and violence that the “international community” not only ignored but gave its active approval to. All of the factors listed above have not only been ongoing for the last 10 years, they’ve been intensified, hothoused by the global counterrevolutionary terror that was the response to the 2011 wave of post-financial crisis uprisings and revolutions and accelerating climate apocalypse.
And at the same time, all of this is being done so more of the country can be turned into a massive cash cow for the benefit of foreign corporations and domestic oligarchs. The wealth of your country is siphoned off and flows around the American and European financial system, benefiting them and building a consumer disneyland that looks like paradise compared to your situation. That could, even if you are worked for nothing, give you a few dollars to send home that could build your abuela in the countryside a nice home for her to live out her days. What other option is left for you and your family other than joining the exodus of people heading north, to the countries where the wealth and profits and rewards of your homeland’s suffering are being kept. And after you cross mountains and rivers which freeze you to death and sweep you away, you are faced with a massive border wall of ahte and soldiers on horses which hit you with sticks. You are faced with an immigration detention centre that will chain you to your bed while you give birth and separate you from your baby who will be given away for adoption to a white couple. When you make a charge against the border fence in Melilla, fed up with being kept in shacks with nothing while the Northerners debate what to do about the problem people their greed has forced to move, the Moroccan police will beat 35 of you to death.
And then when you get there to that golden paradise, you end up doing work not dissimilar to the work you were doing back home, working for pennies (though pennies that are valuable enough back home to buy the family that remain the tiniest slice of comfort) for an agroindustrial giant that supplies supermarkets with cheap produce picked by cheaper people. While you work in the fields, a crop duster plane will spray you with paraquat; when support organisations try to raise this with OSHA they will ask for the plane’s number, and when this can’t be provided they will say nothing can be done. In fact, inspectors are ordered to stay away from the plantations on the Texas border. A member of the Border Agricultural Workers Project says she hasn’t seen a normal child born on the border in 20 years, such is the effect of agrichemicals. If you fuck up in the slightest, have any interaction with the state, you will be deported and sent back to square one. There are a 14 million migrants in the US in the same precarious state, effectively without any way of enforcing their rights. My aunt is a Mexican migrant in California. Her son was deported because he got a speeding ticket. It was 15 years before she saw him again, other than through the bars of the border fence, when she finally got her green card.
The situation in Honduras can be repeated for almost any other country. Syria, Venezuela, Iraq, South Sudan, Libya, all the headline countries are countries that have been subjected to a severe counterrevolutionary terror. The processes of dispossession and destruction of peasant economies and communities (primitive accumulation to use the Marxist jargon) have been hothoused over the last decade by war and violence. I just wish that relatively comfortable people in the imperialist countries realised that the “migrant crisis” is the result of policies that their governments forced on others. Violence that their elites made their fortunes off. What a monstrous, barbarous way of life we have.
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