[Hey, just for the day, we’ll pretend I’m made of money. I’ll be your sugar daddy. - Dance Gavin Dance] Gran has finally graduated(?) from an idol of the prestigious Gran Cypher Entertainment and signed a new contract as solo artist. With all this newfound freedom from the idol lifestyle, Gran plans to party hard with tables and bottles of Dom Perignon. He is no longer baby, he wants power.
THANK U JESSICA 4 THIS PROMPT OF SELF LUV U UNDERSTAND ME SO WELL
The Ideal Idol.
The Eternal Valentine.
The Singularity of the Music Industry.
The Captain of All.
There were many phrases drummed up by journalists and squealed by adoring fans to describe the one and only Gran of Gran Cypher Entertainment. As leader of GC Entertainment’s newly debuted boyband SPARK, he already had to be front and center for variety show appearances, interviews, and the like. However, with his boyish looks, incredible vocals, mastery of dance, commanding stage presence, and captivating personality, it did not take long for many fans within the Japanese idol community to take immediate notice of his rise in popularity.
His merch always being the first to sell out, tv producers practically fighting one another to have him so much as cameo in their newest drama, and more.
A promising future in the entertainment industry was practically assured. He need only say the word.
And so, when it came time for Gran to make his highly publicized graduation out of GC Entertainment, he had his eyes set on a solo career with the famed Crystal Records.
The nation’s idol was taking his first big step towards becoming his own artist.
And he was doing so by taking a grand stand atop a VIP table of a Vegas nightclub, pumping his fist into the air as he proceeded to chug back a bottle of Dom Perignon while the performing DJ was blasting some sexy EDM remix of Paradise Lost. The surrounding crowd of Americans--all unaware of his pristine, clean image back in Japan--cheered and jeered in support of his stranger who seemed to be paying top dollar for a fun night.
Champagne bottles, platters of hors d'oeuvres and sushi--there was a feast all on Gran’s black card to commemorate his newfound freedom from his idol days and to give thanks to his management team for their guidance throughout his career up until now and beyond.
You didn’t feel thanked.
Rather, you felt stressed.
Quite stressed.
From the day that SPARK was selected, you were assigned to be Gran’s personal manager. Wherever he went, you would go--all to make sure he kept to his schedule and was on his best behavior. Of course, given that you both were rather close in age, your professional relationship became more relaxed and at ease. You saw firsthand the struggle to keep up to such an inane perfect ideal as an idol that he faced, and you did your best to give him time to unwind, whether time to sleep in or indulging his desire to sneak out for a fun night around Tokyo.
This closeness was why he almost turned down Crystal Records’s initial contract upon hearing that they would assign him to new management. He would only allow his signature to glide along the paper if you came with him.
And so it was done.
And it was why you were standing in this club, watching what was basically immediate grounds for the end of an idol’s career unfold before your very eyes.
No wonder he insisted on celebrating in Vegas.
To the other clubgoers, he just looked like some rich influencer balling out.
To you, it was the sight of Japan’s most cherished idol freely handing out retirement savings to all sorts of unscrupulous paparazzi.
It was almost inevitable that he was about to literally begin to rock out with his cock out.
You had to act fast.
Though Gran didn’t have to abide by idol standards anymore, you refused to see his solo career to be tainted in debauchery by the work of Instagram Live.
One moment you were at the other end of the club, the next you were halfway at the center by the poolside bar, asking for napkins and a pen from the bartender.
When it came to the idol industry, far too often did you have to create NDAs on the spot to ensure and protect the image of your idols. Never once did you step into law school, but you were familiar with striking down any potential leaks.
With your makeshift agreements in hand, you were ready to hunt down anyone who was taking pictures of Gran’s shameless display.
Your eyes shifted over to the table he reserved for tonight’s party.
He wasn’t there any longer.
“Just a step behind, manager.”
Because one of his arms was busy slinging around your shoulder, hugging you close to his side as you were quickly led away from the bar towards one of the nearby poolside cabanas--another special rental for tonight’s celebration.
Heat quickly rose to your cheeks. Both out of fear and a feeling of something that only he was privy to. Your head turned around while your fingers clawed at your stack of napkins, alarmed as you looked around to see if anyone--mere clubgoer or sneaky paparazzi--was looking your way.
“G-Gran! What are you doing--?!” You gasped out to him above the deafening club music and the chatter of the crowd. “How drunk are you that you’re doing this?!”
He only grinned toothily as he opened the tent flap, ushering you in while his hand stayed on the small of your back. “I’m not drunk, I’m alive!”
Gran entered after you.
As the opening flap of the cabana fell closed behind him, he immediately brought his hands up to your cheeks and drew you in for a kiss.
The two of you were close after all.
“Gra— Gran…!” The gasp of his name was muffled between your mouths, his tongue swiping at your bottom lip. Your body was quickly ensnared within his grasp, his arms toned from years dedicated to staying in shape for his years as an idol. Hands that left fans buckling with a mere wave were now roaming over your body, finding much indulgence in squeezing your ass or grabbing at your breasts.
It wasn’t until you felt the slight brush of a napkin against your leg that you realized that you dropped your makeshift NDAs in the process, suddenly making you aware of what you were doing and who you were doing this with.
You pulled away with a weak whine. “We’re still in public—!”
He pursued and kissed you over and over, a grin plastered on his lips. “Who’s to say that everyone out there wouldn’t do the same if they had the chance?”
His fingers ran over the fabric of your dress, brushing at the hem as he teased, “I got this dress for you because I wanted to celebrate, and yet you were still working.” With you still in his arms, he guided you over to a nearby wicker sofa, having you lay across the ivory cushion on top as he hovered above you, gazing down into your eyes with a mischievous expression. “Bad girl~”
As his manager, you were the one to always guide him along his career path, making sure he followed up on his schedule as an idol while giving him space as needed.
But Gran was a leader for a reason.
And he reminded you of this as his fingers tugged down at the neckline of your dress while hiking up its hem.
Fanservice for hands was common for his days as an idol, with him being an expert of winking at a camera during a televised performance, or murmuring a tender line of romance to an audience of adoring fans during a variety show appearance.
But nothing he did publicly could compare to how effortlessly he made you melt with the filth he spoiled you with as the two of you remained locked in your own little world together as the party outside raged on.
“Manager’s pretty nipples--” He groaned in-between noisy suckles and kisses along your breasts, his lips clamped around your hardened peaks, all while his hips ground against yours, making sure you felt the weight of his clothed, erect cock through the flimsy material of your panties, of which were soon removed afterwards.
Were it not knowing that he would only tease and torture you further if you proceeded to do so, you wanted to hide your face in embarrassment--even now, it was still just so much to have the nation’s idol be so dirty towards you.
Especially when it came time for when his desire for you could not wait any further, with the hasty unbuckle of his belt and the tug of his zipper before you felt the hot, drippy tip of his cock nudge and slide against your dribbling center as he groaned out, “--manager’s pretty pussy.” With adoration in his eyes, he then breathed out with reverence as he drank in the sight of your disheveled state. “Everything about you is pretty.”
“You are too much,” you shuddered with a whine, the barrage of his relentless sweetness. “To think I let you get away with practically everything.”
“‘Too much?’” He repeated curiously with a chuckle. “Are you saying you want less? Because I’m pretty sure you want more, right…!”
His hands grabbed hold of your waist as he sheathed his cock inside you fully in one thrust. The squeal of his name on your lips and the adrenaline of partying so hard had him wasting no time to begin pounding away into your core with heavy, hearty thrusts. With a twinkle in his eyes, he admired how precious you looked as you were left to grab at the cushion of the sofa beneath you, all while humming out, “I guess it’s only reasonable that I behave like I do when my manager is so naughty~”
“Gran--!” This man was just too damn good.
His lips were all over yours again, a mix of tender love and shameless desire with each kiss. “No matter where we go from here together, that’s the sound I always wanna hear above anything else in the world!”
It was nearing 3 AM at this point, but as everyone in the club continued to party the night away, so would you and Gran as the both of you celebrated not just his newfound solo career, but a new chapter where he was no longer bound to his duties and expectations of an idol, but to being his own individual, one who would eagerly and happily proclaim his love for you soon enough.
Because while everyone beneath the blue sky saw Gran as their one true idol, there was no one in the world who idolized you like him.