#usher remix was the best one so this was good to see | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

separatist-apologist · 3 years

Note

Honestly whatever works best for you ^^ I just like seeing jealous Lucien

This ask was for jealous Lucien. It's sort of a remix of Elain riling Lucien up, wherein they actually DO stuff. it is NSFW, 18+, and "edited".

Also I like my little Feyre/Lucien moment. I HC them as pranksters

Lucien was later than he’d meant to be, walking into Solstice. He was still reeling from his day with Elain, stunned that Nuan had been right, and her plan had worked.

She wants you, Nuan had murmured halfway through the larger meeting Lucien had glanced over at Elain, carefully arranging stems across the hall on a glass table.

He’d rolled his eyes, but Nuan insisted.

Let me help you make her jealous.

He’d kissed her hand and now he wanted to kiss every other part of her. He’d settle for polite conversation and maybe a little hand holding. He was nervous, like a young male about to touch his first female. Elain had never given him the time of day before and Lucien wanted to get things right.

He ran his hands down his sage green jacket for the millionth time, his boots echoing off the marble in Feyre’s home. He followed the sound of chatter to a drawing room and paused in the doorway. His eyes immediately found Elain standing beside Azriel, gazing up at him with sweet, doe eyes…her hand on his forearm.

He was so fucking tired of seeing the pair of them. Jealousy burned in his gut and he almost turned around and left. Feyre caught him, perhaps reading his thoughts, and looped her arm through his.

“Will you help me with something?” She asked conspiratorially, walking him out of the cozy drawing room.

“How could I say no?” He replied easily, his mind still back with Elain and Azriel.

“I want to put snow in Rhys’ side of the bed,” she confessed, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “He’s been shoving it down the back of my clothes for days now and I haven’t been able to repay him.”

“Because he’s so tall, or you love him so much?” Lucien asked dryly

“Don’t be gross, of course it’s because he’s tall,” Feyre shot back quickly. “I tried his pants but he’s just a little too fast—”

“That’s quite enough. Of course I’ll help you prank your mate. Let’s go to the kitchen for some bowls, though.”

“Smart, I didn’t think of that,” Feyre said with a happy smile.

For the next hour, he and Feyre giggled quietly as they scooped up frozen snow in metal bowls and snuck through the River House. They put the snow on Feyre’s side of the bed, creating a snow person shaped like her body they hoped a very naked Rhys would attempt to cuddle up next to. Lucien didn’t want to think about what Feyre and her mate did in their alone time but he had to admit, it was fun conspiring with Feyre again.

By the time she walked him back to the drawing room, they were pink cheeked from the cold and still quietly chuckling to themselves. Rhys was instantly curious, not that it mattered. Lucien was almost relieved to see Elain had left though Azriel remained behind, standing with Cassian and Mor discussing who knew what. Lucien went to a little loveseat, still amused when he froze.

Elain was there, looking up at him with those same wide eyes. Ah, fuck, he thought, about to turn and find another place to warm up. She scooted, patting the cushion beside her and Lucien couldn’t resist.

She was so gorgeous, her hair curled gently down her back and spilling over her shoulders in a long-sleeved, off shoulder gown of lilac. He wanted to feel hopeful, but her eyes slid past him towards Azriel and Lucien wasn’t stupid. He recognized when he was being used as bait. He nearly rose, nearly left entirely but she set her small hand on his knee and Lucien quickly changed tracks.

She might want to make another male jealous but there was something between them. He could smell her anticipation. He didn’t know what had transpired between the pair of them, if anything had, for that matter given how determined Azriel seemed to be at not looking at her. It didn’t matter. If she wanted to play games, Lucien was leave knowing she was utterly covered in his scent. There would be no mistaking who she belonged with…who she was mated to.

“Are you having a good evening?” He asked, unable to take his eyes off her hand sliding slowly up his thigh. He was so, so hard just from one little touch.

“I am,” she agreed, looking up at him again. Good. He wanted her to keep her eyes on him. “And you, Lord?”

“It’s certainly looking up,” he replied truthfully. Feyre glanced at Lucien and he heard her in his mind.

You two look cozy. Want us to leave for a bit?

He hated when she did that, when she spoke to him mind to mind, worried that she knew every little thing he’d ever thought. This time, though, he was a little grateful for it.

If no one minds.

He heard Feyre chuckle in his head. I promise you, no one minds. I don’t think she’d notice if we left at all…

Feyre withdrew and Lucien looked fully back at Elain, her eyes wholly focused on his face, pink lips parted, her hand so close to his aching cock he felt half insane. He reached for her neck, his hands twining in her hair as he tilted her head towards him. Lucien glanced up when Elain’s eyes fluttered shut, watching as Feyre silently ushered people from the room. His lips curved into a smile and he nodded his thanks to Feyre once before she left, too, closing the door quietly behind her.

Elain sucked in a soft breath, angling her head. He couldn’t resist. He didn’t care if she had started all this to make Azriel jealous. She’d failed on that account though she’d very much succeeded in making Lucien jealous. He ghosted his lips over her own, delighted when she gasped a little, her fingernails digging into his thighs.

“It looks like everyone left us,” he told her, his mouth pressed against her jaw. Her eyes flew open and Lucien, still holding her head, let her turn just long enough to look at the now empty room. The only sound besides their breathing was the cheerful crackling of the fire and the soft hum of the wind tapping on the glass.

“I didn’t notice,” she admitted, proving her younger sister right. Lucien’s heart picked up at the admission, hope re-blooming in his chest. He smiled at her, rubbing his nose against her own. She reached up, cupping his cheek and Lucien was half-lost. He brought his mouth back to hers, kissing her for the first time. It was nothing like he’d imagined, and he had spent years wondering what she might feel like, how she’d taste.

She was better in real life he thought with a soft sigh. Like lavender and honey and warm, sunlit air all combined and mixed with something personal, something uniquely Elain that was sweet and inviting. She opened her mouth for him, surprising him again when her tongue very hesitantly licked against his own.

She moaned and Lucien was fully gone, utterly done. He was going to have her on this too small couch. He couldn’t walk, not with the erection he was currently sporting and especially not with the way her arousal was slowly curling through the air around them. He couldn’t think straight anymore, kissing her with more intensity than he might have. He leaned her back, one hand on the column of her pretty throat as he shoved his knee between her legs, parting them both.

“What do you want, Elain?” He asked before licking up the smooth, soft skin of her throat, his other hand holding her by the hip. Her eyes flashed open, dark with desire.

“You,” she breathed, dragging him back down to kiss her again. Did she knew the affect she had on him, he wondered idly a moment before her hips rubbed against his thigh? She moaned softly against his lips, her eyes closed again.

Would Feyre forgive him for fucking her sister in the drawing room? He hoped so, he thought to himself, devouring her mouth with a hunger that surprised even him. His fantasies could not compete with the real thing.

He ran a hand over her breast, hidden beneath glittery fabric. Elain arched into his hand, moaning softly again. He’d kill to hear her make that notice again, he thought desperately. More, more, more, the bond between them crooned, demanding satisfaction. Elain, too, seemed to be demanding it, given how her hips rolled against his thigh. There was not enough space to spread her out the way he wanted to. They’d have to move.

Lucien withdrew, pleased at the disappointed mewl that escaped her throat.

“Not for long, sweet dove,” he promised, pulling her easily into his arms. Her dress covered his tented trousers and her weight helped ground him back to reality, to slow him down just a bit. Her mouth on his neck, nipping the skin, didn’t make walking any easier, and leaving the drawing room for the bedroom Feyre had offered was difficult, given how badly instinct made him want to slam her against a wall and bury himself within her.

They passed her family, not that she noticed. Feyre pressed a hand over her mouth and Rhys actually winked, which made Lucien almost laugh. The jealous monster that still roared in his chest settled when Azriel, too, glanced their way, catching sight of Elain utterly lost, one hand in his hair, her mouth still licking his skin. What had he been so worried about, he wondered, half jogging up the steps that led to the hall he slept in?

He placed on her his bed with as much reverence as he felt in that moment and Elain sat up quickly, eyes wide. He froze, expecting her to tell him no, that they’d taken this too far and she wanted to leave.

Her fingers found the buttons of his jacket and with a nimble quickness, managed to undo them before he could inhale and exhale. She shoved them down his arms and without any hesitation, pulled his shirt out of his pants and attempted to yank it over his head. Lucien helped, utterly stunned with the image of his mate undressing him with hurried determination. He didn’t stop her when her fingers, trembling now, reached for the laces of his pants though he did gently pull them away when, having gotten them undone, she attempted to yank them off his hips. She was still fully clothed and the part of him that was still a gentleman knew he might be tempted to just flip her skirts up and have her without any other care of consideration.

He heard her swallow when, having divested himself of his boots, he climbed up the bed. He reached behind her for the little pearl buttons on her dress and undid them much slower than she had, reveling in each new inch of skin he revealed. Lucien dragged his hands down her shoulders when he finished, taking the dress with him until she her underthings were exposed, her dress pooled at her waist. He watched as she shimmied out of it, tossing it to his floor. It took her merely a moment to remove her under things as well, leaving her utterly exposed.

“Elain,” he breathed, gently guiding her back to the bed, unable to take his eyes off the peaks and curves of her beautiful, soft body. He almost asked if she’d done this before but the memory of snide, stupid Graysen strutting about flashed through his memory and he knew he might become overwhelmingly possessive if she admitted he’d ever touched her.

Some questions were better left unknown. He simply did not care how many lovers she had or if she’d had none at all. He’d pretend she hadn’t and let her set the pace.

“Now will you remove your pants?” She asked him, her voice catching in her throat. They were hanging embarrassingly low on his hips as it was, hardly keeping him modest and the fabric was beginning to chafe the crown of his cock. Lucien sighed, disappointed to climb off her and slid them down his body, well aware of how her eyes zoomed to the appendage bobbing between his legs. He wished he knew what she thought in that moment, if she found him lacking or not.

She gestured for him to come back, and Lucien obliged, hardly able to keep himself away. This was happening, he thought dazedly, his mouth covering her own again. Elain’s hands slipped up his chest and over his shoulders, her nails dragging down his back. He groaned even as he palmed at her now naked breast, desperate to feel her naked body arch against his own.

She gasped when he rolled her nipple between his fingers, her hips lifting off the bed. He was slowly being driven mad by every little noise that left her lips.

Taste, taste, taste his instincts chanted. She didn’t pull away when his head dipped to her chest so he could take that same delicate, pebbled nipple and roll it along his tongue. She squirmed, her nails digging into his flesh in the most deliciously painful way. More of that, his thoughts begged. The idea that his mate might instinctively know what he liked and how he wanted to be fucked was exciting to him.

She writhed against him when he took the other breast into his mouth, lavishing attention even as she ground against the bare thigh he had pressed against the heat of her cunt. His eyes rolled into the back of his head at the slickness she left on his skin, growling softly in appreciation.

“Please,” she begged, lifting her hips again and fuck did he want to take her up on the offer. His hand was gliding down her body and when he dipped one finger into the source of her wet he half died right then and there. She clenched hard around him, the sensation shooting straight into his cock.

“Taste you,” he said desperately, trying to position himself between her hips but Elain screamed with frustration and yanked him by his hair, pulling him back up.

“Later,” she bossed, her kiss a demand. He wanted to taste her so bad it was almost painful.

“Please,” it was his turn to beg.

“Fuck me, Lucien,” she ordered and Lucien’s eyes rolled straight into his skull. Later implied they would do this again, slower, perhaps all night even. He notched himself against her slick opening, groaning at the silky, hot feel of her.

It had been his intention to go slow. He slid in an inch and Elain offered him another soft scream, stopping him dead. She hooked her legs around his waist, dug her heels into his ass, and pushed, slamming him to the hilt within her.

Holy fuck, he thought, dazed. His Lady was practically wanton, he thought with pleasure, watching as her hips arched to meet his next thrust, her eyes half-wild with lust.

“Been thinking of me, have you?” He grunted out, his thrusts almost punishing in their intensity.

“Mm hmm,” she wined, her breath coming in short, shallow pants.

“Tell me,” he demanded, trying to fight back the urge to spill himself inside her like an untested youth. His hand slid between them, his thumb rubbing careful, precise circles over her clit.

“At night,” she gasped. “In bed.”

“Touching yourself?” He asked, needing to know.

“Mm hmm,” she keened, her voice rising an octave. He sped up, both his hips and his hand, dragging her to the edge.

“What do you want?” He demanded again.

“You,” she begged. “Lucien, you, you—” Her words were lost to a scream, so loud he was sure the whole house heard. Lucien snarled with pleasure, still rubbing as he fucked her, driving himself deeper still, desperate to be as close as he could.

“Lucien,” she half sobbed, her body trembling around him, her nails digging so hard into his skin he could scent blood in the air.

“Again,” he told her, his voice rich with authority. She tossed her head side to side. When she came again, the walls of her cunt slick with fluid as the fluttered tightly around him, Lucien couldn’t hold back any longer. His own pleasure burned beneath his skin, coiled tightly in his gut desperate for release. Every part of him tingled wildly. He thrust hard, deep, and pumped his release into her, snarling loudly with satisfaction. This was home, his mind screamed. She was home.

When his body relaxed, Lucien carefully lowered his body to hers. She pressed a lazy kiss to his mouth.

“Again,” he murmured against her lips. She giggled in response.

“Let me breathe, first,” she asked, her chest still rising and falling rapidly. Lucien couldn’t bring himself to pull out of her, to leave her.

So he stayed, nuzzling his head into her shoulder while Elain worked to catch her breath. Minutes passed, timed only by the synced beats of their heart.

“Okay,” she whispered after who knew how long. “Again.”

#elucien fanfic #elucien prompt #elucien smut #elucien #elain x lucien #lucien x elain #feyre/lucien friendship hour #jealous lucien is elite #i like it better than jealous elain tbh

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maliby · 4 years

Text

Ride ~ jjk (m)

↬ Pairing: Jungkook x Fem. Reader ↬ Story Genre: stripper!au, SMUT, PWP ↬ Warnings: explicit language, explicit sex scenes ↬ Word count: 5.2K ↬ Summary: It all started with Jungkook inviting you for his new performance tonight. It all ended with you and Jungkook fucking like rabbits in the back room.

A/N: THIS is what Jeon Jungkook makes me do. I was in the middle of writing a new chapter for When the Night Comes and I just could stop my urges to destroy him in that fucking outfit. Anyways....hope all my fellow hoes enjoy <3

P.S.- If you want that extra umph in the strip scene, please listen to the song “Usher - Trading Places”, I promise you it’s double worth it ;)

You looked at the text message Jungkook had sent you as you were on your Uber to ‘The G Spot’. A wicked grin spread on your face as you felt your excitement grow with the thought of his performance.

You first met Jungkook when you were out drowning your sorrows in vodka. Your boyfriend of five years had dumped you because you spent too much time at your new job and you ended up spending the night in Jungkook’s bed.

That night he told you he was a male performer of some sorts that went by the stage name ‘Rider’ at the famous ‘G Spot’ club. He’d do some sexy performances on stage (most of the time they were themed) but, some times, he’d also work as a gigolo. Clients would pay to take him to one of the back rooms and, if he was interested in the client and/or the money they were offering, he’d have sex with them. Since then, you’d become a pretty regular customer of the club and Jungkook.

“We’re here miss,” the Uber driver mentioned, interrupting your thoughts.

“Thank you.” You left the car and looked up at the big purple neon sign saying ‘The G Spot’. You took out your purse to retrieve your membership card and walked right in, immediately showing it to the bouncer that then confirmed your identity.

“Y/N!” The familiar voice of the owner Maria greeted you as soon as you entered. “Rider mentioned you’d be popping by,” she smirked.

“Hi, honey!” You gave her a quick hug and followed her to the bar, watching her start working on your usual vodka cranberry. “Sugar told me he had a very special performance and wanted me to watch.”

“And you couldn’t miss it,” she teased as she slid you the glass with your drink.

“Well, you’ve seen him,” you took a sip and hummed, signalling that you liked the taste of the drink.

“Oh, believe me, if I wasn’t his boss I’d definitely give him something to ride if you know what I mean,” you choked at her confession, sharing a good laugh with her.

“Right sweety, you better go sit, the show’s about to start.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to lose my spot. When is he coming on?”

“First Black Magic is gonna take the stage and Rider will be right after him,” Maria told you as she cleaned the balcony of the bar.

The news came as a surprise to you. Usually, Jungkook would close the show since he was one of, if not the best, performers in the club. The news was especially weird since he said he had a new routine and normally when that happened he would always close the show.

“He’s second?!” The look of surprise on your face probably came as no surprise to Maria. In fact, you were sure it didn’t due to her expression of understanding.

“Yeah, I don’t know why either. He begged me to be second and usually, I’m really particular about the show but since it was him I accepted. That and V Jay and RoMeo have a special number prepared for tonight, so I let them be last.”

“Weird…” You both stood in silence for a few seconds before you remembered you had to go get your seat before someone else did. “Well, I’m gonna take a sit.” You pointed to the chairs and booths and gave her a small smile.

“Go, go, honey. Enjoy the show!” She waved you goodbye before she turned to get a customer’s order.

You sat down right at the front - as Jungkook had instructed - and waited for a few minutes while you sipped on your drink.

About ten minutes later the show started. You had watched Black Magic perform before and even though he wasn’t as good as the other guys (seeing that he was quite new to this) he still managed to get you all hot and bothered.

Tonight he was doing his ‘Anaconda’ performance. He walked in dressed as a zookeeper with a fake anaconda on his shoulders and once his Anaconda remix commenced playing he started to slide the fake snake all over his body. Then he began to undress, revealing his delicious oily chocolate abs and climbed off the stage making his way to you. He put the fake snake around your neck and pulled you towards him so your face was right in his abs.

“Lick,” he ordered in a low raspy voice, getting you all hot and bothered.

You obliged.

You licked him from the hem of his shorts up to his pecks, the crowd around you going wild. He tasted coconutty, and you were pretty sure he had spread coconut oil on his body before the show.

After making the rounds to a few more girls Black Magic went back on stage and that’s when he took his shorts off, standing in just his g-string and showing off the outline of the ‘Anaconda’ between his legs.

Soon, he started humping everything on stage, simulating sex in such an erotic way that had all the people in the audience in a complete trance.

He was good. You had to give him that, but he was not Rider. Rider could completely destroy you just with his eyes. Just those feral looks he gave were more than enough to make you hump the fucking chair.

You completely spaced out thinking about Rider and when you came back to it everyone was clapping, making you realize that Black Magic had finished his performance. When your eyes focused on the performer he was already leaving the stage, taking his money and clothes with him.

You called for the waiter and pointed to your empty glass, signalling him that you’d like another vodka cranberry - you needed to feel the buzz of the alcohol if you ever were planning on surviving Rider’s performance tonight.

The drink came and you immediately drank half of it, feeling the build-up of anticipation. You didn’t know why but you were starting to get nervous, your leg bouncing up and down. You decided you’d go check Instagram as you waited, but as soon as you opened the app the lights turned down and focused on one spot on the curtains.

“Ladies and gentleman, are you ready to have the ride of your life?” You chuckled at the announcer’s silly pun. The audience around you rilled up, already deciphering from his pun who was coming up next. Rider sure was a fan favourite.

“Then I want to hear you scream loud and clear for Rideeeeer!”

The crowd went wild, but not as wild as your beating heart. Something about this performance was telling you you were about to be in for a crazy ride and when the song “Trading Places” by Usher started playing you knew you were absolutely right.

When Rider opened up the curtain and came onto the stage your jaw dropped. He was wearing a loose leopard print shirt that had a ‘v-cut’ so low you could see part of his defined chest and abs. On top of that, he was wearing a loose flowy red robe with black details that matched the colour of his pants, the latter ones though, being so tight you could see every little detail of his meaty thighs. His hair was loosely sleeked back, a stray piece of hair dangling right in front of his killer eyes.

“Fuck,” you muttered as you took in the view.

Rider was handsome, there was never any doubt in that, but this fucking outfit? You were damn sure every single pussy in this place was wet just by staring at him.

Hey, I know what you’ used to We gon’ do something different tonight

Rider started walking to the centre of the stage as if he was a tiger ready to pounce. The lethal look on his eyes made you think of all the times he looked at you like that, like he was about to fucking devour you - which he did.

Now we gonna do this thing a lil' different tonight You gon' come over and pick me up in your ride

He spread his legs almost in a squat position, emphasizing his thick thighs, and ran his hand from his chest all the way down to his crotch. He grabbed his crotch and looked straight at the audience, making a ‘come here’ sign with his other hand - the crowd went wild.

After this, he gave a little twirl and slid half of his dark red robe off (letting it stay in the middle of his arms) and started body rolling. Your throat got dry, making you swallow your own saliva.

Nobody body rolled like him. He was so fluid and sharp at the same time. The combination of his sinful body movements and his facial expressions being the added bonus. You could swear he could make anyone want him - you sure did.

Then everything stopped for you. He looked you right in the eyes and, at that same instant, you felt a wave of arousal slid past your folds and straight to your panties.

He smirked.

He knew the power he had over you. He knew he had you wrapped around his finger and all he had to do was to say when and where.

Then, he started to seductively walk towards the stairs - he was coming down to the audience.

He kept looking straight at you as he made his way down the stairs and you felt your heartbeat rise - he was coming in your direction.

You started to smile like an idiot until he walked right past you and went to the table right next to yours. The group of five friends on a bachelorette party went ecstatic (as you would) while you on the other hand felt nothing but annoyance. He was toying with you. Teasing was Rider’s favourite game, a game which he would often play with you and it drove you absolutely mad.

He made his way to the bride and practically straddled her, taking in her hands and making her feel his defined abs as he body rolled.

I'm always on the top tonight I'm on the bottom Cause we trading places When I can’t take no more, tell me you ain't stopping 'Cause we trading places

You shouldn’t be jealous, this was his job and you two had by no means a serious relationship but you hated the way he was toying with you. You also hated that your jealousy was exactly what he wanted.

Fucking Jeon Jungkook.

The bride’s screams got even louder as Rider got off of her and spread her legs. He supported himself on the chair’s arms and started to simulate sex with her, thrusting his hips towards her crotch.

Gon' get it, get it get it, get it get it, Gon' get it, get it get it, get it get it, Gon' get it, get it get it, get it get it.

Then, Rider got off from her and turned around, looking straight at you. Your heart jumped once more. He made his way towards you and this time he stopped right in front of you with a devious smile on his face. He straddled you, just like he did the girl before you and grabbed your hand, only this time he pulled his leopard shirt from underneath his pants and placed your hand on his bare skin.

You had felt up his abs a million times before, but the action never failed to make you all hot and bothered. His abs were a perfect six-pack, like a chocolate bar ready to be eaten up. You remember all the times you played with his abs as he has your fingers running up through each of his individual muscles.

One, two, three, four, five and six.

He then runs your hand lower so you could palm his hard cock.

You knew the dancers would pump up their dicks backstage so it would look extra big on stage and cause a better reaction, but by the way he was looking at you and biting his lip you couldn’t help but feel like he was horny because of you, and not some pump.

Then, he let’s go of your hand and rips his shirt wide open, now exposing all of his glossy defined muscles.

“Fuck.”

He removed his red robe and gave it a little twirl so the garment would become like a long scarf. He then softly ran the robe from your belly, straight between your cleavage and up your neck. The tingling sensation was so soft and arousing that you instantly felt your nipples perk up and the ache between your legs grow bigger, making you rub yourself on the chair.

He threw the robe onto the stage and got even closer to you, his covered crotch just centimetres away. Then, out of nowhere, and as a contrast to the soft movement of the robe, he grabs you by your hair and sharply hip thrusts to the sound of the music towards your mouth, simulating oral sex.

Gon' get it, get it get it, get it get it, Gon' get it, get it get it, get it get it, Gon' get it, get it get it, get it get it,

When you feel like you are ready to risk it all and suck him right there in front of everyone he lets go of your hair and turns around to go back on the stage. You let go of the breath you now realized were holding. This man was truly testing all your limits.

He got to stage and discarded his ruined leopard print shirt, now only having the form-fitting red pants on. He turns to the audience and mouths the line from the song: “Where you want me?”

The guitar starts playing and Usher starts moaning, and that’s when it all goes to shit. Rider does his signature move where he does a handstand and slowly comes down in a wave and starts fucking the floor.

Oh oh Oh oh You baby Give it to me baby Oh oh Oh oh

You cross your legs and can’t help but squeeze tight to alleviate the ache in your dripping core. The crowd was going wild, the screams getting louder but to you, it felt like you couldn’t even hear them; it felt like only you and Rider were there, and that he was showing off just for you.

The way in which his thrusts become more powerful, the way his veins on his muscular arms pop out, the way he imitates the moans at the same time as the vocalist’s were driving you insane and you were one step closer to just sneak your hand between your legs and play with yourself, not even caring about where you were.

After presumably making the floor pregnant, Rider changes positions and lays on his back. This time, instead of fucking the floor, he places his hands on an imaginary person on top of him and fucks the air instead, just as the song says:

You get on top tonight I'm on the bottom Cause we trading places When I can’t take no more, you say you ain't stopping 'Cause we trading places

As the instruments in the song start to quite down (signalling the ending of the song), Rider gets up and faces the audience with the most sinful grin. He teasingly pops the button of his pants and slides down the zipper, his bulgy dick expanding immediately under his white underwear. Then, he slides his hand under his underwear and shamelessly palms himself. If he wasn’t a professional who had all his angles studied, there was no way he could conceal his cock from the audience with just one hand, but he knew exactly what he was doing and you cursed him for it.

The song was about to end and you were curious about the big finish. Whatever it was, you were damn sure it would leave you gasping for air.

Sure enough, you were right.

Just as the instrumental hits its last notes, Rider gives one last teasing smirk and as he takes his dick out of its confinement the lights go out leaving, quite literally, everyone in the dark.

“Fuck,” you cursed at the show you just witnessed and the erotic sensations it brought in you.

This was why he wanted you to come so badly? To fucking tease you? That motherfucker. There was no way you could just sit there and watch. There was no fucking way you could just sit there and go back to your normal life - and you wouldn’t.

Downing the last of your drink you grabbed your purse and made your way to the owner Maria who was currently behind the bar.

When you requested the back room with Rider to Maria you were surprised to find out it had already been booked in your name - the owner smugly telling you that Rider had booked it for you.

You were pissed. Not in a bad way, but still fucking pissed.

You couldn’t help but pace around as you waited for Rider in the back room - sipping on a glass of champagne that came with the package. Your mind was racing, thinking about how he had invited you here, teased you beyond belief and booked you the back room alone with him without telling you. He knew you were going to cave, he knew you’d want a taste and it drove you fucking mad that he could manipulate you like that.

The sound of the door opening made you snap your head in its direction.

The first thing you notice is his exposed torso, Rider only wearing the red pants and robe from the performance earlier. The second was the fucking smug look on his face.

“Hey baby, did you enjoy the show?” He asked in a velvety voice after he closed the door and made his way to you to give you a kiss - you dodged. If he kissed you now, it would be game over for you, and you needed to make him suffer just like he did you.

“What the fuck was that?” You poked his chest with an accusatory finger, but he was so strong that he didn’t move.

“Just my new routine.” He pretended that he didn’t know what you were talking about, but the look on his face told a whole different story.

“Just your new routine?” You scoffed before you continued. “You tell me to come and sit in the first row. Then, you come in dressing like that,” you look down at his outfit to show what you were talking about but immediately regret it once you notice the tent in his tight pants. “You tease me like there’s no tomorrow and then you book this fucking room for me?”

“Don’t be silly Y/N, I just wanted to show you, as one of my best clients, my brand new act.” He took a brief pause before he continued again, this time in a slightly different tone, “And if I recall correctly, you weren’t the only one I teased.”

He tried to sound breezy but you saw right through his act. If he wanted to play then that was what he was going to get.

“Is that so?” You asked in a knowing tone, him just humming in response. “Well then, if I recall correctly, you weren’t the only one who teased me. Maybe I should go book a room with Black Magic instead.”

His whole expression changed. The playfulness in him was now completely gone, only a dark jealous look remaining.

He took several steps forward cornering you into a wall, excitement pooling down between your legs. “Don’t you fucking dare talk about another man.”

Any other day and you’d completely sub for him, a look from him being enough to have you on your knees but today...today you were feeling like you wanted to put up a fight. “Or what?”

He moved in closer to your ear to whisper: “Or I’ll use your pretty little pussy like my personal cum dumpster and leave you here with a creamy cunt that didn’t get the chance to orgasm.”

You tried to remain calm but your erratic breathing gave you away, making him chuckle. “You’d like that?”

When his hand touched your knee you couldn’t help but feel startled, his touch at this point turning you on beyond belief.

“You would. My little slut.” You couldn’t see his smirk, because his face was now buried in your neck, but you could definitely hear it in his voice.

“I can just imagine you fingering your creamy pussy just to get off,” his hand starts travelling up your exposed thigh and starts playing with the hem of your skirt, making you go wild. “If I close my eyes I can already see my cum overflowing and running down your perfect little asshole.” His other hand grabbed your right breast and started massaging it over your shirt, making you release a tiny little moan.

What was happening to you? He was winning. You couldn’t let him win. You had to do something now.

With the inner strength you didn’t even know you had in yourself you took a deep breath and pushed him away, your senses immediately clearing as you no longer felt his intoxicating smell so close.

He was shocked, and his shock only gave you that more strength.

“I think you’ll find that it’s actually the opposite Jungkook.” Usually, while you were with him in the club you would never call him by his real name, but this time you felt like it gave the moment a more serious tone, and you definitely wanted him to take you seriously.

“You think you’re some big shot?” You scoffed and made your way towards him, this time you being the one who backs him up against the big red leather sofa with the big red neon sign that said “Sex” just above it. You gave him one little push and he fell back, you towering over him for a change.

“You are here for me to use. I pay you, so…” you lower yourself down and sit right on top of his bulge, your skirt hoisting up. “...I’m gonna fuck you until my pussy gets its fill and then I’m gonna leave you with a hard red leaky cock that’s aching to be milked dry.”

Jungkook’s expression didn’t falter, but he didn’t say anything either, giving you the courage to continue.

You pressed your core even harder on his cock and started grinding, a tiny hiss leaving both your mouths. “I can just imagine your frustrated face, fisting your cock as you imagine it’s my cunt. Going at it so hard and fast that your lungs can barely keep up. Parting your pretty little lips to moan my name…”

Jungkook bucked his hips upwards to feel you even better, the sensation driving you absolutely mad.

You looked into each other’s eyes, tension building as you felt each other up. Your hands ran down his exposed chest as his squeezed your ass. You couldn’t help but look at his lips, those sinful lips that had made you feel extraordinary sensations so many times before - he chuckled.

“You’re cute when you try to be a dom.” He grabbed your chin and forced you to look straight into his dark lustful eyes, “are you going to fucking kiss me or do I have to beg for it?”

Feeling affected that he described your actions as “cute” you harshly slapped his hand away and grabbed him by his hair, pulling him forward so his lips could crash into yours.

The kiss was erratic. Hungry. Animalistic. Needy. Everything.

You slid his robe down his muscular biceps exposing his protruding veins and sexy tattoos and as soon as he was finished discarding the garment to the middle of the room he grabbed your white shirt by the cleavage and ripped it right open throwing the destroyed shirt to the place where his robe was.

“That shirt was expensive,” you say between breaths as he frees your mouth to kiss you down your neck.

“Fuck the shirt, I want you.” He bit a piece of skin on your chest and tugged on it with his teeth as he slid the straps of your bra down, your skin forming tiny little bumps from the sensation of his fingers running through it.

“Rider…” you moaned as his mouth got closer and closer to your breasts, your hips grinding on him harder.

“Call me Jungkook.”

“Jungkook…” you moaned as he moved your bra down, the rough seam bumping against your sensitive nipples. His lips immediately claimed one of your hardened peeks, the other one being left at the mercy of his tattooed fingers.

You picked up your pace and started dry humping like a madwoman, your orgasm getting closer and closer.

“I’m gonna cum.” Your announcement made Jungkook toy with your nipples harder, twisting and pulling until you were cumming undone, his name coming out of your mouth like a mantra.

Not having any time to breathe, Jungkook picked you up and threw you to the couch, the feeling of the leather on your bare hot skin making you slightly uncomfortable. Before you even had time to ask him what he was doing, he was pulling your panties down and diving in straight to your core, your legs closing in on his head due to the sensitivity.

“Jungkook, I wanna suck your cock…” you whined as he inserted one of his middle fingers inside of you.

“Sorry love, no sucking today. I just want to be buried inside of you.” He started to suck on your clit and after working his finger in for a little bit he added another. You could tell he was in a rush to fuck you and that turned you on even more.

He curled up his fingers inside you making you moan even louder and you thanked your lucky stars the room was soundproof. You were so wet that you could hear it perfectly clear, a sound so lewd that made your whole temperature rise.

Very soon you were feeling your orgasm building once more and, this time, you could tell it was stronger than the other. “Fuck baby, give me more…”

Like a soldier taking orders, he promptly added a third finger and at that moment you knew you weren’t gonna last much longer. In fact, all it took was 10 more seconds of him finger-fucking you while flicking your clit with his tongue and you were spiralling down in pleasure once more, this time on his mouth. “Jungkook...”

You lied there with your eyes closed for what felt like an eternity - the need to catch your breath and calm your heart way too big - but when you finally opened them, Jungkook was standing next to you all naked slowly pumping his cock.

“Sssss...Y/N, don’t fucking look at me like that or I’m gonna bust-”

Feeling your dom persona getting back into action, you got up and threw him down on the black fluffy rug - its fluffy texture being much more pleasant than the leather of the couch. You placed your legs on both sides of him and crouched down. His dick was so hard it was standing straight up, almost like it was waiting for you to sink down on it. So, not being able to resist it any longer, you simply grabbed it and sat right on top of him.

“Fuck, such a fucking tight cunt for me-” You shut him up by putting your hand on his mouth and started riding him like you were at a fucking rodeo.

You were feeling drunk on sex. His cock was hitting you on all the right places (like it always did), his hands were grabbing your hips so hard you were sure they were gonna leave a mark and the sight of his bulging muscles glistening with sweat was driving you into absolute madness.

You were fucking at a mad speed, even you didn’t know where all that strength had come from, but if someone saw you right now they’d probably think you had taken some drugs. Eventually, though, your body started to grow tired and Jungkook noticed that, so he let go of your hips and pulled you onto him. Your head nuzzled on his neck and he started to fucking drill you up.

“Oh shit, shit, shit…” You moaned into his neck, a mix of his cologne and sweat hitting your nostrils.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long baby.”

Hearing his confession you snaked your arm between your bodies and frantically rubbed your clit so you could cum at the same time. The work on your abused clit didn’t last long though, making you cum on his deliciously hard cock, “oh Jungkook.”

“Fuck, Y/N.” The clenching of your pussy eventually tipped him over the edge, him spilling his warm seed inside of you.

After a while of you two panting on the rug, Jungkook got up to pick a couple of tissues so he could clean you up, leaving you alone on the floor.

“Fuck me…” you said in a surprising sense at what had just happened as he kneeled between your legs.

“Again?” He looked up at you with a teasing smirk and proceeded to collect his cum with the tissues.

“You know what I mean,” you laughed, the mood feeling light.

Once you got up to put your discarded clothes back on you remembered what Jungkook had done to your shirt and turned to him with your hands on your hips. “How am I supposed to get out of here with no shirt Mr Jeon Jungkook?”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he apologized as he put his tight pants back on. “I brought a shirt under my hoodie today, I can lend it to you. Might not go with your outfit though…” He teased as he looked at your pencil skirt.

“I’ll take it,” you smiled at him and waited as he went to his dressing room to pick his shirt up.

Once he returned not only did he bring you his shirt, but a stack of bills leaving you completely stunned. “Here you go,” he said as he handed you the shirt and completely ignored the money.

“Thank you,” you put on his shirt since you were starting to feel kind of cold and looked at him with a questioning look. “Are you paying me for my services or…?”

He looked confused for a second before he followed your gaze to the money on his hands and laughed. “Oh no, this is hum... for the back room.”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to. I’m the client and I used your services, I should pay.”

“Yeah but...don’t look at tonight like a service. I invited you, I teased you...it’s on me tonight,” he tried to place the money on your hands but you hesitated, eventually grabbing it and giving him a shy smile.

What this meant for the two of you you didn’t know, but you sure were excited to find out.

#ksmutclub #jungkook #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #bts #bts smut #kpop #kpop smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenario #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #jungkook fic #jeongguk #jeongguk smut

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purrincess-chat · 3 years

Text

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH28

What does Chloe have in store for Marinette? Find out next week! As I stated on AO3, once I post chapter 30, I’m going to take another month off to let my betas finish up the last few chapters, then in October if we are all finished, I will be posting two chapters a week on Mondays and Fridays to finish this story out. It’s been a long journey rewriting it, but I’m much happier with the outcome this time. I hope you’re all excited to see the rest of the changes to this story. I know I can’t wait to share them!

Previous First Next AO3

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Chapter 28: End Game

Morning light streamed through the window, casting golden rays across Marinette’s cheeks. The urgent screech of her alarm blared on the shelf above her head, vibrating the loft in its tantrum. She blinked, then immediately squeezed her eyes shut again, sitting up out of the sun. Kicking the blankets from around her legs, she palmed for her phone, clumsily tapping the screen with a yawn. Sleep had eluded her most of the night for more reasons than one, and the previous day’s events replayed on loop as she slogged through her morning routine.

Had all of it really happened? The museum, her old friends, the akuma, Emerald Shell, Lila… And she’d gone to Chloe of all people for help. When had she fallen so low? And how long did Marinette have to be on this rollercoaster? Wasn’t there an emergency exit she could use?

She splashed water on her face, leaning against the sink with a sigh. Not all of it was bad at least. She and Adrien got to spend the evening together, though the sweetness diminished as a result of the afternoon’s events. Even still, there were worse ways to end a trying day than being spoon-fed chocolate mousse by the boy of her dreams.

Marinette stared at her reflection, droplets dripping from her chin like the countless tears she’d cried the past month. So much had changed since she left. Her face still looked the same, but the girl inside was different than the one who walked out of Francoise-Dupont a month ago. Her eyes carried a new determination.

Lila had gone too far, and Marinette wasn’t going to stand for it anymore. Starting today, everything was going to change.

“Marinette! You’re going to be late for school!” her mother called up the stairs.

Marinette dried her face and slipped on her blazer.

“Coming!”

Things were normal at school. People were buzzing about the latest akuma and the appearance of Emerald Shell. Martin held his head a little higher, though his cheeks never lost their rosy hue, especially when Macy gushed about how Emerald Shell saved her. It wasn’t until art class that they realized Marinette was being unusually quiet.

“How did things go with Adrien?” Eliott asked, looking up from the fruit bowl they were all painting.

“Adrien was fine,” Marinette said. “It was Lila I had to worry about.”

“Still?” Macy winced. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story…” Marinette sighed, wiping her brush on a rag.

“We’ve got a whole hour.” Martin pointed out, and they all looked at Marinette expectantly.

Marinette smiled, reassured by their eagerness. They really were the best friends in the world. She took a deep breath before diving in, and her friends listened to every detail intently.

“Whoa, she really did that to you?” Lisette asked when she finished. “And I thought Gabrielle was awful.”

“Lila is an attention-seeking manipulator, and she crushes anyone who gets in her way,” Marinette said bitterly. “I hate to drag you guys into this—mostly because I barely want to be dragged into this—but-”

“Oh, we’ll totally help,” Macy said. “If there’s one thing rich people love to do it’s brag about our accomplishments and make other people look inferior.”

“I can text around and try to set up a hangout with Prince Ali next time he passes through Paris.” Eliott offered.

“My dad’s in a group that plays tennis with a few ambassadors. I’m sure he could help us set up a youth program to push a Go Green effort here in Paris.” Martin added.

“Sometimes I babysit for the president’s niece, so I could see about getting her deported,” Lisette said with a cheery grin, and everyone turned to her with horrified expressions. “I’m kidding, but it’s an option.”

“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re kicking awful people out of the country.” Eliott nuzzled her cheek with his nose.

“Anything you need, Marinette, we’ve got your back,” Macy said, placing a hand over hers. “We’re behind you all the way.”

Marinette pulled her in for a hug, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. Even though she regretted running from her problems, Marinette didn’t regret meeting her new friends. They helped her when she needed it most, and for that, she would always be grateful. With these people by her side, Lila wasn’t going to know what hit her.

♪♫♪ This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things ♪♫♪

Marinette paced the length of the living room a week later, chewing her nails. The awards show had finally arrived, and Clara would be walking the red carpet in one of Marinette’s original designs. It was the biggest moment of her life, and she couldn’t sit still.

Her mom smiled, setting the cake she’d just finished decorating on the table. “Everything is going to be fine, dear. Your designs were wonderful, and Clara loved them.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean all of the famous fashion critics are going to. People talk about award show outfits for weeks, mom! If everyone hates Clara’s dress, I’m going to be front-page news for worst-dressed all month!” Marinette groaned.

“There’s no way anyone will hate your designs. My daughter has all the talent in the world!” Her father scooped her up, planting a kiss on her cheek.

The doorbell rang, and Marinette rushed to answer it.

“Congratulations!” Her friends cheered.

Macy pulled her in for a tight hug. “I can’t wait to see which design Clara picked! They were all so good.”

“I can’t believe Clara picked you over Gabriel Agreste. You are so lucky, Marinette,” Lisette said.

“She’s amazingly talented. My father didn’t stand a chance,” Adrien said with a laugh. He presented a bouquet of roses with a shy smile. “Congratulations, mon ange.”

Marinette stretched up to kiss his cheek. Taking his hand, she ushered everyone inside where they didn’t hesitate to make themselves at home. Eliott and Martin moved for the snacks while Macy and Lisette settled on the couch. Marinette’s mother reached for a vase on the top shelf, stretching up on her toes.

“Let me.” Adrien stepped in and grabbed it with ease.

“Thank you, dear. Marinette picked such a sweet boyfriend.” Her mother beamed. “She used to talk about you so much. Every day, she’d come home from school and tell us all about how green your eyes are and-”

“Mom!” Marinette shot her a silencing look.

“I’m flattered. Marinette is a wonderful girl. You and Mr. Dupain must be really proud that a celebrity like Clara commissioned her,” Adrien replied smoothly. He shot Marinette a wink when her mom changed the subject. Why was he so perfect?

“Ooo! It’s starting!” Macy squealed.

Marinette and Adrien squeezed onto the couch next to Macy and Eliott. She leaned her head on his shoulder, twining their fingers together. Having her friends around eased some of her nerves, but her heartbeat escalated every time someone new moved to the front of the line.

“How long until we get to see your dress?” her dad asked.

“I don’t know. The red carpet doesn’t really have a set schedule.” Marinette shrugged.

“Okay, we’ll just wait,” he said, trying to seem nonchalant, though his impatience showed each time he shifted or cleared his throat.

Marinette chewed her nails as other artists and celebrities made their appearances, leg bouncing until Eliott reached over to stop it. She flashed him a sheepish grin but resumed tapping the moment he turned away.

Clara’s name flashed at the bottom of the screen, and Marinette cupped her hands over her mouth. Everyone leaned forward as she approached the camera in a colorful, flowing gown.

“She’s wearing my favorite!” Marinette squeaked between her fingers. Her dad patted her knee as her mom turned up the volume on the television.

“Standing here on the red carpet with Best Pop Artist nominee Clara Nightingale,” the reporter said, turning to Clara with a smile. “Clara, can I just say you look lovely tonight? Who are you wearing?”

“My dress was designed by someone sweet; a teen whose talent can’t be beat. More beautiful than any melody I’ve ever sang, this dress is by Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Clara twirled around, the skirt of the dress rippling with color.

Marinette buried her face in a couch pillow with a shrill scream. Adrien rubbed her back with a laugh. She shot up again, eyes glued to the screen as Clara gushed about the details of her dress before the conversation steered toward her award nomination.

“Can I just say? Stun-ning!” Eliott said.

“That dress is everything! It looks even better than it did on paper.” Macy agreed.

“A celebrity wearing my daughter’s original designs! I always knew someone would recognize how amazing you are.” Her dad pulled her in for a tight hug.

“We’re so proud of you, honey. We know how hard you worked,” her mom said.

“You did an amazing job, Marinette.” Adrien pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Well, we have to get back to the bakery, so we’ll let you kids watch the rest together, okay?” Her mother passed Macy the remote.

“Good night.” Marinette waved as they stood and took their leave.

“Actually, I should go too. I forgot to do my physics homework,” Macy said, standing up. “Martin, can you come help me? It’ll take me hours if you don’t.”

Martin flicked his gaze over to Marinette and nodded. “Uh, yeah, I can do that.”

“Oh, ya know, I just remembered that I promised my dad we’d help him with that thing,” Lisette said.

“Oh yeah! Sorry, it’s like a big, complicated thing. We need to go too.” Eliott nodded. “Congrats again. You’re amazing and wonderful, and you deserve this more than anyone.”

“Thanks.” Marinette smiled.

“See you tomorrow!” Macy called as they all shuffled out the door.

“Is it just me or was that a lot of lame excuses?” Marinette tilted her head.

“I asked them to give us some time alone.” Adrien admitted.

“Oh.” Marinette’s cheeks warmed as Adrien wrapped an arm around her.

“I know things have been crazy lately, but in a way, I’m really glad all of this happened. I might not have ever realized how I felt about you if it hadn’t,” he said. “It’s a weird positive that’s come from everything.”

“Yeah.” Marinette leaned against his shoulder with a smile. “I’m happy things worked out. I never would have told you how I felt otherwise.”

“Did you really tell your parents how cute I was?” he asked with a smirk.

“I- Well, I didn’t- I mean-” She buried her face in his shirt with a groan.

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard you stammer like that. I forgot how cute it is.” Adrien chuckled.

“It’s your fault.” She jabbed his chest with one finger. “You’re so cute. It makes me all flustered.”

“Hmm, then I wonder how you’ll react to this.” He reached into his pocket to retrieve a long jewelry case, opening it to reveal a small pink diamond necklace.

“Adrien!”

“I wanted to get you something to remember me by since we go to different schools now. I miss you like crazy, so I thought that maybe you could at least have a small piece of me when we’re apart,” he said. “Do you like it?”

“Adrien…” Marinette cupped a hand over her mouth. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

The gem was warm against her skin as Adrien fastened it around her neck, a physical reminder of his love. They’d overcome so much together, and while their fight was far from over, at least Marinette had him.

Adrien turned her jaw to face him, brushing her cheek with his thumb. Those warm green eyes softened as he leaned in, and Marinette closed her eyes. His breath swirled hot on her lips when they brushed, sending a jolt up her spine. Her heart hammered in a frenzy, building rapidly in anticipation. But just as release came, his pocket buzzed, and they both crashed down to earth again.

With a short sigh, Adrien pulled back and retrieved his phone, quirking a brow at the caller ID.

“It’s Chloe,” he said. “Hell-”

“Were you two going to list Dupain-Cheng designing for Clara Nightingale among our assets, or was I just supposed to figure that out myself?” She scolded.

“Sorry. It was kind of-”

“No time for excuses. I need to propose this to you before I change my mind. I know the perfect way to enact your plan,” Chloe said with a groan. “I hate myself for even considering it.”

“What are you suggesting?” Adrien’s eyebrows furrowed.

“We’re going to make Dupain-Cheng famous, and I think I know the perfect way to do it.”

#mdcspr #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist remix #my writing

51 notes · View notes

ikleesfiction · 3 years

Text

Will you follow through if I fall for you?

Fandom : One Chicago Word count : 3,485 words Disclaimer

Previously on this fic : Part 1 🞂 Part 2 🞂 Part 3 🞂 Part 4 🞂 Part 5 🞂 Part 6 🞂 Part 7 🞂 Part 8 🞂 Part 9 🞂 Part 10

Part 11 (FIN)

Jay hangs out at Molly's after a good day at work. The bar is packed with familiar faces from Firehouse 51 and The Med. He sits down at a table with Hailey and Adam, talking about dull things, enjoying his drink.

"Jay, did you ever find out who sent you that box of chocolate on your birthday last month?" Hailey curiously asks him.

"Oh, you mean the one that you and Kim confiscated?" Jay teases her.

"Yeah, yeah, you wouldn't even open it if we didn't force you," Hailey rolls her eyes. "So, did you know who gave it to you?"

Jay's lips twitch with a barely-there smile, "Yeah, I did,"

"Who was it?" Adam asks nosily.

"A friend," Jay replies vaguely.

"You have friends other than us?" Hailey mocks him. "I'm shocked!"

"Hey, I'll have you know, I am a social butterfly. I got friends in many places," Jay points his finger at his coworkers who are busy laughing at him.

Adam sobers up from the laugh first and sees Kelly Severide approaching their table, "Hey, man!"

Kelly grins at Adam and Hailey, "Hey, guys!" before beckons to Jay, "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Jay is confused but follows Kelly anyway to a quieter corner of the bar. He waits until Kelly starts to speak. "I'm not sure if you know this, but Y/N will be in town next week," Jay stiffens as he hears his ex's name, but Kelly continues as if he didn't see it. "I know that she made a big mistake, and you probably still hate her," Kelly opens his hands in a placating manner, ".. but I'm not trying to play sides here. It's just.. she asked me to give you this," Kelly pulls an envelope from his jacket pocket. "It's two tickets for their show at Soldier Field next week, including the backstage passes. You can do whatever you want with them, man. If you want to use them, she'll be thrilled. If you want to burn them, she'll understand," He hands the envelope to Jay, who hesitantly takes it. "She's scheduled to arrive on Friday night and supposedly stays at The Langham for the weekend. But she hinted that she will try to crash at my place," Kelly informs him further.

"Why are you telling me this? What do you expect me to do?" bemuses Jay.

"I'm not telling you to do anything. I understand that you have a hard time these past months. But I also know it was not easy for Y/N as well. This might be a chance for you to clear any niggling questions you have." Kelly pats Jay's shoulder before walks out of Molly's.

Jay slowly steps back to their table. Hailey immediately grills him, "What was that about?"

Jay shakes his head to answer his friend, "It's nothing important." He puts the envelope in his back pocket, trying to forget the conversation.

◢◤

The days sneak up on Jay. Without him knowing, it's already Saturday evening. He sits on a couch at home, staring at the envelope on the table, thinking about what he should do. He knows what he wants to do, but he is not sure if it's the right thing to do. Jay bounces his foot restlessly before he decides to call Will.

"Hey, what are you doing tonight?" Jay asks Will straight away once the call is connected.

Unbothered by Jay's rude manner, Will replies shortly, "Watching Netflix. Why?"

"I need you to go someplace with me," demands Jay.

"I'm on stand by. I cannot go too long or too far away from Med." Will explains.

"I'll drive you with sirens on if they call you. Please, Will?"

Will is never immune to his brother's pleadings, so naturally, he agrees. "Okay, then. When are you going to pick me up?"

"I'm leaving my place now. You go get ready," Jay grabs his keys and walks out to his car.

◢◤

Once Will sits comfortably in Jay's car, he begins to ask, "So, where are we going?"

"Soldier Field." he hears Jay's clipped reply. Will starts to put the pieces together when he remembers that alex&y/n playing there tonight. He tries to reconfirm his guess, "Isn't that where..."

"Yep," Jay curtly nods without leaving his gaze from the road.

Will raises his eyebrows, "So you're going to see her?"

"I don't know," Jay shrugs his reply.

Will confronts him further, "Is that why you brought me? To help you decide?"

"No, I asked you to come because I know you're a fan of Y/N and her music," Jay patiently explains his reason.

Will never admits that fact before, but his brother seems to catch it anyway. Jay always tenses up whenever someone mentions his ex's name. Thus Will thought it's wiser to leave him be. But this time, it's Jay who chose to bring it out.

"But I told you before, I won't go to see the show," Will tries to remind Jay. He wants Jay to understand that he is here for his brother.

Instead, Jay tells him, "I know. That's why I brought you."

Will sighs loudly, "You're so confusing."

Stopping at an intersection, Jay grins widely at Will, "Just enjoy it, man."

◢◤

The first time Jay opens the envelope is in front of an usher who stands by the entrance gate. He shows the tickets to him and lets the usher guides them to the Guest Check-In area.

"Where did you get those tickets? Did Y/N give you that?" Will asks Jay as they stand in front of the check-in booth. Jay simply ignores Will's interrogations.

"Hello, good evening. May I see your tickets and ID, please?" greets the young man behind the booth. Jay silently gives the tickets and his driving license to the man. He checks them for a moment then input something on a laptop in front of him. Soon he returns Jay's ID back along with two gold wristbands. "Here's your wristband. Please tighten it on your hand, so you don't lose it," He pulls out a colorful map and circles several spots as he details further, "You can access the Guest Area here, on the east side of VIP seats. To access the backstage, you need to go to the north side area and ask the officials there for the backstage entrance. Is there anything else I can do for you, Sir?"

"No, thank you." Jay folds the map and puts it in his back pocket.

The man smiles politely and bids them goodbye, "Have a good time, Mr. Halstead."

The sky looks clear, tints in beautiful orange as the sun just set. They quickly find the Guest Area and the VIP seats. The seats are on an elevated section, which definitely gets a better view of the stage. The stage is dark now, but Jay can see it's bustling with some preparation. The Guest Area looks inviting. It has a private bar and a few food stalls. "This is very nice," remarks Will as he takes in his surrounding. He almost sounds impressed until he remembers from whom Jay got the tickets. "Nope. I ain't falling for this stunt! Does she think these extravagant things could lead her back to you?" Will shakes his head and declares passionately. He sulks on his way to find a spot with the perfect view of the stage.

Smirking at Will's antic, Jay pacifies his brother, "I think she just wants us to have a good time,"

Before Will can respond, the stage suddenly lit up. Laser and neon lights shine blindingly. In front of the stage, the crowd starts to clap and yell excitedly. As the intro begins to play, Jay looks down at the sea of people below him, shouting Alex's and your name.

"What's up, Chicagooooooo!" Alex cheers as he shows up on the stage, then soon followed by you. The crowd goes even wilder. You and Alex open with the first song, jumping lightly to the beat. Between a gap to the second song, Alex greets the crowd. "Chicago! It's so good to be here tonight" He leaves the beat playing in the background. "It is even better to have my best friend here with me. Would you please make some noise for Y/N!" The crowd hoots loudly. You answer them with a grin and a quick wave. "I hope you're also having the best time with your friends. Or maybe even make new friends. So now, let's party!!" Alex puts the microphone down and begins to play the next song. You and Alex play together for about 30 minutes before Alex leaves the stage. You keep the crowds going with your songs and remixes.

"Is it just me, or she doesn't look like she's enjoying it?" Will yells at Jay's ear. The music is so loud, it's practically impossible to speak over the thumping beats and sing-along crowd. Jay also notices the same thing Will said. It was really subtle. The crowd probably won't see it. But since Jay solely pays his attention to you, he can see that you're looking a bit tired. After another 30 minutes passed, Alex comes back on stage as you go off.

Alex plays solo for about 45 minutes before you come back to the stage. They play together again for a few songs until Alex grabs the microphone, "This is our last ten minutes... We are alex&y/n. We hope you enjoyed our music tonight... You guys are fucking amazing! We love you!" The crowds shout back in response.

When they reach the outro, Alex helps you get up on the table before getting himself up. Both of you bow and send air kisses goodbye to the crowds. The confetti bursts on the stage as fireworks explode beautifully to the sky. Soon as the last note goes, Alex jumps down from the table and helps you down. The stage then goes completely dark again. The crowds start to break. Some move away slowly from the stage. Others decide to sit in front of the stage and wait for the next act.

Will nudges Jay and asks, "You're gonna use that backstage pass?"

"No. Let's just go home," Jay sounds certain, but his eyes don't leave the dark stage, as if he still can see you there.

"They are actually amazing," Will comments about the show as Jay drives him back to his place. "I mean, I know they sound good. But the show was apparently better. Thank you for taking me tonight, bro."

"You know you can talk to her, right? You don't have to avoid her for me," Jay tells his brother.

Will clasps his hand on Jay's shoulder. "I know. But you're my brother. She hurts you. I'm not ready to forgive her yet."

◢◤

After you get off the stage, it doesn't take long for the entourage to leave the venue. Alex is whining that he's hungry. The time just passed 11 PM, so you take them to one of your favorite late-night eateries in Chicago. You also pick this place because it's only three blocks from Kelly's home. Thus, once everyone is done eating, they drop you off at Kelly's before they go back to the hotel.

Kelly knows that you're coming, so he's not surprised when he hears knocks on his door at 1 AM. But you are the one who is surprised when you see some folks from Firehouse 51 there. You hang out with them, talking and laughing until almost dawn. Some of them decide to go home. Others prefer to catch a wink before leaving. The sleeping arrangement becomes a challenge when there are more people than available beds. You finally get to shut your eyes on Kelly's couch just as the sun rises.

The persistent knocks on the door wake you up from your slumber. Half asleep, you come to the door, expecting Sylvie or Joe coming with brunch since they chose to go home last night.

When the door is opened, you blink a few times, not trusting your eyes. Is that really.. "Jay?" you whisper cautiously, wondering if you're still dreaming.

"Hi, Y/N," Jay lets out a nervous smile. You stare at each other for a while, uncertain of what to say. Before Jay gestures to the door, "May I come in?"

"Uhm, yeah, sure. Please. Come in," You stammer as you open the door wider to let Jay in. When you remember that you're still in your sleepwear of a tank top and cotton shorts, you insecurely put on a sweatshirt from your duffel near the couch.

You see Jay looking around the living room. It isn't messy, but it isn't exactly pristine either. They did bare minimum clean-up before went to bed, but you still can see remnants of the get-together. "Did you sleep there?" Jay refers to the unmade couch.

You let out a small giggle as you walk to the kitchen to make coffees, "Drew a short stick on the sleeping arrangement,"

Jay laughs at you, "Why did you sleep on a couch when you have a heavenly bed at the Langham?"

You're a bit surprised that Jay knew where you should've stayed, "Huh, guess Kelly told you that?" The question feels a bit rhetorical, so you don't expect Jay to give any response. "Would you like a cup?" You offer Jay, gesturing to the brewing coffee when he follows you to the kitchen.

"Please," Jay nods then sits on the chair by the counter. Both of you stay silent as you prepare the coffee. You wonder why Jay is here, but you are afraid to ask. When the coffee's brewed, you fix Jay's cup first and hand it to him before filling yours. "Thanks," Jay says as he accepts the cup. You stay on the other side of the counter as you sip into your cup. You feel like saying something, but you don't know what. Should you ask what's Jay doing here? Would Jay accept if you apologize to him again?

After a few awkward seconds, Jay speaks first. "Your show last night was great. Even got Will to jump and dance,"

That actually surprises you, "You came?"

"Of course we did. Will is a fan of yours." He says like it's a fact. Like it's the only reason he came.

You scoff your disagreement, "Right, I doubt that Will is a fan of me,"

"Will likes your music." Jay differs.

"Now that is something I can believe. But I'm pretty sure Will still hates me," you chuckle despairingly.

Jay takes his time to counter your claim, "Will doesn't hate you. He just... felt like he should. Because of me."

"What about you?" you hesitantly ask. "I understand if you're still mad at me. I just wish I can do something to fix it.."

When Jay gives no answer, you kick yourself in your head, thinking you've really screwed this up.

"When are you leaving?" Jay asks instead after a minute pause. You can hear the imply "again" at the end of the question.

Softly sigh to your coffee cup, you reply, "Monday morning." You see Jay nodding as a sign that he hears you, but he doesn't say anything. "I... might come back here in about three months?" It was intended as information, but your apprehensive voice made it sound like you're asking for his permission instead of letting him know.

Jay tilts his head, looking a bit curious, "For work?"

You take a deep breath before saying, "For you." Your gaze doesn't waver from his face. "If you can somehow forgive me and give me a second chance?" Jay locks eyes on you. His lips stay closed, but his eyes demand more explanation.

"I... realized that what I feel about you is a real deal. These past 8 months, I've been running away, trying to distract myself from my regret. I went back to Amsterdam, thinking I was gonna go home, but instead, it felt like I was walking away from home..."

"But you got your family, friends there. Your job is there. That's the reason you gave me when you left." Jay points out. He doesn't raise his voice, but you hear his upset loudly.

"Yes, they are. But I was too blind to see that I got similar things here as well. That I also have family and friends here.. Amsterdam doesn't feel the same anymore, with the fact that I left my heart here..."

Jay looks doubtful over your words. "I don't understand why you want to do that. How about your work? You're just growing a new career, and I know it's doing very well,"

"No, I don't think I can do it any longer. I hate being on stage. I got these next three months to finish alex&y/n gigs, then I stop touring. Go back to writing and producing behind the stage, which I still love to do. I could do that from anywhere. Might need to travel once in a while, but I believe I can base here."

Jay stays quiet for a moment. You feel your heart beating fast, waiting for his next words, which turn out to be another question. "If I say no, are you not gonna come and stay?"

Your face was crestfallen, your throat felt dry. Thoughts ran around in the back of your mind. If you stay here, you'd be closer to Jay. But if he doesn't want to forgive you, would staying still be better than being far away from him? "I... probably still come back and stay in Chicago." you finally answer him.

A ringing phone interrupts the heartfelt conversation before Jay gives you any response. He picks up his phone without stepping away from you. "Yeah? Okay. Give me 15 minutes." He says to whomever on the phone. Once the call ends, Jay stands up from his seat, "I gotta go."

"Work?" You pry.

"No. It's Hailey. She asks me to go with her for lunch," Jay explains.

"Oh.." Now you really look pathetic. Jealous for someone dear to Jay? Yeah, you certainly are a mess now.

You follow Jay, who already moves to the front door. As he opens the door to let himself out, Jay pauses to look at you. "It's good to see you, Y/N." He sounds so sincere.

You smile softly at him, "Yeah, Jay. It's good to see you too."

◢◤

"So you went to see her? Why?" Hailey exclaims. She cannot comprehend the reason Jay still wanted to meet his ex.

Jay shrugs. "I just... I don't know. I thought if I talked to her, then I would be able to let go and move on."

"And? Could you now?" Hailey confronts him.

"No. It made me miss her more." Jay admits.

Hailey scorns her friend's confession. "You're not even trying to move on, Jay."

"Maybe. I don't know if I want to though," Jay looks out to the street through the cafe's window.

"She's going to leave again. Break your heart again. Is that what you want?" Hailey tries to make Jay sees the real possibility here.

Jay doesn't give her any response. Without Hailey's reminder, he already thought and feared about the same things.

◢◤

"I have to state that this is an absolute misconduct." Hailey declares furiously from the passenger seat. "And I'm still thinking that you're making a wrong choice here."

It's Monday morning. Hailey should've been suspicious when Jay handed her a cup of coffee and a bag of pastry from her favorite bakery. Now they are gunning down to the charter terminal at Chicago Midway as if they're chasing a perp who tries to escape the country. Jay glances at Hailey and smirks, "Your complaint has been received and noted."

Jay turns his focus back on the road. He has been informed where the plane is gonna be. When he finds it, Jay sees you and your team walk to a G5 that's being prepared for their flight.

Jay brakes his car harshly. The loud screeching sound makes you pause and look at the source of the noise. Jay jumps out of the car and approaches you. He sees the surprised look on your face when you realize that he's here. You slowly walk towards Jay, gaping at him but utter no words.

"There months, you say?" Jay asks you with a heavy breath.

You answer wordlessly with a nod, not getting where Jay's going with this.

"I could wait for three months. Or more. As long as you come back to me." Jay tells you seriously.

"Yeah?" You stutter, eyes wide in surprise. "You sure?"

"Never been surer about anything else in my life," Jay states confidently. He sees your face beams, then it turns into a wide grin. Before he knows it, he has you in his arms, squealing happily.

-end-

+x Taglist +x

@shipshipshipau @itsdesiree86 @thevelvetseries @annaallicce

Author Notes : I plan to continue this story with one shots or drabbles, but I don't know when. Please drop me a message/reply if you wanna be tagged for future fics. You are definitely welcome to follow the account. Or you can just wait for them to appear on "Jay Halstead x reader" tag posts. Thank you for all the loves you gave this fic!

#fanfiction #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead fic #jay halstead imagine #chicago pd fic #One Chicago #one chicago fic #jay halstead #hailey upton #Adam Ruzek #Kelly Severide #original work #wyftiiffy

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lovehotelreservation · 4 years

Note

[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.

#gran #granblue fantasy #gbf #reader insert #Hoechella #super freaknasty writing #Fic #emoh-in-bed #management will return in a queue minutes

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Sweet as Sugar (Branjie) - Athena2

Summary: Vanessa is a cafe owner who finds herself instantly crushing on the new bakery owner across the street.

A/N: Bakery au is finally here! Every time I was about to get this finished and ready for posting, I got distracted by another fic I wanted to write. It’s finally here, and I hope you enjoy! Thank you to Writ for betaing and encouraging me to finally finish!

Read on AO3.

It’s raining the day the new bakery owner arrives across the street, and Vanessa watches it all through the rain-splattered glass of her cafe windows. It’s cozy and warm in here, the customers chatting while they munch on their sandwiches, and Vanessa’s glad to be safe behind the counter instead of out in that mess.

She can’t ignore the little twinge in her chest as she watches the owner–a tall blonde woman–emerge into the pouring rain and sort through stuff in her trunk. She must be freezing, Vanessa thinks, watching the woman finish with her car and move to fiddling with the bakery door’s lock and a box she’s carrying, before finally setting the box down and using both hands to play with the lock. A minute later, the keys slip out of her hand and into a puddle, and Vanessa bites her lip.

“Someone needs to help that woman,” she says to A’keria, who’s busy stocking the case of to-go sandwiches. “She can’t even get her damn door open.”

A’keria blinks and looks down at herself. “You better not mean me,” she says. “You know how much I hate rain. Have Kameron do it. She has muscles.”

“I’m pretty sure her and Asia are up to something since they mysteriously went on break together.” Vanessa sighs, just hoping those two are back before the lunch rush. “I’ll just do it myself.” She grabs her raincoat and stomps to the door. Vanessa’s a helper, and she’s volunteered at too many church functions with her mom to just leave this woman struggling, even if she has to get rained on.

Vanessa’s boots squelch as she reaches the sidewalk. “Hey there,” she says to the woman, who jumps about a foot in the air.

“Sorry, just–you scared me,” the woman says, grabbing at her heart. Her sweater is soaked through with rain and she’s shivering, blonde hair damp and messy, but she’s still beautiful, with soft green eyes and wide lips that look like they might quirk up mischievously sometimes. Vanessa spends a few seconds just taking her in, heart racing.

“You look like you could use some help,” Vanessa says, remembering why she came here.

“Me? I’m fine.” The woman waves her off.

Vanessa puts her hands on her hips. “I could see you struggling from across the dang street.”

“I guess I was.” The blonde sighs. “I just can’t get this key to work,” she says, holding up a key ring soaked with dirty puddle water.

“Let me try,” Vanessa offers. The blonde’s hands are baker’s hands, their slight roughness smoothed over with lotion, a still-healing burn mark near her wrist likely from pulling a hot pan out of the oven, an injury Vanessa knows too well. They’re also shaking from the cold as she passes Vanessa the key, and Vanessa’s heart softens in sympathy. No wonder she couldn’t get her door open.

Vanessa plunges the key in the lock and twists and turns until it clicks, pulling the door open with a whoop of joy.

“I loosened it for you,” the woman says.

Vanessa shakes her head. “That’s for jars, not doors!” She laughs, scooping up the woman’s box and ushering her inside.

Vanessa’s eyes widen when she sees the inside of the place. This little building has been home to dog grooming businesses and then to pizza businesses that did nothing to mask the wet dog smell and then to shoe stores that not only did nothing to mask the wet dog and tomato smell, but also added feet to the mix. Vanessa watched moving trucks drive up and pull away through her cafe windows, wondering if the next person would stick around.

It seems this woman wants to, and she’s completely transformed the place. Gone are the muddled dog/tomato/feet smells, as are the cracks in the wall Vanessa remembers from when she went shoe shopping. Instead, everything’s been painted a soothing lavender, with black silhouettes of baked goods–cupcakes and cookies and donuts–framing the top part of the wall. There’s a big counter with a glass case waiting to be filled, and tables and chairs stacked along the walls.

“It’s beautiful in here,” Vanessa says.

The blonde blushes. “Thanks. And thank you for your help, um…”

“Vanessa,” Vanessa says quickly. “I’m Vanessa.”

“Brooke.” She takes the box from Vanessa and sets it on the counter, eyes roaming around the room and a grin breaking out on her face. Vanessa recognizes the feeling–it’s the same one she had three years ago, when she couldn’t believe her cafe was really hers.

“When do you open?” Vanessa asks.

“Two weeks, if everything goes to plan. Just need to get the rest of the equipment in and finish everything up.”

Vanessa nods, hovering by the door awkwardly. There’s no reason for her to stay, but she can’t quite make herself leave. She wants to keep talking to Brooke, find out more about her. She watches Brooke blow on her hands to thaw them and an idea pops into her head.

“Hey, why don’t you come to my cafe and have coffee or something and warm up?” Vanessa offers.

Brooke smiles. “Lead the way.”

—

Vanessa sits with Brooke at the corner table right below the heat vent, watching her sip coffee and eat Vanessa’s famous grilled cheese and tomato sandwich.

“This is really good, Vanessa,” Brooke says, and Vanessa beams. She can’t help it. Even after three years of having her little cafe, watching people enjoy her food still warms her heart like the first time she made her mom pancakes and watched her devour them all. Everything Vanessa knows about cooking comes from dragging a chair over to the counter and watching her mom make dinner, and now she gets to be the one cooking.

“Thanks,” Vanessa says. “So, how’d you get into baking?”

Brooke finishes the last bite of her sandwich. “I always liked it. My grandma and I would make something whenever she babysat for me.” She pauses, sips her coffee. “I never went to culinary school or anything, but I’d make stuff for my friends a lot. Somehow they convinced me to start a little home business, and it kind of exploded. I started saving to have my own bakery, and now I do.” She gives a shy little smile that makes Vanessa melt.

“What about you?” Brooke asks.

Vanessa grins. “I basically ran a sandwich shop out of my dorm in college. The dining hall food was disgusting, so my mom got me a little panini press, and I started making grilled cheese and stuff for me and my roommates. Word got around and suddenly I was cooking for the whole building!”

Those had been some of her best days in college—people lined up and down the hall waiting for their sandwiches, bopping to the beat of the radio she had blasting and talking to her as she worked, even bringing their own ingredients for custom orders. And the best part of all: watching them bite into their sandwiches, closing their eyes and groaning about how good it was, like they were in a fancy restaurant and not a cinder block college dorm.

Brooke laughs, and Vanessa would do anything to hear that sound again.

“Somewhere in all that, I realized I loved cooking. It was exciting and relaxing at the same time, you know? So I did a bunch of restaurant jobs until I could finally open this place.”

Brooke nods. “It’s really nice here. Did you do all the decorating yourself?”

Vanessa glances around at the wall of framed posters bearing her favorite movies and singers, the fairy lights lining the walls, the fuzzy pom-pom banner draped in front of the counter, and nods proudly. “And the menu too. All the sandwiches are stuff I came up with myself.”

Brooke whistles. “That’s a lot of sandwiches.”

“Tell me about it. Took me months to come up with them all.” Vanessa must have tested hundreds of sandwiches in those months, adding and taking away and re-adding ingredients so many times her friends and family would run the other way when they saw her coming with samples. But after hours remixing and experimenting, her kitchen transformed into a science lab, Vanessa finally had her menu.

“I like it though,” Vanessa continues. “Trying new things and testing them out. Doing my own thing, you know? You can’t really do that with baking. Tried to do my own thing making a cake once and the thing exploded. I was cleaning my oven for days.”

Brooke laughs. “I get it. I think I like baking because of the rules. There’s certain things you have to follow, yeah, but such good stuff comes from it. And it’s–it’s kinda amazing how some of the techniques haven’t changed in hundreds of years.”

“You’re right,” Vanessa says. “I never thought of it like that. Making stuff’s always been special to me. It’s like making someone food is—“

“It’s like saying I love you.” Brooke blushes at what she’s just said and Vanessa does too.

“Yeah.”

There’s a beat so silent Vanessa hears A’keria muttering to herself about Vanessa’s extra-long break while she wrestles with a pile of spoons. Brooke looks at her empty plate and stands.

“I, uh, I should go. Got a lot of work to do.”

“Right.”

Brooke pulls out her wallet. “How much for–”

Vanessa waves her off. “On the house.” She smiles. “I wouldn’t say no to a chocolate cupcake once you open, though.”

Brooke grins. “You got it.”

She heads out, and Vanessa does more staring out the window than working for the rest of the day.

—

The next two weeks fly by. A’Keria takes over Vanessa’s spot in the window when a muscled moving crew hauls in Brooke’s equipment. Vanessa chases A’keria away for the rest, watching Brooke pace around inside her bakery, rearranging chairs and tables more times than Vanessa thought possible, sweeping with the ferocity of a hockey player, and talking to two girls Vanessa assumes are her assistants. Vanessa imagines Brooke’s delicate hands carefully piping frosting onto cupcakes or icing intricate designs on sugar cookies and has to smile.

Brooke’s been so busy that Vanessa hasn’t seen much of her, and she tells herself the little ache in her chest is just two weeks’ worth of heartburn. Brooke does stop in and asks Vanessa if she can put business cards and flyers on her community bulletin board, and Vanessa barely breathes as she and Brooke tack them up between advertisements for dance classes and library events, their shoulders brushing all the while.

It seems that all the flyers and advertising worked—the day Brooke opens, there’s a line of people stretched down the sidewalk, and Vanessa beams with pride for her. She knows how hard it can be to have a cafe, knows how amazing and necessary the customers are. She wants Brooke to succeed just as much as she has.

She watches all day as the line moves and people come out with bright white boxes and even brighter smiles.

Vanessa is closing up for the day when there’s a knock at the door. Lord help her if these are people ignoring the clear-as-day Closed sign to demand that she serves them.

But it’s not a pushy customer—it’s Brooke, with a tiny box in her hand and a huge smile on her face.

Vanessa grins too, her heart leaping in her chest.

“Big day for you, huh,” Vanessa says, guiding her into the cafe.

“Yeah.” Brooke sighs, rubbing at tired eyes. “I’m exhausted, but in the best way, you know?”

“I do.”

Brooke smiles again, and she offers the box to Vanessa.

“Is this—“

“I keep my promises.”

Vanessa opens the box to see a huge chocolate cupcake with swirled chocolate frosting dotted with tiny buttercream roses. There’s a little fondant tag on top, with something written in impeccably neat red icing. It’s a phone number, and Vanessa looks up at Brooke in wonder.

“If you want it, I mean,” Brooke clarifies, pointing to the number.

“Oh, I do.”

Brooke’s grin reaches her ears.

“Wanna go out for dinner this weekend?” Vanessa asks hopefully.

Brooke can’t nod fast enough. “I’ve got dessert covered.”

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #akeria davenport #branjie #lesbian au #bakery au #fluff #athena2 #concrit welcome #submission

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real-jaune-isms · 3 years

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RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 6 Review/Remix

The day finally came, and for some it was far far too late coming. Personally, I think this was a damn good time to get the story we got, but to each their own. It’s time to weave a wicked fairy tale, a twisted Cinderella Story without a happily ever after. Join me, won’t you?~

We open on a sight not terribly unfamiliar this Volume, young Cinder washing and scrubbing a wooden floor in raggedy clothing. A single tear seems to fall among the water, but she continues on. For a split second, we see a woman’s lower half as she walks through this barn setting before getting an exterior shot that yes this is a barn on what looks to be a very sparse farm. We get several quick cuts like this, and from what we see in them it becomes quite clear what sort of life Cinder is living. An orphan ostracized and bullied by other kids, already with a violent streak as she’s shown tackling one of her aggressors rather than passively taking the pain. She’s still fairly weak and starved compared to the others, since she gets pulled off her victim and tossed aside easily, and a closeup of her face shows some gaunt features. All that misery seems like it might turn around when the mystery woman we saw briefly decides she’ll take Cinder. Next thing she or the audience know, Cinder is in Atlas, standing outside a big fancy hotel and staring at the opulence with no small amount of wonder. Immediately, my thoughts shift from Cinderella to little orphan Annie and I gain some small measure of hope. But it cannot last, and the Madame (as she is solely credited despite clearly being our Lady Tremaine in this story) sternly ushers her inside the Glass Unicorn (I’d like to thank the person who helped me read that cursive golden light lettering). Once inside, Cinder is rather awestruck at the lavish lobby and all the happy people she sees within. (Meanwhile I took notice of the sign on the front desk openly declaring that they do not serve Faunus. Hooray for blatant systemic racism...) But she doesn’t have much time to look around, because she’s again brought deeper inside to the kitchen where we meet her new stepsisters. And what a pair, green eyes and light brown hair just like their mother, with devilish smirks of condescension. All Cinder can think about as she’s given her list of grueling chores is the platter of bread and cheese behind the twin devils. Priorities in a palace of plenty like this. You might think to yourself, well now that’s a little harsh for a couple of girls we’re literally just meeting. But don’t worry, they immediately prove how spiteful and cruel they are by laughing at Cinder for asking for food, and laughing even harder when the Madame throws a bread roll for her on the floor she just said was filthy. Great first impressions indeed, and I don’t think there’ll be a direct to DVD sequel to redeem either of them through time travel shenanigans... god I’m old.

We get a montage of Cinder in her new working uniform doing various jobs around the hotel for very little reward or praise. The guests don’t care, her stepsibs give her a slap on the wrist for trying to snack on one of the strawberries she was decorating a cake with... only to turn around and have one of them eat that same strawberry herself right in front of her, and any painful accidents she suffers in the line of duty are met with only disapproval and mocking laughter. She eats guests leftovers, and it seems like she’s the only employee here besides her new family, not that they’re doing much of the work. What really ties this sad montage together is an as of yet unnamed song to that has been serving as Cinder’s leitmotif for years but now has lyrics. Those lyrics, as poor luck would have it, are insults and orders that Cinder must have heard everyday in this life of slavery and misery. “Do your chores, rub my feet, no one said that you could think, no one’s ever loved you, etc.” There’s obviously more of an order and rhyme to them, but I wanted to lay out some of the harshest kickers. We see a particular instance of suffering where she’s cleaning the carpets on the second floor and her sisters start stomping mud right in front of her just to mock her with “You missed a spot~” and give her more work to do. Cinder has taken just about enough now, and her Semblance kicks in for what might be the first time as she starts heating up the wet brush in her hand. She throws it at them in anger and it creates a cloud of steam and possibly smoke depending on how much of that wooden brush she burned. This gets the attention of her stepmother of course, but also that of a mysterious huntsman who had been showing off a new sword in the lobby much to Cinder’s earlier distant amazement. The Madame is none too happy with the scene Cinder has just caused or the fact that she lashed out against her actual daughters. So she gives the poor girl a necklace... with a stone of electric Dust in it. It’s a shock collar, and every time Cinder acts out from this point on, or just doesn’t do well enough for her stepmother’s standards, she will be painfully shocked and forced to apologize with a mantra we’re now all too familiar with. “Without you, I am nothing...”

Next thing we see, Cinder is crawling through a vent into a secret room in the back of the hotel. Based on the tons of furniture covered in sheets back here and the mattress with a couple pillows, I’d say this is what passes as her bedroom with how little fucks her adopted family gives. The Huntsman from earlier is heard being rather pissed that one of his swords is missing, and I get a small amount of sick satisfaction hearing one of the stepsisters panic in the face of his complaints and deliver a trademarked customer service line, “I apologize for the inconvenience”. I hear that every damn day in my day job, and I know how it feels to be where she is. After tormenting Cinder, they deserve to squirm. Naturally, Cinder was the one who took it, but is caught admiring it in her little hideaway by the Huntsman it belongs to himself. In the credits and subtitles his name is revealed to be Rhodes, and the public opinion on him becomes... mixed at best as time goes by. At the very least, here he confronts her without fighting her and disarms her with reassuring words. He knows she’s getting an awful deal here, but hurting these people and running away will solve nothing. She’ll be running for the rest of her life if she did that, never having a place to safely call home. He offers her an alternative, one she seems to pick up on quickly. Becoming a Huntress and gaining her freedom through that official title. But here we get a real sudden kick in the teeth. At this point, Cinder is only 10 years old. No 10 year old should be suffering the way she is, and if I were Rhodes I would try and have the Madame exposed and arrested for her abusive crimes. But we unfortunately don’t know if any child protective services exist that he could go to about this problem, and instead he tries a different approach. He’s not going to be staying here forever, but he’ll be back and forth over the next 7 years, and during that time he’ll train her to be ready for the Huntsman exams. This sounds like a good plan on paper, but then you realize what it means for her. Enduring 7 years of this abuse and pain, on the dangling carrot promise that she can leave one day and finally have some chance at decency. It’s the bare minimum effort on his part, and it makes him feel like a hero without having to actually inconvenience himself and fight for her freedom. She deserves better, but she’s sadly not getting it. Still, she does get training.

We see time pass, he comes and goes, she keeps getting shocked and her resentment keeps growing. She gets older, her uneven pigtails become a short ponytail, and one day he gifts her the sword she had once stolen. She’s earned it, and in a couple more years she’ll be free to use it for her dream job. Too bad this was entirely the wrong move on his part. Cinder has something nice, and the stepsisters won’t stand for that, especially since it’s a dangerous weapon. They tattle to the Madame, and Cinder’s punishment is soon to come worse than ever before. Or so they would like to think. They go into the back to confront her at 11:40, and Rhodes walks in the front door at 11:56. There’s no one to greet him, not a sound to be heard until he gets to the front desk and picks up a distant crash. He gets to Cinder’s room, all too late. The stepsisters lie dead on the floor while Cinder is choking her stepmother to death with her bare hand. She tries in vain to subdue her with the remote for her shock collar, but the pain is just a stinging motivator she’s grown to tolerate. She may have been made to feel like she is nothing without the opportunities given to her by this woman, but now she is EVERYTHING because of what hell she has been through. Cinder snaps her neck and tosses her aside to be faced with her mortified mentor. The clock is striking midnight, and Cinderella did not use her gifts wisely at the ball. But it’s okay, right? Now her tormentors are gone and she won’t have to run anymore, right? Right, Rhodes??? No. Now he’s decided she’s too far gone and he has to fight her, to arrest her for the triple homicide that was most assuredly a mixture of self defense and cathartic revenge. Cinder realizes that even this man she trusted is her enemy, and with the last chime of the clock the spell of her temporary happiness is broken. The two fight, and seem evenly matched for a time, Cinder countering his Semblance of turning his skin to metal by using her own to heat the metal and still hurt him. I should like to point out that this power of his makes for a great layered pun, as it is similar to the mutant power of the X-Men character Colossus, and there is a famous Greek statue of the sun god Helios known as the Colossus of Rhodes. Back to the fight, Cinder temporarily blinds him by throwing a sandbag that he slices into, and in that confusion swipes his second sword so they can both dual wield since he primarily uses a set of maces. She gets a few clean slices in and takes out his Aura, but he bashes her away to hit a chest and there goes her Aura in return. He assumes the fight is over and goes to collect her unconscious body, but she was playing possum and stabs him in the gut with both swords. In his final moments, he lays a hand on her head as if saying he’s proud of her for growing so much. You may have had good intentions, Rhodes, but you were not a very good person and didn’t do enough to call yourself a Huntsman. I can’t imagine what kind of hell a Chaotic Good huntsman like Qrow would have done if he had been the one to find Cinder, but it probably would have been better than the surface level hero work this guy did. As things stand, we know Cinder is heading down the bad path and takes one last sad moment to finally tear her necklace off and cry a single tear up at the moon.

We cut back to present as she wakes up in what I assume is her room aboard Monstra. Emerald is happy to see her awake, but Cinder chastises her for bringing them back to Salem emptyhanded. Em tries to assert that she put her concern for her mentor above the mission and its the sole reason they’re free and alive at all, but Mercury comes in to remind her that a repeat failure like Cinder doesn’t deserve that help. Em tries to stand up for her boss, to say that she was right to go attack Amity because the goodie goodies were up to something and they did a lot to stop it, but Mercury lays the heavy truth bomb on her again. Don’t defend Cinder, you’re not gonna win her love and support because she doesn’t give a shit about you. Cinder shuts them both up and dismisses them until she has need of them, much like the dismissive way Salem treated her a few episodes back. But Mercury got promoted, Cinder’s not his supervisor anymore and he doesn’t have to listen to her. Hearing that takes some wind out of Cinder’s sails, and she’s left alone to stew about this turn of events as Merc tells her everyone is needed on the bridge cuz something big is gonna happen.

Shifting to another room, Oscar is lying on the floor with a black eye and some blood on his lip, and probably a bunch of broken bones and internal bleeding. This poor poor kid... He and Oz are having a discussion about who should be the one in the driver’s seat for these beatings. Oscar sure as hell doesn’t deserve it, but since he’s not the one Hazel is mad at he’s not getting roughed up quite as much as if Oz was present. Oz wants to take over, to try and get them a way out of here, but Oscar thinks they have a golden opportunity if they stay. Oz is initially unsure what that means, but Oscar has some solid reasoning. Salem doesn’t do the fighting herself, she turns people to her side and has them fight her battles. Her spies sow seeds of chaos and discourse among her enemies, and now Oscar can do the same. They can try and talk some sense into Hazel or the kids and turn them against Salem. She won’t be beaten, surely, but she’ll be crippled without her eyes ears and devious hands. No time like the present, as Hazel comes back in for round... idk, maybe 10? Oscar gives Oz control again and Hazel is immediately pissed to recognize that tone of voice again. He assumes Oz had been hiding inside Oscar and forcing the kid to endure the pain instead of him, not realizing it was the reverse and Oscar was being selfless. But rather than argue that, Ozcar tries to get Hazel to see the cruel reality of it all. He won’t deny he has done wrong by this man, but how is Salem somehow the better choice? He should be fighting to stop her and her evils. Hazel stops for a moment, reveals his feelings on the matter. She can’t be stopped, he’s seen that himself. She’s an unstoppable force, and Oz is the worse of the two for knowing this and still sending people to try and stop her. Oz argues that someone has to at least try, that yes she actually can be fought and slowed and steered astray. But if she gets what she wants and gathers the relics... well, he doesn’t get a chance to reveal that much because Salem herself enters the room and welcomes her old love back to the grace of her company. It’s time to bring him to his front row seat for the impending show.

It begins with a show of force and loyalty, all her underlings bowing before her on her throne. Em and Neo are off to the side and Hazel is forcing Oscar to bow too, but Mercury Cinder and Tyrian have all taken a knee right in front of their queen. Good news everyone, Watts presumably got Ironwood’s Scroll working and reported his successful takeover of Penny back to Tyrian and thus to Salem. Both men have proven their value, while Cinder’s rogue stunt has put her worth to the cause in serious question. Just like so many years ago, Cinder starts writhing in agonizing pain, this time inflicted by her own Grimm arm. Good to know Salem’s gift of a new limb was also a way to enforce punishment... But unlike the Madame, Salem claims to blame herself for Cinder’s disobedience. She’s been stifling Cinder’s drive for power and freedom, it’s no wonder she did what she did. She should be giving her chances to grow and rise, and so now she is. Cinder’s new mission is to go free Watts from jail and with his help murder Penny for the Winter Maiden powers. But it will be a challenge to prove herself, because Salem is also sending the Hound for the very same job. Both outcomes will result in Cinder getting the powers and Salem getting the Staff from the Vault, but only one will truly be an earned victory for Cinder and she damn well knows it. Ozcar tries to object, to say getting the Relics will doom them all, but hush now little fool~ You’re too late.

Cutting immediately away from that frightening situation, we get Winter and the Ace Ops flying out over the tundra in search of Penny. Elm is complaining about having to retrieve “broken junk” and how they shouldn’t trust Watts or his technology. Good point about trusting Watts, but we’re well past that problem now. Winter barks at Elm to stop whining and act professional. They pick up a comm signal, and it turns out to be from Jaune warning anyone who can hear it about the Grimm river. They head for the source of the signal, and the two groups cross paths under the most tense of tenses. Jaune gets to business and tries to get these professional huntsmen, public servants of their kingdom, to come deal with this unprecedented threat. But Harriet just wants to know where Penny is and refuses to acknowledge any problem except the one she was sent to deal with, so she blames these three kids who haven’t seen Penny in like 12 hours for whatever danger there is. Thankfully, she shuts up when a tremor rocks all of Mantle. The tremors keep building, even the Grimm take some amount of notice. Then it stops again. Then the biggest one yet hits, and suddenly the riverbed is empty. A geyser of primal Grimm goo blasts up into the side of Atlas, and it’s persistent enough that a big splash of it gets through the Hard Light shields. Out of the goo comes a swarm of centinels, who crawl up to the towers projecting the shield over the Kingdom itself and burrow into the ground around one of these towers. An airship blasts a laser down, but it can only get one target at a time and the rest burrow in. Down plummets one tower, and with it goes the entire shield. It’s like a string of Christmas lights with a single bad bulb, and that’s not a design flaw you want in the first line of defense around a major metropolitan area. As people across the Kingdom, including the team hiding out in Schnee Manor and a for once knocked off kilter General Ironwood, watch on in horror, Salem makes her move. Monstra swoops in and crests beautifully over the edge of Atlas, and then comes crashing down in the midst of the farmlands on the edge of the city with a bellyflop. The colossal aquatic mammal of the air opens its dark maw, and out floods a wave of more grimm sludge. From that primordial ooze arises just about every variety of Grimm we have ever seen with the exception of Kevin, Jim&Randall, Levi, and the Hound. The battle for Atlas has begun, and there are a wardrobe’s worth of white Atlesian military pants to be darkened. And this isn’t even the mid-season finale! So there’s even worse things sure to come! Can’t wait~

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angelsfalling16 · 4 years

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Love and Porta Potties

A remix of @caitybuglove23‘s porta potty fic

This started out as me just wanting to remix their original fic with some Shrek references, but it turned into me rewriting it as an American AU and expanding it in both directions.

This was a lot of fun to write, and I hope you like it, Caity! 💖☀

(Btw, if you haven’t read their fic yet, you definitely should. It’s amazing!)

Thanks so much to @amphipodgirl and @scone-lover for beta-reading!! <3

Fic Summary: A series of events throughout Simon and Baz’s relationship that happen in porta potties, some of them good, some of them messy, and some of which they don’t speak of.

Word count: 2416

Here’s chapter one of three. The next chapter will be up on Wednesday!

Read on ao3

***

Simon

Baz and I have slowly been getting along better recently. It is just a little unfortunate that it took us until the end of high school to get to this point because it has actually been really nice.

In fact, it has been more than nice. I think I might be starting to like him. Like really like him.

It hit me slowly at first, but the more I got to know him, the more I realized how much I like him. I think I might like him a lot. I just wish that I knew if he felt the same way.

Every once in a while, I get this feeling that he might like me too, and that feeling has been pretty constant today, especially as we talk and walk around with each other.

The fair is in town this weekend, so we decided to go with our friends as one last get together before we start college in the fall. It's the first time that Baz and I have hung out outside of school, and besides a little bit of awkwardness at the beginning, it has been a lot of fun. Even our friends have been getting along. Or at least, no one has insulted anybody else yet.

Dev and Niall have stuck pretty close together and not said much to the rest of us, but Penny has surprisingly had a lot to say to Baz. I never thought I'd see the day where those two would be friends, but they seem to have really hit it off.

It almost makes me jealous to see my best friend get along better than I am with the guy that I'm crushing on, but I know that there is nothing to worry about there. Plus, it’s nice that they get along well. I would hate for Penny to disapprove of someone that I like.

On the rides Dev and Niall pair up together, and Penny won't go on any of them, which has left Baz and me together. She says that they are all death machines that shouldn't be running when they were put up so quickly. I tried to tell her that they probably do safety checks and point out that people have been riding them all day without any accidents. Her response was “yet,” and that was that.

It has been surprisingly fun to do all of this with Baz. He seemed hesitant about the rides at first as well, but he has followed me into the line for each ride that I've decided to go on so far.

Right now, as the sun sits low in the sky, casting darkness on the fairgrounds, we are in line for the ferris wheel. It's a pretty mild ride compared to the rest, but I notice the way that Baz eyes the top, like he might be afraid of heights or something.

"Hey," I say quietly, bumping my elbow lightly against his side. "We don't have to go on this if you don't want to."

He looks over at me with a peculiar expression, like he's trying to read me, before looking back up at the ride. It's almost our turn to get on. I think the longest part of this whole thing is loading people on and off.

We shuffle forward a few more steps. He shakes his head, but I'm not sure if it's at me or the ride.

"Baz," I begin again, but then we're at the front of the line and being ushered into the little cart together.

He turns to me long enough to say, "I'm good, Snow." Then, he steps up into the ride, and I follow after.

We don't say anything as our cart is raised bit by bit while the rest are being filled. I drum my fingers against my leg with a sort of nervous anticipation. I wish that Baz would say something to tell me what he's thinking.

He has been oddly quiet, and I'm starting to feel like maybe I did something wrong. Did I upset him? Have I been viewing this whole thing the wrong way? Did he go on this ride because he felt like he had to? Is he here at the fair because he felt like he had to come? Am I just some bothersome gnat that he can't seem to get rid of? Does he want to be here at all?

I start to feel a little sick, and it isn’t because of all of the sugar or numerous fried items that I've eaten in the past hour. It isn’t because of the ride either. I need a distraction, but the only thing here is Baz. And while he is kind of the thing that I need a distraction from, he is also the best kind of distraction.

"Did you know that this is the first time that I've been to a fair?" I ask as I look out at all of the people walking around the booths and standing in line. It seems like I can see everything from up here.

"Really?" Baz asks softly.

I nod. "Yeah. Didn't exactly go to one when I was in the orphanages. And even in the nicer foster homes I stayed in for a while, they either didn't go or didn't invite me so that they wouldn’t have to spend money on me."

I'm rambling now and wondering if I should shut up, but I keep talking. It keeps my mind off of the other worries.

"I would always pass by the fairgrounds and see them setting up or the flashing lights on the rides in the evening, and it would seem like this whole other world that I would never be a part of. It was sort of beautiful and sad at the same time."

Baz is quiet for a long time, and I worry that I somehow managed to say the wrong thing. Was bringing up my past the wrong thing to do? He probably doesn’t care about any of this, and now I’m forcing him to have an awkward conversation with me. I definitely screwed this up. He’ll never want to talk to me again after this.

I’m just about to tell him to forget I said anything when he finally replies with, "How do you feel now that you're here?"

I think about that for a moment before I respond. How do I feel? It’s been nice, but I feel like that might have more to do with the current company than with what I have been doing. Still, it definitely isn’t terrible.

"It's fun and all but it seems like I was making a big deal out of nothing. Like it’s not as special as I thought it was. But it's still a good experience, y'know?"

He nods. "Yeah, I think so. It's the feeling of being excluded from something without really knowing what you're missing out on. It's hard not to wonder about it."

"Yeah, exactly."

He managed to put into words the thing that I've never quite managed to. He does that quite a bit. I'll struggle to explain something, and he'll know exactly what I’m talking about and doesn't make me feel bad about not being able to be clearer with my words.

I appreciate that more than I could possibly say.

I start to say something else, maybe something more about what I'm feeling, but then the ride lurches, and we start to move up to the top in a slow, revolving circle.

We ride in silence for a while before I notice that Baz has a death grip on the side of the ride, and he seems to be leaning as close to the middle as possible. His thigh is practically pressed up against mine, and even though we have been closer than this today, what with how much those other rides throw you into the person you’re riding with, I can feel my heart racing in my chest.

"Are you okay?" I ask him, forcing myself not to think about the way that I can smell his shampoo when he's this close.

He nods.

"You don't seem all that thrilled to be on this ride."

"I just feel like I could easily fall out the side. It's probably stupid because this ride is so calm compared to the others, but it doesn't seem as stable as the rest were." He shifts in the seat and our cart rocks harder than it should, and I actually hear him inhale. He really is afraid.

"Why did you come on this ride if you were that afraid?" I ask, not judging but genuinely curious.

He doesn't answer though because he's too focused on apparently trying to look anywhere but at me.

Is it that awful for him to be around me?

"Hey," I say softly but he just shakes his head. I place my hand on his shoulder and try again, even softer this time, "Hey, look at me. You're okay."

It takes him a moment, but he finally tears his eyes away from the ground far below and looks at me.

"Hey," I say again, offering a small smile.

"Hi," he replies.

"You're safe. I'm right here, and we aren't going to fall." The ride jolts again but then it slows to a stop. "See? The ride’s over. We'll be back on the ground soon enough and you'll be fine. Okay?"

He nods and starts to turn away but I place my hand on his cheek to turn his face back to mine.

"Keep your eyes on me. And don't look down."

He does as I say, and we sit there staring at each other in silence until it's our turn to get off the ride. There's a moment where I think I might lean forward and kiss him, but it passes too quickly for me to decide whether it's a terrible idea or not.

Baz is a little shaky and pale as we walk away from the ferris wheel, but he seems a little better now that his feet are firmly planted on the ground.

I want to say something to him, but I'm still trying to figure out what when Penny comes bounding over to us.

"What next?" she asks excitedly, as if she hasn't just been wandering around playing games or watching us ride the rides the entire time.

Baz looks to me, and I shrug. I feel like I'm still at the top of the ride, mere inches from him as we stare into each other's eyes like we're looking into each other's souls.

I want to go back to that moment to see if I was just imagining that look in his eyes or if there is some possibility that he might actually like me back. It's doubtful, but I have a bit of hope.

"Oh! Look what I won!" Penny holds up a Shrek plush, and I smile. She and I used to watch that movie all the time when we were putting off homework or just needed a break.

"It's cute," Baz says.

"Cute?" I repeat.

"You think Shrek is cute?" Penny grins wickedly, and I can already tell that Baz is never going to live this down.

"Uh th-that’s not quite what I meant," he tries to say, but it's too late.

"Sure it's not," Penny says with a laugh. "I mean, I guess he's cute if you like green skin and poor hygiene." She laughs even harder, and I can't help but join in. It's contagious.

Dev and Niall walk up a moment later looking at the three of us curiously.

"What's so funny?" Niall asks.

"Nothing," Baz snaps before either Penny or I can say anything. "I'm going to use the restroom. I'll be right back."

“Wow, braving the porta potty?” Dev says, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

Baz just shrugs, glancing at me briefly before he turns away. I can't quite read his expression, but it seems like he wants to say something to me.

I wait a moment before excusing myself to the restroom as well.

I watch which one Baz goes into, and before he can lock it, I step in after him.

“What the—? Snow, what are you doing in here?”

“You told me to follow you.”

“No, I didn’t! There's no room in here." He tries to shift away from me but there’s nowhere for him to go.

“Yeah, you did. Well, not aloud because our friends were there, but you told me to with your eyes.”

“With my eyes? Snow, I didn’t say anything with my eyes. I just really needed to piss.”

“Oh....” I shrug and look down at our feet. “I’m sorry. I-I guess I just misread the situation.”

“You think?”

“I guess I probably misread this whole night, too?” I ask, starting to feel really bad.

Did I make all of this up in my head?

“Wait, misread it how?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I thought this was kind of a date. I thought you were flirting with me or something. I know how much you hate these rides, but you kept going on them with me, even when no one else would. I guess I just thought….” I trail off, shaking my head. “Sorry. I guess I was wrong.”

I turn to leave, but before I can even unlock the door, I feel his hand on my wrist, pulling me back around to face him.

"What—?" I begin but then he presses his lips to mine, effectively shutting me up.

My whole body seems to relax as we kiss. I’m practically melting into him as he wraps an arm around my waist to pull me closer.

I cannot believe that we're having our first kiss in a porta potty.

We kiss for a long moment before he releases me.

“You weren’t wrong,” he murmurs, the corner of his mouth twitching into an almost smile.

“Okay.” I’m smiling stupidly, but I don’t care. I’m happy.

“Now, could you give me some privacy? I really do need to piss.”

“Right." I say, my face warming. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. It really is okay.”

"Okay." I smile and step out.

Someone steps up to use the one I’ve just left, and I feel my face heat up even more as I say, “Sorry, still occupied.”

The guy raises his eyebrows at me, and I hurry away, back to where Penny and the others are waiting.

#snowbaz #snowbaz fic #simon snow #baz pitch #carry on #wayward son #rainbow rowell #snowbaz fanfiction #my writing #love and porta potties #what a terrible title #haha #but it's good enough

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kaistarus · 4 years

Text

Clickbait(YouTubeAU)--Ch 8

Pairings: Kiribaku; Tododeku; Seromina

Words: 4,678

Summary: A lot of great things came with being a big name YouTuber, but along with those perks were some serious drawbacks. One of the biggest being your lack of personal privacy. Due to just one video, Kirishima's least well-kept secret has become a viral sensation overnight, and now he has to deal with the repercussions from both the YouTube community and the public. Hopefully, those he's dragging down with him won't mind...

Notes: She’s alive! lol here’s the next update finally... coronavirus right? wtf is that about. Anyway, Camie deserves more love, so I gave it to her :)

Read the full story here

As Kirishima took in the two-story house, packed full of college kids that spilled into the crushed White Claws and red solo cups yard, he realized he may be in over his head.

“Well, we definitely have the right address,” Sero said, side-stepping a couple as they wobbled past, clinging heavily onto each other as their laughs rang a little too loudly through the crisp night air.

Kirishima nodded in agreeance. The strong bass from the music inside the chipping red-paint college house shook the ground beneath him. He tried to guess what song the cheap LA DJ had remixed beyond repair, but deemed it hopeless with such a sporadic rhythm.

“This party is sick,” Kaminari smirked, pointing to the cheap christmas lights hanging on the second-story balcony that flashed to the music’s beat. As if that boosted a party’s rating in any way.

“Camie should be around here somewhere…” Mina pushed her lips into a pout, absentmindedly wandering up the sidewalk while staring at her phone. Kirishima smirked as Sero shot death stares at the people playing beer pong who did nothing to hide themselves checking Mina out.

“If we’re lucky she won’t show up at all.”

Kirishima glanced over to Bakugou, hands shoved deep into his pockets and glaring at the drunken students that could no longer control their volume. His eyes trailed down to the black t-shirt Bakugou wore that accentuated his chest just right and after admiring the view shot the grumpy boy a wide smile.

“Aren’t you and Camie friends?”

A sneer covered his face. “In her mind.”

“She’s so cool though.” Mina said, giving Bakugou a confused look over her shoulder. “We’ve been talking since your party and she’s, like, the nicest person ever.”

“No wonder Bakugou doesn’t like her.” Sero said as he fiddled around with the camera he brought. They couldn’t forget the vlog after all. The whole point of being here was to work.

“Well, that’s not right. Kirishima’s the goodest boy alive and Bakugou like likes him.” Kaminari pointed out.

“Yeah, because Kirishima isn’t annoying as fuck.” Bakugou crossed his arms with a sneer on his face. Kirishima felt a blush creep up his neck because even though they’d made it clear they had feelings for each other, it still felt surreal anytime Bakugou stated it so boldly.

It didn’t help that Mina was wiggling her eyebrows and making kissy faces behind Bakugou’s back.

“So romantic,” Sero said with a laugh. “Can’t wait for the day someone tells me I’m not annoying as fuck.”

“Don’t hold your breath.” Mina teased, sticking out her tongue at Sero’s pout.

Manning the front door of the house was an exhausted looking guy, slouching in a rusted metal chair. Without taking his eyes up from his smartphone he extended his hand up to the group.

“If you’re a girl you’re free and if you’re a boy it’s five dollars.”

Mina blew them a raspberry as she skipped into the party while Kirishima suddenly remembered why he disliked going to parties during his short-lived college career. As he dug through his jean pockets for the crumpled five he knew existed somewhere-beneath his house keys, one of Mina’s scrunchies, and a spare chapstick that’s been washed several times and useless-the guy glanced up and went slackjaw.

“Holy shit,” he dropped his phone onto his lap and scrambled to sit up straight. “Are you fucking--Is it really--RedRiot?”

Kirishima blinked a couple times before Kaminari slung an arm around him. “Yep. RedRiot and friends.”

The guy stuttered several times before finally noticing Bakugou. “And you--you’re that angry ghost hunter guy!”

Bakugou’s eye twitched and he tried to calmly ground out. “I’m not a fucking ghost hunter.”

“Okay,” Kirishima grabbed Bakugou’s tightened fist to calm him down. “Uh, yeah that’s us. Is that okay? We don’t have to be here if--”

“Dude, no way. Go ahead.” The guy ushered them through the door, careful to not touch Bakugou as he practically growled at him.

“Really? I have five dollars it’s no big deal if--”

Kirishima was pulled through the threshold without finalizing his offer. As he followed his friends further into the house, weaving through clumps of people congregated together, he continued to look back guiltily.

“What?” Bakugou asked.

“I feel bad.” Kirishima said earnestly. “I shouldn’t get special privileges just because I’m a YouTuber. That wasn’t fair to all the other people who--”

Bakugou pinched his cheek and shook Kirishima's face around. Kirishima was too confused with the action to get properly upset about it, and the fond look in Bakugou’s scarlet stare completely wiped his mind.

“I promise you with how cheap their fucking alcohol is and how many drunk idiots are here their making more than enough money. Your five dollars means nothing.” Bakugou’s mouth lifted into a quick smile before squeezing Kirishima’s cheek and releasing it. Kirishima rubbed at the spot. “You’re too good.”

“I just feel bad…”

Bakugou poked Kirishima’s forehead repetitively. “Don’t waste time worrying about stupid things.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes, but in a way uniquely Bakugou, his words had given him a bit of relief.

“Alright guys. I’ve found the booze and I’ll be back” Kaminari shot them finger guns and began backing away towards the only room lit up by overhead lights and not cheap fairy lights.

“We won’t be seeing him for a while.” Sero said, searching around the room for a different reason.

“Don’t you usually give Sparky a babysitter?” Bakugou asked.

“Sometimes,” Kirishima shrugged. “He’ll survive probably.”

“Holy shit,” a high-pitched voice squealed. “Is that Blasty?”

Bakugou’s shoulders shot to his ears and his eyes pinched closed in preparation before he was tackled into a tight hug, arms around his neck as the assailant's legs lifted off the ground. Bakugou was quick to shake her off and hold the snickering girl at a distance.

“Look who I ran into.” Mina announced as she skipped up to them trailing behind Camie.

“Glad you guys could make it,” Camie smirked, her arm now clinging tight around Bakugou’s shoulders.

“Thanks for the invite.” Kirishima smiled.

“No problem at all. If I would’ve known you guys were legit dating I would’ve invited you out here weeks ago!” She pulled Bakugou down and ruffled his hair, while he wiggled himself out of her grip. “I never would’ve guessed Blasty could land a hottie like you.” She said with several nudges to Bakugou’s stomach. He shoved her away again, yet she remained unbothered.

“Well, we haven’t really--”

“Would you fuck off.” Bakugou said, still pushing Camie away by her face, but rather than taking offense she just began giggling before gripping Bakugou’s nose playfully.

“Aww, is our little Blasty embarrassed?” She asked while moving his head back and forth. He went to swipe at her hand, but she’d already let go and leapt behind Kirishima for cover. “Geez, keep a leash on this one. Am I right?”

Kirishima chuckled awkwardly, shrugging at Bakugou helplessly as Camie stuck her tongue out at the fuming boy from over Kirishima’s shoulder.

“What’s with everyone calling him Blasty?” Mina asked between giggles, the glare from Bakugou doing nothing to quell her amusement. “You and Uraraka both use it.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened. “It’s not fucking important for--”

“Oh my god. That’s the best story.” Camie said skipping to Mina’s side.

“Don’t you have something better to do than annoy the fuck out of me?” Bakugou growled.

“Oh, Bakubaby. You know I don’t.” Camie said with a devilish smile. “So, Bakugou’s first year in college, during his first ever chem lab, right? He was obviously trying to show off, cause like, he’s Bakugou...”

Kirishima half listened to Camie's embarrassing story of Bakugou pre-YouTube, adding Bakugou’s apparent love for chemistry to his neverending list of interesting Baku-facts, while simultaneously admiring how Bakugou looked under the dim college party lights. The humidity of the densely packed house left a slick sheen across Bakugou’s forehead and his normally chaotic hair was weighed down by the air. The thick scent of alcohol left Kirishima feeling slightly enthralled, and with the lights darkened and music covering whispers, he was beginning to understand the few couples pinning each other in the corners.

“Anyway, I hear they still tell the tale of the great Bakugou Katsuki explosion before every Freshman’s first Chem lab.” Camie laughed before taking a swig from her red solo cup, wiping the dribble from the corner of her mouth inelegantly. Bakugou was sneering at her and Kirishima could practically feel the steam rolling off him from the short distance between them.

He gave Bakugou’s bicep a small squeeze, definitely to calm him down and not for any personal pleasure, and shot him a crooked grin. “Don’t worry about it. Kaminari embarrasses himself worse on a daily basis.”

Bakugou looked between Kirishima’s grip and his eyes before scoffing. “Whatever.”

“Speaking of our idiot.” Sero looked at Mina. “We should probably go find him.”

Kirishima nodded. It had been a little too long that Kaminari had been by himself. They needed to both check that he was still alive, and if he had done anything stupid enough they could at least put it in the vlogs. Just as they began pushing through the crowd toward the kitchen Mina abruptly stopped the train.

“Do you hear that?”

Kirishima’s stomach sank as he slowly turned back toward the main room of the house. The owners of the house had removed the majority of their furniture and belongings from what appeared to be the living room. What remained was a bookshelf and a couch both shoved against a far wall and somehow, atop the bookshelf, their idiot was bouncing around. The crowd around him chanted ‘Chargebolt’ as he danced pathetically to a remixed version of something Kirishima thought he heard on the radio, but couldn’t tell anymore.

“How’d he even get up there?” Sero’s eyes widened as they watched Kaminari start chugging from a bottle of Whiskey. “How’d he get that?”

Kaminari began circling his butt in some semblance of a rhythm as he slowly turned around and while stretching his arms he began to crouch. The group started to panic and Kirishima began shoving his way forward.

“Is your friend going to jump?” Camie asked, completely stunned.

Kirishima barely broke into the crowd before Kaminari had back flopped onto it. His heart stopped as he watched his friend hardly lift off the shelf in a lame attempt to crowd surf, certain Kaminari was about to die. Miraculously, the drunken group of college kids had used their several collective brain cells to come together and catch him. The mass of people cheered loudly as Kaminari was passed around and Kirishima walked slowly back to his friends who all were staring at the event in equal zombie like states.

“I need a fucking drink,” Bakugou stated already stepping away from their circle before gesturing back to Kirishima. “Want something?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Anything is fine.”

“Can you get me one too?” Mina smiled, fluttering her false lashes.

Bakugou shot a middle finger over his shoulder in response as he pushed his way past sweaty bodies dancing too close for comfort. Kirishima smiled softly, a warmth filled his chest as he kept eyes on him as long as he could.

“Your boyfriend is rude.” Mina said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Kirishima felt another blush creep up. “Well, we aren’t exactly--.”

“They’re so cute,” Camie cooed, grabbing her cheeks and ignoring how her drink spilled onto the floor. “I’ve never seen Bakugou so whipped.”

“All he did was get drinks.” Kirishima raised an eyebrow.

“Please, he’s been staring at you like a lovesick puppy this whole time.” Camie said, sighing wistfully. “I’ve literally never seen him look at anyone like that before, unless it was himself in a mirror.”

Sero hummed. “There’s a lot to unpack in that sentence.”

“Oh, shut up.” Mina whacked his shoulder lightly.

“I’m just saying,” Sero put his hands up in defense. “I know this is LA, but that’s taking self-love a little too far, right?”

Mina smacked his chest with both her fists and Sero grabbed them playfully. They started up their usual bickering, Sero a teasing lilt in his voice and a light pink dusting Mina’s cheeks.

“Ugh, is everybody here lovey-dovey?” Camie frowned over the rim of her cup. “I’m starting to feel left out.”

Mina whipped her attention toward Camie and quickly stepped away from Sero. “What that’s--we aren’t… I don’t know what you--”

“Relax, it’s a joke.” Camie waved her cup in Mina’s direction with a mischievous smirk. Kirishima felt almost guilty about enjoying Mina’s embarrassment. But, at least he wasn’t posting a video about their possible relationship for the world...

He raised an eyebrow, thoughtfully.

“Back,” Bakugou nudged Kirishima’s shoulder while handing him and Mina drinks. After avoiding Mina’s appreciative hug he saddled up on Kirishima’s far side away from both her and Camie.

“Hey party people!” Kaminari slurred, wobbling his way out of the crowd he’d sunken down into earlier. “Did you see my sick crowd surf?”

“Hell yeah!” Camie raised her hand for a high-five. “That shit was sick, bro.”

Kaminari blinked before breaking out into a huge grin and reciprocating the high-five. “Yeah! Someone who finally gets it.”

“Great. Now there’s two dumb fuck blondes.” Bakugou sneered over the rim of his red solo. Kirishima snickered into his cup and Bakugou raised both eyebrows in question.

“It’s just… you’re also blonde… so…”

“Yeah, but I’m hot and a genius.”

Kirishima tilted his head in confusion. “What does being hot have to do with being smart?”

“So you agree?” Bakugou pressed a finger against Kirishima’s forehead that he followed with crossed-eyes. “You think I’m hot?”

Kirishima shoved his hand away with a red face and began sputtering. “I never--That’s not what I--I mean, yeah, but you can’t just--”

“Calm down,” Bakugou rolled his eyes with a cocky smirk that sent Kirishima’s heart into orbit. Bakugou reached forward and gripped onto Kirishima’s cheeks again to shake his head around. “It’s a joke.”

Kirishima’s eye twitched and he shoved his hand away from his face. “Why do you keep pinching my cheeks?”

Bakugou blinked a few times before poking Kirishima’s cheek instead. “‘Cause they’re fucking squishy looking.”

“What does that mean?”

“I dunno.” Bakugou furrowed his eyebrows. “It just means I want to touch them.”

Kirishima tilted his head at Bakugou’s statement, trying to mull over the words, but ended up with nothing. He couldn’t even tell if he’d been insulted or not, but by the puzzled look on Bakugou’s face neither did he.

“Hey, lover boys,” Mina clapped to garner their attention. “We’re heading outside to play some beer pong. You guys in or you gonna stay here and flirt some more?”

Bakugou immediately snapped out of his stupor with a dangerous smirk. “Is that a fucking challenge Pinky?”

“It can be.” Mina’s eyes sparked with fire. “Think you can handle it?”

Bakugou chuckled darkly, sending a chill down Kirishima’s spine as Bakugou raced Mina through the bodies that clung tighter together the longer the night went on. Kirishima shook his head as he watched them, trailing after at half the speed.

He welcomed the cool night air that chilled his overheated skin from the muggy building. The contrast of noise once Kirishima exited the door was immense. The music toned down greatly and was replaced with people whispering intoxicated secrets they’d likely regret in the morning, the only small commotion from the few gathered around the beer pong table. The loudest noise pulling attention came from Bakugou and Mina’s shit talking over an already aggressive competition.

“Can I have the camera?” Kirishima gestured to Sero, figuring now would be a good time to pick up the slack. Sero shrugged and, trusting his abilities too much, tossed it over. Kirishima barely caught it, shooting him a glare before heading over to Mina and Bakugou’s game.

“You cool with being in the vlog?” Kirishima asked, already aiming the lens at his face, recording.

Bakugou blinked, then smirked cockily. “As long as you’re recording me kicking Pinky ass.”

“It’s going to be hard to film something that doesn’t happen Blasty.” Mina emphasized the nickname while sinking a perfect shot. “Kirishima, you have to film the entire game. These aren’t the Bakugou vlogs.”

Kirishima turned bright red as he whipped the camera over to where Mina was prepping for her second shot, dunking her ball into a water cup on the side.

“Maybe you’d get more views if they were,” Bakugou grinned, catching her second ping pong ball as it bounced off the foldout table out of bounds.

“If anything we’d lose half our audience.” Mina said, catching the first of Bakugou’s balls as it went over all the cups. “I’m sure Kirishima would have a great time editing all the footage though.”

Kirishima didn’t bother arguing that point as he filmed Bakugou furrowing his brow in concentration, sticking out his tongue slightly while he lined up his toss. He’d definitely enjoy watching this back more than what’s socially acceptable. He zoomed in extremely close so that it was just Bakugou’s eyes and he chuckled to himself at how ridiculous it looked. Until they were both glaring at him.

“The fuck are you laughing at?”

Kirishima quickly shoved the camera down to his lap. “Uh… nothing.”

He fiddled with the settings so that it was back to normal and chewed the inside of his cheek to keep himself from breaking into a smile. Bakugou continued to eye him suspiciously, but winning must have taken priority because luckily he dropped the situation quickly.

Much to Bakugou’s disappointment, the game didn’t last much longer before Mina beat him by several cups. Kirishima tried to remind him with how few parties Bakugou had been to it was actually impressive that he almost won, but it didn’t stop Bakugou from pouting for the next half hour. Mina, however, rode that victory high for as long as possible, annihilating any boy who dared to challenge her there after. Kirishima stuck around for a few games to get a little more footage, promising Mina that through the power of editing he’d make her look like even more of a badass, before deciding she’d be there longer than his attention span could handle.

On the opposite end of the porch Kaminari, Sero, and Camie were slouched against the wall listening as Kaminari went on another one of his rants. He was still sipping from the liquor bottle and Kirishima raised an eyebrow at Sero since he was a little past a point that he should be drinking, but Sero shrugged and mouthed ‘water’. Letting out a sigh Kirishima was content that he could relax knowing everything was okay.

He glanced over the banister to Bakugou who had taken purchase in the center of the front lawn, lying on his back with arms behind his head as he stared at the sky. Kirishima took a moment to admire the scene, Bakugou’s relaxed beauty amidst the chaotic beer can filled yard. A beautiful mess.

He jogged down the concrete porch steps to reach Bakugou, giving him a lopsided grin when he hovered over him in the middle of the yellowing grass. Bakugou’s gaze flickered to Kirishima and a soft smile dusted his lips.

“Have you recovered from your loss?” Kirishima said, teasing.

Bakugou's smile turned into a disgruntled frown. “Fuck off. If I would’ve practiced I could’ve kicked her ass.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes, but hummed in agreeance. He kicked a crushed beer can that laid beside Bakugou and ungracefully plopped down, cradling his knees he followed Bakugou’s eyes upward. He noticed that from here, further from the city, he could see more stars dotting the sea of obsidian than from his Los Angeles home.

“This is like when we first met.” Bakugou said, eyes trained on the sky. “Outside of a party or whatever.”

Kirishima tilted his head in surprise, but as the off-key singing to Mr. Brightside reached his ears he couldn’t help but smirk. “Yeah, I’d say it’s pretty identical.”

“Fuck off.” Bakugou snorted. “You know what I mean.”

He did. Kirishima closed his eyes and allowed himself to roll onto his back. His heart jumped to his throat when he felt a small brush against his hand that lay relaxed in the grass between them. He looked over and saw Bakugou had loosely placed his fingers beside his, slinging his other arm over his face to hide any expression from Kirishima’s curious look. He bit his lip and with all the courage he could, completed the action by loosely interlocking their fingers, facing the stars before he could judge Bakugou’s reaction.

But instead of pulling away, like Kirishima feared, he adjusted himself closer.

Kirishima couldn’t believe how far he’d come since that first night. From thinking Bakugou would throw him off a balcony out of pure hatred to being… whatever they were right now. If he tried to go back in time to describe this to past Kirishima, that version of him would punch him for lying before believing a word he said.

“Hey Bakugou…” Kirishima began, waiting for Bakugou’s quiet grunt of acknowledgement. “I’m really glad that I met you.”

Kirishima bit the inside of his cheek to calm the sporadic rhythm of his heart. He felt a tug on his arm and Kirishima rolled his head to the side to be met with Bakugou’s inquisitive stare, flickering across Kirishima’s face as if searching. Kirishima started looking around awkwardly.

Bakugou took a deep breath, “Kirishima, I’m not--”

“Oh lover boys!” Mina shouted from the porch. “There’s only a few more songs, so if you’re going to do anything you gotta do it now Ei.”

Kirishima pushed himself onto his elbows to shoot Mina a thumbs up before turning back to Bakugou. “What were you saying?”

Bakugou just shook his head as he rolled up onto his feet. “What’s she talking about?”

“The big finale.” He said, pushing himself up and making his way back to the house. Bakugou raised an eyebrow with uncertainty, but followed Kirishima back into the party through the riled students that swayed and shouted overenthusiastically, giving their all for the last few moments they had of their night of freedom.. Kirishima felt Bakugou grip the back of his t-shirt to not lose him in the tight knit crowd and felt his chest flutter.

But now wasn’t the time.

When Kirishima finally reached his destination at the furthest point in the living room where a young man was manning a cheap DJ station he began climbing over the makeshift blockade. Bakugou’s eyes widened and he gripped the back of his shirt tighter.

“The fuck are you doing?”

“The best part?” Kirishima smirked. He turned to the DJ who was now slack jaw and grinned.

“RedRiot?”

“Can you do me a favor?” The DJ nodded enthusiastically. Kirishima looked back to Bakugou who stared up at him stunned. He reached out to him and Bakugou looked around at everyone crowding the DJ, specifically Camie who Kirishima noticed was giving him a teasing grin, before a determined look set onto his face and he firmly gripped Kirishima’s hand.

Kirishima confirmed the DJ had connected his phone before grabbing the microphone and stepping dangerously onto an unsteady speaker. Bakugou stood to the side confused as the music died out, people first whining until they noticed Kirishima smacking the top of the microphone checking it’s sound. That’s when the squeals and cheers began.

“Hey guys,” he said as a round of cheers erupted throughout the crowd. He waved them down before continuing. “I’m filming something quick if that’s okay. I just need you to sing along if you know the words, please.”

As he hopped back off the speaker slowly the music began to fade back in: I’m Good by The Mowgli’s. Kirishima’s signature outro for the majority of his vlogs. He laughed as the entire house party shouted the song. Some had their arms slung around each other’s shoulders and swayed back and forth while others jumped up and down wildly as if it was some sort of mosh pit. It held him in disbelief that he could stand up here with people knowing who he was. Some even shout his name.

He began laughing as he put down his camera, his smile wide enough that his cheeks were beginning to ache. He turned to ask Bakugou what he thought of it all, but was stopped short. Bakugou looked mesmerizing, scarlet eyes enamored as they watched Kirishima and lips in a slight upturn. It took Kirishima’s breath away.

“What is it?”

“You.” He said breathlessly.

Kirishima gave a lopsided grin. “What’s that supposed to--”

Bakugou gripped the collar of his shirt and effectively cut him off by pulling him forward for an admittedly unpleasant impact. The second Kirishima realized the situation, a beat of his heart passing before his brain restarted, he relaxed against Bakugou, repositioning for a less painful approach. The muffled cheers barely registered behind the pounding against his ribcage and the speakers that shook the stand beneath their feet as Bakugou’s lips moved steadily against his, the taste of cheap beer lingering on his tongue. He placed a blind hand atop a pounding speaker to steady himself when Bakugu pulled back with hooded eyes and heavy breaths.

Kirishima struggled to steady his own breathing pattern and keep his blush at bay when Bakugou sent him a cocky ass smirk. Kirishima would have called him out if his brain wasn’t still lagging.

“Fuck yeah!” A deep voice shouted from the crowd as a few people continued to squeal at their public display. Bakugou seemed to slowly remember where they were and flipped off their audience.

“You can’t flip them off,” Kirishima laughed, pulling Bakugou’s hand down.

“They’re being nosy.” Bakugou glared at the swarm of people as the DJ switched to the last song of the night.

“We kissed in front of them on a platform,” Kirishima raised a brow, gesturing to their location. “It’s not exactly discreet.”

“Well, I don’t cheer for every fucker I see making out against a wall.”

Kirishima chuckled low. “I think the party would’ve been a lot more entertaining if you had though.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Probably,” Kirishima nudged him and without thought said, “but I’m your idiot.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened at the statement and Kirishima quickly panicked. “I mean, I’m not like your your idiot. I’m just like an idiot who is also with you, but not like with you with you because I’m totally emotionally stable enough to just be--”

Bakugou pinched both of Kirishima’s cheeks and narrowed his eyes in annoyance. “I want you to be my idiot.”

“Yeah?” Kirishima asked. Bakugou nodded and gave Kirishima’s head a little shake. “Does that mean you’re my idiot too?”

Bakugou pinched Kirishima’s cheeks roughly before releasing him. “Absolutely not.”

Kirishima rubbed at his face and whined. “Wha--why not?”

“Because I’m not an idiot,” Bakugou scoffed as he began climbing off the DJ stand they were still chatting on. Kirishima pushed his lips out in a pout, accepting Bakugou’s hand to help him down. “So, I’ll be your boyfriend.”

Kirishima was grateful Bakugou was there because he would’ve buffed it if not for the arm steadying him. His jaw dropped and he stared wide-eyed at Bakugou’s bright red face. Had he really just said what Kirishima thought he just said?

“Like… the dating kind?”

“Yes? What other...” Bakugou scrunched up his face and turned away. “Look, if you don’t want to then just say so because I--”

Kirishima cradled either side of Bakugou’s face. “I want to,” He said, pressing their foreheads together. “I really want to.”

Bakugou nodded against him slowly before Kirishima captured his lips for another kiss. He felt Bakugou smile against his mouth and it took every ounce of strength he had not to keel over from happiness. Call him a hopeless romantic but… this felt right.

Bakugou felt right.

#kiribaku #youtube au #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #kiribaku fanfic #bnha #bnha fanfic #boku no hero academia

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lemonietrinket · 4 years

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Save A Nation ||| Johnny x Reader

Summary: Johnny knows how hot he is. Oh he knows. He also knows that a certain someone has had a crush on him for a very long time. And he also knows you’re not confident enough to address it. But this is the catch for you, you see: because he is. Genre: Fluff? I don’t think it is... But it ain’t exactly hardcore smut, is it? If ya’ll wanna kiss John Seo then this is a fic that caters to that very purpose, kk Warning(s): Johnny. Word Count: 2965 how is this longer than the min&joo one wHaT Theme Songs: Flower Shower - Hyuna; Who Is In Your Heart Now? - Studio Killers AN: December 13 prompt, mistletoe! (credit: @songi-writes) Also, can we have some more appreciation for Johnny’s lips pls. They are the definition of beautiful! And also my man Johnny in general like come on guys he’s out here serving looks, personality and comedy on a diamond encrusted plate my dudes, give him some attention

Set in a university.

~~~

The party was loud. A butchered club-remixed christmas song hammered the speakers at the hands of a completely sozzled DJ, as the throng of people shimmering like hyper-flammable lycra ebbed and flowed with the beat like shoals of plastic fish beneath the cheap strobe lights. House parties were never that good, if you were honest. But this one. This one was spectacular.

You wished you could say the reason for you believing so was actually good, or anywhere close to rational. But alas, it was not, since your reason was literally a boy.

Not just any old boy, though, in your defence. No no, it was the one of those god-crafted creatures whose blessed features had been cropping up in your line of sight ever since the beginning of the year. At the cafe, at the mall... Even in your favourite hidden-gem vintage charity shop.

One of those boys.

It was if Fate wanted you to do something.

But you never would. Never.

Because you knew who this boy was.

Johnny Seo.

God of charisma, king of basketball, comedy gold. He was on the front of the university monthly magazine for nearly every edition, he had his own radio show, he got extra-special discounts at several bars because he was just so...

He was in the choir for god’s sake, and he was the one person no one made fun of for it.

There was no way you would risk ousting yourself out for ridicule like that. You may not be the smartest in the world, but you knew that asking him out for him to inevitably turn you down would make you the laughing stock for the rest of the year. And that was the best case scenario.

It wasn’t like you thought poorly of yourself, not at all. You were intelligent, and talented, and certainly attractive enough. It’s just you knew you lacked something. The thing that separated him from everyone else. The thing that made him destined for the stars whilst everyone else settled for the moon. The thing that no doubt made you feel head over heels for him when you’d barely even spoken to him.

It wasn’t your way to do things at all, but here you were. Caught in a daze, admiring him as he spoke to someone else.

You were so out of it, you hadn’t even noticed that that someone was actually your best friend. She didn��t see what you saw in the guy, and merely laughed at you when she caught you like this, rolling her eyes every time you stuttered an flimsy explanation at her.

This time you were purely snagged on his lips alone.

Soft, gentle, the gateway to all the secrets that he knew, and all the words he could inspire the world with. Hand-drawn by an artist and delicately positioned on his features, their ulterior motive to make those lips hurt you as you dreamt of running the pads of your fingertips across them, touching them with your own, seeking a sanctuary and your own hell in them.

God, it wasn’t fair.

Whoever got to kiss them even only once must have saved a nation in a past life.

Caught in your daydream, you were hardly subtle.

You never were.

Johnny couldn’t help but glance over at you whenever he had the opportunity, and it didn’t change in this case either. Even if your best friend was watching. Maybe if she noticed she’d urge you to do something after all.

He cracked a smile, completely unrelated to what your best friend was saying, at the thought of how shy you were. You just didn’t want to cause anyone trouble, whether it be him, your best friend, or yourself. You wouldn’t want to even be a trouble to the people you no doubt had invented in your own head, purely as a reason to stop you from saying anything to him. No, you wouldn’t even want them to exert themselves in mocking you. You were wiser than he ever was though because he just let himself flow into things head first and then talked his way out of the consequences, always relatively unscathed.

But the fact remained, you would never do something. So it was on him.

He hadn’t expected to see you around in the same places as much as he did. You’d had a lot more in common than he’d expected when he first saw you. He thought you’d have been into much... less ordinary things.

He didn’t know really, maybe the sunlight had dazzled him then, but that day in the summer when he first saw you, your laugh rivalling the entire world’s music, your eyes rivalling the galaxies above, your lips...

He was entranced by them then, just as he was now, transfixed as they gradually parted to mouth the thoughts charging through your head. He wondered what you were thinking, whether it was about him.

Oh who was he kidding, he knew it was about him. You were all he could think about too, after all.

Suddenly, something knocked his arm.

He snapped his eyes away, lips curving into a charming smile familiar to you—the one that always appeared when he’d been caught doing doing he shouldn’t be doing.

Sucked to be him though, because your best friend was extremely gay and hella proud of it, and so wasn’t having any of his antics.

“Hey,” she shouted over the music, “she’s been pining after you for months on end, Mr I’m-Seo-Hot-And-I-Know-It. Put me out of my goddamn misery and kiss her already?”

He blinked at her, startled but relieved nonetheless.

He had the perfect idea, and this was the cue to enact it.

You barely registered the fact he’d walked over before it was too late. Johnny’s drop-dead gorgeous face and unwavering stare was focused solely on you within a single blink.

Your daze shattered as you were thrust into reality.

He then said something.

You panicked.

You hadn’t heard what he said. The music had stopped too at that very moment, parting the sound for you to hear his velvet smooth voice as well as Fate had garnered it so, and your dumb ass hadn’t even been listening.

Too focused on the pools of onyx that made up his eyes.

You cursed to yourself in your head. Pull. Yourself. Together.

All he’d said was hi.

“Hey, I was talking to your friend. She said you were feeling a bit overwhelmed by the party and wanted to leave but since she was being selfish and didn’t want to, you’d been stuck here waiting for her?”

He waited diligently for you to respond. Eventually you nodded dumbly. Realising that was the best he was going to get, with a gentle smile, he continued, “Well, I was heading out, and will happily walk you back, if you’d like?”

That smile wasn’t one you recognised.

You scolded yourself for feeling a spike of excitement at that thought. You haven’t seen him that much, you haven’t seen every smile that those lips of his have curved beautifully into.

You were just too eager to jump on the ‘he sees me differently from everyone else’ train. Which was obviously a poor reaction, in your opinion.

Oh, how little you knew.

You managed a word this time, however. Congrats. “Please.”

He flashed you his characteristic, bright, welcoming, dashing grin, offering out his hand for you to take.

He just wanted to help you out of your chair. A gentleman. The way your breath hitched at that much.

It wasn’t wise to take his hand though. Your hand would be clammy from the heat of the party, and your nerves from just being close to him. And he may suspect something.

Ha.

But it would be too smart to listen to your own mental advice, regardless. You took his hand instinctively, and got to your feet a little bit too fast for your own liking.

And then he asked you another question. This time you didn’t hear because it was too loud. And you had no hope in hell in guessing what it was, because you’d ushered your eyes away from his own. His eyes were too good to look into for long periods of time. Unhealthy for you. They made you blush too hard.

Wait was he doing the long stare deliberately?

He presumed your coat, if you had one and he sure hoped you did because it was cold out and he didn’t want you sick, was by the door.

Leading you through the crowds, flashing that smile at a couple of people to get them to move, with his hand very very lightly brushing your shoulder to make sure you didn’t get lost in the crowds. It was polite, but also protective.

Maybe your past life had been pretty good. But had you saved a nation?

Probably not?

Reaching the porch, and seeing the mounds of coats, he sweat-dropped. Even if yours was in there, it would take forever to find it.

“Hey, is your coat, like, not black?” he enquired, closing the door to block most of the sound from the other rooms.

You hesitated, forcing the cogs in your head to turn. Suddenly you hit a spark and remembered. “I didn’t have a coat with me. I forgot.”

He looked concerned to say the least, and you were confused as to why. Before you could think about it for even a second, he passed you a chic trench coat. It matched his outfit.

Oh no.

“I... no I—”

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine,” he insisted, catching onto your pause. He held it out, nodding his head and indicating for you to turn around.

You obliged, and let him slip the coat over your arms, and up to your neck. Tying it up at the front by one button, it was huge on you. He’d forgotten how much taller he was than you. Oh well, you looked absolutely adorable.

He could have kissed you right then. But he had to stick to the plan.

“Is it left or right to your apartment?” he asked, opening the front door to the cold outside.

Walking along the ice cold streets, at an awfully slow pace, you almost felt your heart return slightly back to normal. You felt bad for making him take such short steps, it being icy and yourself in nice but not exactly practical shoes for the weather. His legs were so long, you wondered what it was like to be tall.

Actually, his legs were astoundingly proportioned, with those thighs—

“I know a shortcut, actually,” he announced, slightly out of the blue, especially for him.

Truth be told, he’d been trying to think of a way to get you to go with him to the tree. It wasn’t en-route at all, but he couldn’t think of a better excuse.

That being said, he couldn’t deny the impact taking in the sight of you had on his thought process. It was a lot to handle, that was for sure.

“Oh, ok, sure.”

Turning the two of you into the park through the gate a few steps away, you quickly realised that there was no shortcut this way, having walked this way a couple of times before. But there was a real brightness in his eyes, and it wasn’t just the streetlights. He seemed excited.

So you followed beside him, keeping up with his light conversation as best you could. Though you still couldn’t quite render what was going on.

He’d asked you about your favourite bands, your favourite animals, what you liked to do on an evening. He moved onto deeper things, your opinions on the latest news events, whether you believed in ghosts, what you thought of conspiracy theories.

And though you were nervous, it didn’t feel wrong. Or worrying. Or unnatural. Eventually words began to flow from your lips like they normally did. Perhaps you were even more honest than you usually were. Johnny didn’t judge. In fact he just told more embarrassing stories about himself. Like where he’d got some of his scars from, some of the people he’d met, and what being in the choir was truly like.

“Honestly, I don’t know what those jocks are making fun of choir kids for,” he explained, “choir-ing is hard. Not only does everyone gossip over one another, but the teachers berate you too. There’s no loyalty in the choir, it’s a basket of snakes, all armed with not one knife, but two! Only the most wary and sly stay alive.”

“So how do you keep yourself alive then?” you asked, genuinely unable to see this man as ‘sly’.

“Good question, my secret, you see, is—” He glanced up, away from your face, to spot that he’d reached his destination. “—going to have to wait.”

Before you could protest, he utilised those long legs of his and took off quite far ahead, up the mound central to the park, crowned by a giant bare maple tree. You followed him, head and feet working separately as your eyes stared at him, where he waited.

You could still remember the folklore of the maple tree, told to you by your best friend when you met them under it. Fate made it so that if you kissed beneath it, your love would remain eternal. It was a bunch of crap really, because so many couples had kissed beneath its branches and broke up within weeks. You and your best friend had laughed about it numerous times before, hearing their sickly vows from where you sat in the summer a tree away, before making bets on how long they would—

Oh.

Your feet brought you to a standstill right in front of the man you’d admired from afar for so long.

“I’m sorry for dragging you a little further from your dorm,” he said, smiling sweetly and apologetically, “but I had an idea and I couldn’t let it go to waste.”

You noticed his hand, pointing upwards, above both him and you.

Your joints were heavy, out of shock and also the sheer will of wanting this to not be a dream.

There, above your head, was a sprig of mistletoe, tied to the branch and fluttering in the wind.

“I know we haven’t spoken much, but I’ve been so intrigued by you for the past year, and I know you have too,” he began, his words instantly bringing your focus back to him.

You pushed yourself to meet his stare. As much as it made you feel vulnerable, it felt so good to finally take them in at close proximity, to have them to yourself, to have him to yourself alone.

To you surprise, it was Johnny that looked away first, gaze looping to the grass, mottled with snow, as he continued, “And since I didn’t know how to move things forwards exactly, I decided that this would... well,” he looked back up, eyes glimmering with a smile at the corners, even if his lips did not follow, “it would at least be memorable, all cinematic, even if it didn’t...”

You stepped forwards, cold-blemished hands slowly edging up to his face.

Cupping his cheek, you flinched at how icy the skin you found there was, only to replace your hand with much more certainty after. His hand came up to hold yours, to press your palm into his skin.

It felt slightly rough, with some craft he no doubt could teach you. They were warm, strong, welcoming. You wanted to just, hold them. Between your fingers, against your cheek, to your heart.

You couldn’t manage to stare into his eyes any longer, the passion in his stare was too much to handle, and so you reverted to taking in the lines and shadows of his face. You didn’t expect anyone this beautiful to even exist on earth and yet here a person was, with his soft skin and sculpted jaw and those inviting lips...

Shifting your hand out from his, you pulled it away, and instead to where you could feel his breath, cool and clouded upon your skin.

You pressed a single finger against the cushion of his bottom lip, running the pad across the etches, just as you’d dreamt of doing for so long.

His hand came to meet yours once again, but instead held it still at his lips. And there he pressed a kiss into your fingerprint.

“May I kiss you properly?”

You almost choked on your own heart at his words.

“Yes,” you whispered, standing as high as you could reach, your arms snaking around his neck to mirror his own actions, his hands dropping and holding you close by the waist.

Your lips met and it was nothing like you’d imagined. It was so much more than that.

They were so much warmer, so much more sweet and delectable than you could have ever guessed. Ambrosian. You were in heaven by his touches alone, secure and protected from the cold and cruelty of the rest of the world, even if only for a moment. How could you have lived without this the whole of your life?

His hair was smooth to touch, as you wrung some tresses between your fingers, soaking up as much of him as you could.

He didn’t pull away until you did. And you only did so because you had lost all of your air.

You breathed heavily as you shivered in his arms, his forehead pressed against yours.

“Kiss me again?” you pleaded, voice barely anything more than the breeze.

He opened his eyes, fingers reaching up and stroking your hair away from your face. “Gladly.”

How many nations had you saved?

~~~

AN: Edited, and I honestly don’t understand how I expected you guys to understand some parts lol It’s legible now tho!

With some extra tidbits too yeee ....!

Hope you enjoyed!

Masterlist

Edited: 16th December 2019

Re-edited: part way through 3rd February 2020

#johnny #johnny x reader #johnny reader #johnny reader insert #johnny seo #johnny nct #johnny oneshot #johnny christmas #nct johnny christmas #johnny seo oneshot #johnny suh #nct christmas #nct mistletoe #johnny x reader oneshot #idk what to call this

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goodguydotmp3 · 3 years

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hi i came across ur answer about harry/his music, there was this -- "I also really hate that one song that Zayn did with Usher and Chris Brown, because you have these awful men completely misunderstanding what it means to write a love song, and then you have Zayn at the very end all like “actually I really am in love tho…” I thought the same bcz his verse is so different & feels like it doesn't fit can you explain more about it if you'd like plz? thanks :)

SO I had to re-listen to the song for this ask and it was just as uncomfortable as the first time <3

Alright lets break this down.

I. General Feel

Okay so this song is. It’s just not a good song let me put it like that. It’s an pop R&B song, obviously meant to be at the very least sexy. You have three men that are known for their sexy pop/R&B lyics and/or songs, and somehow two of them forgot how to be sexy? make it make sense. Where is the romance? the ambiance? the vulnerability? No not like that Chris Brown.

And yes there were three other writers, but that just means there is even less of an excuse for this nonsense. It literally makes my skin crawl.

II. Lyrics

Girl bye.

a. Usher, what is you doing? He starts off the verse with

Come and ride on me like the waves I flip the pages 'cause I wrote the book On the way how to sex you up, sex you up We can do it like I'm on the stage, we'll have an audience Baby, I'll show you the way that I sex you up

When I tell you I could fucking scream. Who let Usher Raymond do this? I want names, phone numbers, and addresses.

This sounds juvenile. If someone rapped this over a Nitti Beat back in 2012 I would have thought this was fire. That’s how fucking childish this is. This can’t be the same man you used to sing stuff like “if you didn’t know you’re the only thing that’s on my mind, cause the way i’m starin at you makes me wanna give it to you all night” or “I’ve been waiting all day to wrap my hands around your waist and kiss your face” or “I’ll get you hot I know you oh so well”. now are those groundbreaking lyrics? No. But they sound leagues better then whatever the hell he was doing here, Especially in context, especially when he sung them but I wanna talk about that later.

Next point of contention is:

Or I can lick you up and down 'til you say You love how I eat on that pussy You just might go put a tat' on that pussy That says Usher, Usher There's no other, other (Yeah!) Damn girl, yeah, you got that juicy Love when I make you cum, I make it gushy One without the other I'm the champion lover, lover Fuck you to sleep, wake you up again (Oh) I go so deep, beat it up again (Oh) Girl, come and sit on my tongue again 'Cause I love to taste you, yeah

Would someone be so kind as to let me know when 2010 lil Jon possesed Usher? Or maybe it was 2008 Lil Wayne? 2012 Pitbull? Either way, 2016 Usher just aint got it like. Truly if this was being rapped in a club with the bass all the way up and the melody loud enough that you couldn’t hear it, I would be like “ okay maybe horny people wanna shake they ass” but this is supposed to be sexy? Who is this seducing????? Are they okay? Can they name the current President? How many fingers am I holding up?

Last of his verse is what really gets me heated like

I can tell you been eating your pineapples (Mmm) Girl, your pussy taste like pineapples (Oh) Girl, when I hit your G, you feel like you gon' pee Baby, cum for me

First off, pussy taste like pussy you fucking coward. Second, stop god modding you clearly don’t know all that if you still think pussy taste like pineapples. And this is that immaturity coming back into play I feel like, who is this song for? Not adults. Not like this. I feel like I can’t over emphasize that this man had been putting out original music for 26 years. 26! Not only are your fans too old for this nonsense, but you should be a master song writer! I know this song came out in 2016 but that’s still over 20 years of experience.

b. Chris Brown

Huh, now where you been? It's been a year Baby, I ain't seen you, you know I miss you (Oh, woah) Baby, let me love you back to sleep once more And I know we don't speak no more (Oh) But I just wanna tell you I'm sorry (Hey!) For fucking 'round with Keisha and MaKayla (Huh) For all the Georgia peaches in Decatur For all these bitches in the elevator I just want you to love me (Yeah, yeah) Yeah, baby, don't test me (Huh), you know I'll do it You want me to say your name, girl? Okay, Karrueche

I Just

What...praytell...is sexy or romantic about...anything said there.

See this is what I was talking about in my other post, He completely misunderstands what it means to white a love song , but more than that, to be vulnerable. Saying you’re a cheating whore and begging for forgiveness in this manner is not actually apologizing for your actions, it’s just airing your dirty laundry.

If he wants to do that then fine I guess?? But I feel like he wasn't. Like, the idea totally reminds me of Charlene, Wherein Anthony Hamilton name drops his lover and begs her to come back to him. The thing about Hamilton’s song is that he doesn’t sound like a manipulative ass for one. Hamilton makes it clear there were several places he knows he fell short in the relationship, and in the end, he doesn’t make it out to be a callout post, but he does let her know that he intends to wait for her should she come back, and then promises to change his behavior. This is not that at all. When Beyoncé and Alicia Keys said Say you love me and Put it in a Love Song, This is not what they meant.

ALSO DON’T REFER TO WOMEN AS BITCHES

c. Zayn

Baby, just stay comfortable, I want you as you are Baby, just lay there naked waiting for me Let's not get emotional, let's be who we are Can we do that? Can we do that? Can we? Know it's been a long day, it's 'bout to be a long night So keep your eyes closed 'til I roll through So, baby, when you're feeling like a woman in the sheets Somebody splitting your knees, don't worry that's me I'm over here putting work in Baby, you ain't gotta tell me what you want

Am I Floored? No. Is this his best work? Also no. Is it a helluva lot better than whatever the fuck Usher and Chris B thought they were doing here? Hell yes. The vulnerability! The pleading! The fucked up headspace! This verse has it all!

III. The way the song is sung

terribly Let me start there. Wtf was usher trying to do here. The lyrics were chringy, and so was the delivery. It felt choppy as hell. Like who is fucking to this? Asking for a friend. WHo is aroused by an usher vulva tat

we need to have words.

second Chis Brown sounds like a whiney piss baby I really hope no one actually paid for that song thinking they were getting a sexy R&B hit and got that.

Zayn sounds fine on this song, like the tone is overall bittersweet, but it matches the lyrics.

okay the last thing I want to talk about is the chorus. after hearing the verses It really doesn’t match. It’s a really basic premise I feel and Usher and CB felt like they were on another song in between the chorus. Like In Sex Room, Ludacris talks a really big game, and the chorus is really simple, but It’s literally all about what he plans to do in said “Sex room”, Usher like someone told him he was gonna be singing a sex song and then went back and put a line that tied to the song at the last minute if that makes sense?

and then CB....okay.

The last thing I wanna say about Chris Brown is I actually listened to the original song, thinking maybe the original was also trash. No actually? It’s not the best, not even by Chris B standards but its not bad like?? Who let him but out this remix monstrosity?

Anyway, I actually have a Sexy R&B playlist if you’re looking for something...better. Don’t get me wrong, they aren’t all romantic, but they’re damn sure sexy, and way better that wtf this song has going on

#chris brown #usher #Zaynie to the max #I got carried away lol #lemme know if you have questions :>

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noramoya · 4 years

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#1 F.A.Q.:

“Given how much has been done in the first decade following Michael’s tragic and untimely passing, it should not be a surprise that there is a natural slowing and spreading out of major releases as the Estate focuses more selectively on projects to enhance Michael’s legacy long term. While we appreciate that the fans want more releases, it is important to keep in mind all that has been created and released in this relatively short time. This includes a number of licensing deals such as the limited-edition collaborations with clothing companies like Supreme and Off White, the launch of the Michael Jackson slot machines, as well as all of the larger scale releases including:

2009: The documentary film This Is It, which remains the highest grossing music documentary/concert film in history. Also released was a compilation album with the same title that includes the songs featured in the film and a few bonus tracks including Michael’s unreleased track, “This Is It”. The album has sold in excess of five million copies worldwide making it the largest posthumous release in history.

2010: The Ubisoft game, Michael Jackson: The Experience. While there were many successful versions of the Ubisoft Just Dance videogame, this was the first (and only) time they released a dance video game dedicated entirely to a single artist! It was released on every major platform and went on to become one of the biggest selling video games on the Wii platform. There were also two releases under the Estate’s agreement with Sony Music – Michael, which was the first release of previously unfinished tracks that were worked on by various producers who had worked with Michael. Notwithstanding the controversy about three of the tracks on that album, it went to #1 around the world and sold more than five million copies. Visions, the complete collection of all of Michael’s short films, was also released.

2011: There have been two completely unique live stage shows created by the Estate in partnership with Cirque du Soleil. The first of these shows, Michael Jackson THE IMMORTAL World Tour, travelled to arenas around the world for nearly 3 years. Along the way it grossed approximately $400 million at the box office making it one of the biggest tours of all time! And it won the Billboard Magazine Creative Content Award. There was also another release under the partnership with Sony Music – an album, Immortal, featuring remixes of Michael’s recordings created by Kevin Antunes, the musical director for both Cirque du Soleil shows, based on the songs used in the IMMORTAL show.

2012: There was a special Bad album re-release to commemorate the 25th anniversary of the Bad album which included remastered versions of the tracks from the original album on one disc together with a second disc that included rarities as well as 6 previously unreleased demos by Michael from the recording sessions for the Bad album. It is worth noting that none of these demos would have been released as ‘new’ recordings, however they worked in the context of ‘bonus’ material for this anniversary release. Also included in the larger box set was a Live at Wembley CD – the first ever Michael Jackson live CD from any of Michael’s solo tours to be released. •Also, as part of the Bad 25th anniversary celebration, the Wembley concert from the Bad Tour was released on DVD. Michael’s performance at this concert is certainly the best live concert performance by any artist ever. As explained at the time, had we been able to locate any original source films/tapes for this performance we would have used those to create a fully edited concert. Unfortunately, that was not the case and we released the only thing we found – Michael’s own viewing copy of the concert. We continue to search for the original elements in the hopes that one day we will be able to share this concert in the best possible format. Just like the fans, we would be ecstatic if this happens. •There was the first of two long-form documentaries produced by the Estate with director Spike Lee at the helm, BAD25, which was premiered at the Venice Film Festival and broadcast on ABC in the United States and broadcast on television throughout the rest of the world. The longer “director’s cut” of the documentary was also released on DVD/Blu-Ray. •There was also a deal with Pepsi to promote the 25th anniversary of Bad and the Bad World Tour, for which Pepsi was the sponsor. As part of the deal with Pepsi, special limited-edition cans were released around the world.

2013: The second live show created by the Estate and Cirque du Soleil, Michael Jackson ONE, which is a more intimate show than the touring show, premiered at its permanent home at Mandalay Bay Resort & Hotel in Las Vegas. While we are aware that it is not possible for everyone to travel to Las Vegas to see this show, we are proud to say it continues to be one of the most successful Las Vegas shows. In fact, it is one of the best shows in the world and is a fitting tribute to Michael Jackson. While it was forced to shutter along with all other live events in early 2020 as a result of the COVID 19 pandemic, it will reopen when it is safe and will continue to entertain audiences for years to come.

2014: The second album featuring previously unreleased recordings, Xscape, was executive produced with L.A. Reid who brought in current producers including Timbaland, and the album also included the first posthumously released duet by Michael. Justin Timberlake joined Michael on a version of “Love Never Felt So Good”. This album went to #1 all over the world and another song from this album, “Slave To The Rhythm”, was featured in the hologram performance on the Billboard Music Awards, which gave the show its biggest ratings in decades.

2016: Based on the success of BAD25, the Estate and Spike Lee partnered on a second documentary, Michael Jackson’s Journey From Motown to OFF THE WALL, which looked back at Michael’s early career path and culminates with an in-depth look at Off The Wall. This critically acclaimed documentary premiered at the Sundance Film Festival and was broadcast on Showtime in the United States and by other broadcasters around the world. It was also released on Blu-Ray/DVD.

2017: To celebrate the connection between Michael Jackson and Halloween, there was the premiere of the original animated television special, Michael Jackson’s Halloween, which had the best ratings of the night outside of the World Series game. There were also special events in a half dozen select cities around the world that included the screening of the full length version of Ghosts, Michael’s epic short film with Stan Winston, and a special screening of Thriller 3D, which actually had its premiere at a return trip to the Venice Film Festival.. And there was a release of a Halloween themed compilation album/playlist, Scream. There was also another deal with Pepsi to include Michael in their global campaign, which again included the release of special limited-edition Pepsi cans featuring Michael Jackson imagery.

2018: The critically acclaimed Michael Jackson: On The Wall exhibition premiered at London’s National Portrait Gallery on June 28. Following its record setting run in London, the exhibition travelled to three other major European locations – Paris, France, Bonn, Germany and Espoo, Finland. This innovative and unique experience was appreciated and enjoyed by fans and other members of the general public in each city. •In July, a sample from a previously unreleased Michael Jackson recording, “It Don’t Matter To Me”, was licensed in a new similarly titled Drake recording, “Don’t Matter To Me” to further our intention of introducing Michael to new generations of fans through collaborations with current artists. This duet would become Michael’s 44th top ten Billboard chart hit. •And in August, on what would have been Michael’s 60th birthday, we hosted the Diamond Celebration in Las Vegas. In addition to all of the normal birthday festivities hosted by the Estate at Michael Jackson ONE in Las Vegas every year, there was an extra special party attended by invited guests and fans featuring a DJ set by Mark Ronson and a performance by Usher. •Thriller 3D was premiered in IMAX in a limited 1-week engagement in theaters around the world with the Universal/Amblin release, “The House With A Clock In Its Walls” to rave reviews. We hope to find opportunities to show Thriller 3D again in the future.

2019/2020: The Estate had a number of plans, including those for the 10th anniversary of the release of This Is It, that were all impacted by the release of Leaving Neverland. Regardless of the fact that it is not truthful and will be exposed for its lies, in the short term, its release made other media companies reluctant, at least temporarily, to license any new Michael Jackson programming. This has already started to pass. And, of course, in 2020 we are all dealing with the COVID-19 pandemic that has resulted in a delay for the opening of MJ the Musical on Broadway, as well as impacting other plans we had for this year.

All of this is a way to remind everyone how much the Estate actually has done in the last eleven years, and also to remind everyone that as the result of forces and events out of our control, we had to put a pause on big activities for the last eighteen months. There is a theory – one that Michael subscribed to – that one shouldn’t do too much, give the world a rest, and then surprise them with special projects. That remains the Estate’s intention. Michael continues to be the number one streaming catalog artist in the world and with soar to new heights when the Broadway show opens and we are able to complete and release the other projects in process.”

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