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The bathroom was never quiet. There was always something going on, whether it be Bathsheba and Rebelâs gossip or Barryâs rambling or Sinclaireâs⌠whatever he does. Likewise, the downstairs bathroom lent its effervescent acoustics to the noise of today. A subtle hum, a punchy rhythm echoing off of the tile. No doubt, it was Jean Looâs beatboxing.
It wasnât a particularly unfamiliar sound, that along with his raps. But the room was⌠strangely quiet. Jeanâs beatboxing was the only sound. Which, being honest, didnât bother Johnny at all.
Johnny was taking a break from singing for a few minutes- his pipes could only handle so much after all. So it was just him. And Jean. Alone in the downstairs bathroom with nothing but a beat and the occasional scratch of a pen against paper.
Jean was working on a new song, it appeared. Johnny watched silently as he scribbled down rhymes, reading them over and scratching them out if they didnât fit the rhythm. Running over the bars, just under his breath while he figures them out.
Johnny always admired that about him. His dedication. They had that in common, the melodies and the rhymes and rhythms and the late nights spent on their music. Johnny couldnât count the sleepless nights he spent singing, all the way into the dawn. Bickering with Amir because he couldnât stand the noise. Heâd bicker with Jean Loo, too. Theyâd throw silly insults at each other, petty little things about their voices or their style or their hometowns. But never anything that meant to hurt.
Johnny looked back over at Jean Loo. His page was half-filled, with words and lines in chicken-scratch handwriting. Johnny let his eyes drift up from the page to Jeanâs face.
Gosh, that face.
His eyes, blue as the open ocean, fixed on the paper as he wrote. Eyebrows furrowed in focus. The sparse little freckles that peppered his face, like the stars in the city sky on a particularly clear night. His lips, the tongue just poking out of them. Johnny had noticed that, recently, whenever Jeanâs really focused, he sticks his tongue out. His tongue piercing just barely poked out between plush lips, and Johnny wanted to look away from that mouth. He knew it was weird to stare, especially like this. He wished he could tear his eyes away, but the longer he looked at Jean, the more he felt the butterflies fluttering in his stomach. They threatened to spill out, a flood of words he couldnât dare to say if Jean didnât reciprocate.
âQuoi?â
Johnny is brought out from his thoughts by Jeanâs heavy accent. âWhat are you staring at?â
âOh- um, nothing,â Johnny stammered, a faint blush rising in his cheeks. âJust⌠thinkinâ.â He looked away, staring vaguely at the tiled floor.
âWell, donât gawk at Jean Loo while you do it. He is trying to concentrate, and it would help to not have anyone looking at him like un poisson mort.â
âRight, um⌠sorry âbout that.â
God, why did Johnny have to be so attracted to him? He really ought to be going for someone kinder, but he was talented. He cared about his art, and Johnny knew what it was like to feel that. And there was something about Jean that just⌠drew him in. Slowly but surely. A subtle charm, in little glances and barely noticeable mannerisms that managed to lure Johnny in nonetheless.
He glanced over one last time to Jean Loo, pen in hand, sitting against the wall as he wrote and rewrote. At his tongue poking out of his mouth, at the freckles splattered across his cheeks, and deep into those ocean blue eyes.
Johnny looked back at the wall, and the faint sound of beatboxing filled the room once again.
Authorâs Note: My first Pissing in the Shower fic wahoo!!! Thank you to my wonderful gf for beta reading this :) I hope you enjoyed it!
I got disgracefully bored in English class because I finished my assignment so I wrote an absolute wall of text about Mateo Manta x Jean Loo. I donât even ship them (full text under cut)
Personally I think that a really good ship name for Jean Loo and Mateo Manta (a ship nobody ships) would be Manta Ray. This is because of the âMantaâ part of Mateoâs name, obviously, but it also pulls in the fact that Jean Loo is into marine biology. People who donât dig Jean Loo as much wouldnât know this fact because it appears later in his story, his third interaction to be exact. But, honestly, I think Mateo and Jean Loo would be an interesting ship at the very least. Thereâs obviously the opposites attract factor, with the kindhearted and soft Mateo and the cocky and outspoken Jean Loo, but I think it could make for an interesting dynamic. That kind of dichotomy is the main appeal of the opposites attract trope, after all. But, going back to shipping my toilet and my blanket, I donât really think Jean is much of an animal guy (excluding ocean animals). Honestly, heâs probably the type to not want a dog at first and then get horribly attached to it after a few months. Obviously he likes sea creatures, but I've also seen some headcanons about him adopting a stray cat post-realization (via the fabled Cat Distribution System), and I think thatâs adorable. Heâs definitely more of a cat person, though. Mateo would like all animals, I think. They could go on an aquarium date (as all Jean Loo ships do), and they would both get really invested in learning about the animals. I think thatâs the main thing that would hypothetically bring them together, both platonically and romantically. Theyâd really like seals. Honestly, with this and Johnnyloo and the majority of dynamics presented in Jean Loo x Reader fics, I think we all just unanimously agree that Jean deserves a soft partner. Not just for that juicy opposites attract dynamic, but because they would balance each other out in a way. Except for Rearview, I think. Rearview is just angst central and we love them for that.
Clotted Cream has been secretly seeing his new advisor, Affogato, for a while now. But, after a particularly devious dream, Clottedâs worries and fears about their relationship- and his own love for the other man- resurface.
TW: Kidnapping, Implied Suggestive Content, Drug Usage (Aphrodisiac Incense), Internalized Homophobia, Dubious Consent (dw it was just a dream)
READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
Once Clotted Creamâs blindfold was pulled off, the lights were blinding. An eerie red glow from the candles surrounding the room, black stone walls towering above to surround and trap the Consul. He squinted his olive eyes, adjusting to the scene. It was dim, there was a small table in the room, decorated in a way reminiscent of the shrines heâd seen in the Dark Cacao Kingdom, with a small, purple and white incense holder in the center. Clotted was seated in a chair- he tried to wriggle out, but he had realized that he was tied to it. When he looked up again, there was something blocking the table.
It was the silhouette of a man tending to the incense holder. Clotted had never seen this man before, and he wasnât in the room prior to this, so heâd probably just arrived. This must be my captor, the Consul thought. If he had his cloak, he might have been able to get out of this situation, but in the dark shadows of the room it was nowhere to be found. Clotted turned to look at the door behind him. It was locked shut.
âI presume youâre wondering where you are right now.â
The manâs velvety voice called out to him. Once Clotted looked back, he could get a clear view of his kidnapperâs face- deep coffee brown skin and long fluttery lashes, all framing his opalescent eyes. His hair was a deep brown, flowing into milky white at the ends. A single strand of the manâs soft locks fell playfully over his eye, in a manner that was almost endearing. He was a beauty.
A beauty Clotted was not prepared for, nor that he know existed.
A beauty he had seen no other possess in his life.
âWell?â
Clotted was called back into reality. The man in front of him stood with a smug grin. Taking a breath, Clotted replied, âYou were correct in that regard. I would like to know who you are and why you have brought me here.â
The mysterious man chuckled. âWell, Consul-â he said with teasing emphasis, âI am Affogato Cookie, former advisor to King Dark Cacao Cookie, as you have probably heard.â
âThe man who betrayed the king?â Clotted gasped. He caught wind of this event from an associate staying in the Dark Cacao Kingdom for business. Apparently, Affogato had plotted with the Cookies of Darkness to assassinate the king and take the throne.
Affogato has probably learned since then. With his newfound alliance and the fact that heâs kidnapped the Consul, thereâs a high chance that heâs trying to do it again. Eliminate Clotted and take the Crème Republic for himself. Whoâs to say that Affogato wouldnât kill Clotted right here and now?
He could not let his home fall into such despicable hands.
âAffogato, I know youâre plotting something. Whatever it is, I will not let you have it.â The other man chuckled at that, a deceptively soft sound from even softer looking lips. He took a few steps forward, smirking at Clotted in a manner he could only describe as infuriating. Infuriating in a⌠shamefully attractive way. But Clotted must hold fast. His life is on the line.
âHmmm, I knew youâd say that,â Affogato replied, âIt isnât as bad as you think, I promise. Nor your life or your precious Republic will be put in danger if you fail to comply.â The former advisor circled the Consulâs chair like a hawk circling carrion.
Clotted kept his guard up. He had to. Affogato was known to be a liar, and a good one at that. The Consul was smart enough not to trust a deceptive snake like Affogato. He would not fall prey to his trap.
âWhat do you plan to do with me? Hold me for ransom? Keep me prisoner? I know youâre lying, Affogato,â Clotted spat, trying to stay collected under the bubble of feelings boiling under his surface. It was an odd mix, undeniably rushed as he tried not to get too flustered- anger, fear, and only the slightest bit of attraction and the guilt that came with it. What was it about Affogatoâs eyes, his voice, the way the red candlelight seemed to make him glow? What was Clotted doing, eyeing his captor? Thinking the man who kidnapped him, tied him up, and most likely has some kind of torture lined up for him was- dare he say it- pretty? The irony was torture in of itself. Clotted could barely even mention the fact that he was also a man. Such sodomy would never be accepted from a respectable Consul. It was⌠wrong.
So why did this traitorous manâs silken voice and elegant posture make his heart race? Think, he muttered to himself internally, You need to find a way out of this situation. Find a way to persuade this man to at least undo your binds. If then, you might be able to find a way to escape or find your cloak. Clottedâs head couldnât race any faster. He felt a bead of sweat drip down his forehead, and looked back at those breathtaking eyes.
Affogatoâs slit pupils met the Consulâs. His smug expression never left. The former advisor walked away from Clotted to the table. He picked something up- a thin, long item. It was a little hard to make out in the dimly lit room, but he was soon able to recognize that it was a stick of incense.
âDo you know what this is?â Affogato inquired.
âItâs a stick of incense.â
âPercisely.â Affogato strolled up to Clottedâs chair to give him a teasing pat on the head. The touch made Clotted blush. âI picked it up just a few days ago. This specific blend is said to be a greatâŚaphrodisiac.â The Consul couldnât even find the strength to think as Affogato trailed his finger down his cheek, ending with a lift to his chin and a playful flick as he pulled it away. Sweat was crawling down Clottedâs face, and he could feel his heart beating in his chest like a war drum. It was deafening. Once he came back to reality, Clotted saw Affogato walk to the incense stand and place the stick in it. Only then did it click.
âAffogato⌠do you plan to-â
Affogato turned around sharply. âIt depends. Do you want it?â
Clotted Cream was at a loss for words.
Affogato held eye contact as Clotted stared in shock, eventually settling on explaining his plan himself. âFine, then. If youâre going to keep gawking at me like a dead fish.â
âThe rest of the Cookies of Darkness and I have already taken the Republic. It was a rather easy task, seeing as your people seem to be as weak and groveling as their le- my apologies, former leader.â
Former?
âDark Enchantress has declared that I will be able to oversee its rule in your absence, as its king.â
Clotted gasped again. He pulled on his binds, leaning as close as he could to his kidnapper in desperate distress. Affogatoâs plan had worked⌠and now he was in control over the entire Crème Republic. Who knows what he could do?
His home was in serious danger.
âYouâve taken the Republic? You cannot be se-â
âAh-ah-ah, shhh,â Affogato teased as he put a finger to the Consulâs lips to shush him. âDonât you worry your pretty little head off, theyâre all safe. Theyâll be safer with me than they ever were with you and those old bats from the Council in charge. Or, they will be⌠as long as you accept my deal.â
âA deal?â
âCorrect. Iâll spare your life, and the lives of your precious republic, as long as you promise to satisfy my⌠other desires. Only if you so wish, of course. We could always just hold you prisoner. If not, then I suggest you prepare to say goodbye to everything you hold dear.â
⌠What?
Satisfy his other desires�
Clotted was no maiden. He knew what Affogato meant. But⌠really? Was Clotted dreaming? He must be, in no other world would this opportunity be granted to him. He had a duty to his people, a duty to keep them safe and happy in the Crème Republic, but having to exchange his body for their security? To lay with this beautiful traitor? It felt⌠wrong,
Yet so, so right.
Clotted knew that this could never be. In any other situation, he would have controlled himself. The Consul is not supposed to seek pleasure with reckless abandon, especially from a political rival, a traitor, and definitely not from another man. But his people are on the line. As the Consul, itâs his duty to protect them. Heâll do anything if he must. Itâs only a coincidence that heâs not exactly opposed to this.
But still, Clotted has to keep his head on straight.
He gulped.
âWell, Affogato,â he asked, face flushed, âWhat makes you think Iâd do that?â
âConsul, I know you care about your people. Itâs a given for a leader like you. But I can see that this goes a little⌠deeper.â He pulled out a matchbox. âYou want this. You want this badly.â
Clotted swallowed again. By now, he can feel the warmth of shame in his face. These desires were embarrassing to him, but knowing that someone else knows? Not just that, but the someone else causing these feelings? Itâs nothing short of humiliating.
And still, Clotted is finding a little excitement in it.
âHow would you know?â
âOh, please, itâs written all over your face. Youâre not being particularly subtle about this, darling,â the ex-advisor says, almost like he knows it will send shivers up Clottedâs spine. âYouâre blushing like a schoolgirl and sweating like youâve just ran a mile. I always assumed you would be more innocent in these regards, but this? Itâs almost endearing how little youâre prepared.â Affogato lit the match.
âSo, what will it be, Consul? Do we have a deal?â
Clotted could barely think. Affogatoâs offer called out to him in the background like the snake calling out to Eve. The room started to feel warmer, more humid, as drops of sweat slipped down his neck. He knew he had no other option. He had to do this is he wanted to protect the Republic. He had to.
But the thing was, he also wanted to. He wanted this man, his effeminate looking frame, his elegant poise, his pearl eyes and plush lips. He wanted to hear that voice cry obscenities, wanted to feel his hands cross his bare skin and leave trails of fire in their wake. He wanted this man like he needed air. He needed Affogato.
Itâs not like he had a choice. Might as well bite the apple.
âYes. Itâs a deal.â
Clotted sharply inhaled as Affogatoâs eyes narrowed. His lips curled into a sinister smirk. âGood boy. Let me light the incense,â he called as he brought the match to the stick. The former advisor lit the incense, watching the hazy lavender smoke twist its way around the two men. It settled in Clottedâs lungs almost immediately, blurring his vision as his eyelids drooped. He leaned in, staring at Affogato through half lidded eyes and with his mouth slightly agape. I must look humiliating, he thought, but there was only so much he could do under the effect of the incense and the dashing allure of this man. Affogato leaned in and took him by the chin.
âAre you ready?â
Clotted could only nod.
âShow me how much you truly desire your new King, âConsulâ~â
The touch of Affogatoâs lips was electric.
. Ýâ âš . ÝË . Ý áŻâ
âClotted?â
Clotted Cream blinked slowly. Once his eyes were open just enough to see, he could faintly make out his desk. The inkwell sat next to a half-burned candle, lighting the area enough to see the parchment in front of him and the smudge of ink from the quill in his hand. The Consul felt a hand on his back, soft and warm. He looked back to see Affogato, gazing at him with concern.
âHello, Affogato⌠what are you doing here?â he asked.
âYou fell asleep at your desk again, dearest. You really shouldnât be staying up this late, youâve already lost enough sleep.â
Ah. So that was just a dream. Okay.
âIâll work on that, darling. I just need to finish these last few reports,â Clotted explained. He was supposed to present them on Monday, so he had no choice but to spend the weekend working. Again. When had he ever not?
Clotted had a Republic to look after. Rest and relaxation was a luxury when the future of an entire state- at this point the world- lied in the palm of your hand. The Consul had dedicated his entire life to this purpose, from that fateful day when he was twelve and his entire life shifted around him. There was no going back now, even if it cost him his health.
Affogato loosened his touch on Clottedâs back. âWell you can come to bed when youâre finished there at the least. Itâs been awfully lonely without you,â he teased, resting his arms against the Consulâs shoulder and planting a cheeky kiss on his head. Clotted kissed his cheek in return, and Affogato turned to walk away.
As he walked away, Clotted couldnât help but remember the dream. This same view of Affogatoâs back but lit with red lights and accented by lavender smoke billowing around them. The feeling of helplessness in his bones as Affogato took him by the chin. The sweet, aching pain of knowing what youâre doing is wrong but you have no choice and you love it. Clotted had that sweetness in his system now, in the form of this man and his stunning eyes and gorgeous hair and ruthless cunning and everything Clotted wanted in his house, smiling at him and kissing his cheek like the beautiful vice he was.
Dream Clotted knew it was wrong. He was being forced into it, his desire nothing but a coincidence. But real Clotted willingly took the chance. He too knew it was wrong, but his heart got in the way of his head and bored a hole for Affogato to invade his thoughts in a way nothing else had. In the dream, the forbidden fruit was shoved into his mouth. But in reality, Clotted reached for that apple, bit into its saccharine flesh and let the juice dribble down his chin. And now he had to live with the consequences.
No one would see him the same if they were discovered. Maybe Financier, but she would still be furious that the Consul had fallen for a known traitor. His father would probably kill him if he found out. Clotted was a role model, the perfect figure of an upstanding citizen of the Crème Republic. Brave, intelligent, diplomatic- the prefect leader. He had been molded and been molding himself into that his entire life. Clotted had to be someone to look up to, someone who was steadfast and resisted temptation, who did not succumb to such shameful vices. He was not supposed to feel like this.
But yet, the Consul couldnât not feel like this. Not when Affogato was as wonderful as he was, not when they were so compatible, not when he showed Clotted love and care and acceptance that he had never known in his life. Clotted felt on top of the world with Affogato by his side.
He thought back to the dream. About being kidnapped. It was a scary thing, but the more he thought about it, the more it started to sound like freedom. Affogato was a divine light in Clottedâs life, motivating him to survive the pressures of the day and the day after if just for another chance to see that smile. If the Consul could relinquish everything heâd ever known to spend the rest of his days shrouded in Affogatoâs glory, he would in a heartbeat. No limits to what was acceptable of him, no intense pressure to conform to what was seen as right and necessary and sacrifice every part of himself to please his betters, just Clotted and the man he loved until the day they died.
But that wasnât reality, was it?
Clotted had the Republic. Its entire future rested on his back and to drop it would be to drop the lives of millions. What about their joy? Their futures? With the Crème Republicâs newfound involvement in the pending war against the Cookies of Darkness, the future of the entirety of Earthbread? The friends that Clotted had just made? He couldnât just give up everything for Affogato. Clotted cared about his people. His people depended on the Consul, even if it meant wearing himself out beyond belief every day and ending up too tired to fall asleep. Even if it meant being berated by his father for anything barely on the border of being a mistake. Even if it meant that every single day Clotted could feel himself inching deeper and deeper into a pit of despair that he canât see the bottom of. The Consul wished he could pull himself out, but the weights on his shoulders made it impossible.
And so, Clotted was locked in an eternal stalemate between desire and duty. He knew what would happen if he left, how hollow and guilty it would make him feel, but he couldnât stop himself from wanting to leave. To just⌠leave. He felt his bones ache from the dilemma, or maybe the stress of his life in general, or maybe because he fell asleep hunched over his desk. Either way, Clottedâs mind was sore from the sheer irony of his situation. From the way he should have known better, but never could. From the way he, the Consul of the great Crème Republic, confident and intelligent and virtuous, had been turned into a sodomite by this delicious depravity.
Clotted turned to look at the door. Affogato had left to go back to bed, leaving the hallway empty. The darkness crept out to the Consul, a painful reminder of the horribly heavy situation that drilled into his guts. The pain of reality sunk into his bones, pulling him down into his chair. Clotted flat trapped.
He sighed, picking his quill and turning back to his unfinished papers.
AUTHORâS NOTE: Okay guys this fic is probably the best and longest thing Iâve ever written EVER. Honestly I am so proud of this, I worked really hard to make sure that everything came across clearly and was fun to read and all that good stuff. Iâm still a beginner writer tho so any feedback is appreciated! Thanks the most to @affocream-nation-lives for giving me this idea and keeping me motivated and helping with the process, ur the best đđđđ and you can find the original post that inspired this fic here! Anyways thatâs it from me, remember to drink water today <3
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
