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btsvt-bar · 1 month

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FEVER ꩜ part two

pairing ꩜ journalist!mingyu x afab!reader x journalist!wonwoo

synopsis ꩜ a promotion at work, the new political reporter and a few bottles of wine. writing for a prestigious newspaper can be much more exciting than it seems. it all depends on who your co-workers are.

content/genre ꩜ frenemies with benefits, threesome, smut (18+ mdni)

author's note ꩜ not proofread.

part 2 is finally out!! sorry it took so long, i hope I can make it up to you with the plot I came up with. comments are appreciated! lmk what you think ♡

warnings under the cut!

part one | part two

warnings ꩜ smut, threesome, anal sex, oral (m. receiving), masturbation (f. and m. receiving), cum swallowing, double penetration, alcohol consumption, tipsy sex, sex in the workplace, voyeurism, tit sucking, jacuzzi sex, protected sex. lmk if i forgot something important.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

chapter three

When your boss announced his retirement, both you and Mingyu were nominated to the position. It was up to the board to decide, and you hoped they would choose you.

Being an editor in chief has always been your dream. Even before you started college, you knew you wanted to be the head journalist. So you worked hard for recognition and it happened, almost ten years later. You got promoted earlier, and now you’re at the club with your friends to celebrate it.

You’re dancing along with Yunjin, a mojito in your hand. The music is really loud and it reverbs through your body. Your eyes are closed, you’re just enjoying the moment as much as you can.

Some drunk girl bumps on you and you spill your drink. “Ah, shit!” You curse loudly. “I’m going to buy another one, wait here!” You yell at Yunjin and she gives you a thumbs up.

You work your way through the crowd and reach the bar with some difficulty. As you get there, you find Wonwoo sipping on some whiskey.

“I think I owe you congratulations, editor in chief.” He smiles brightly, making your insides burn a little. “Lemme buy you a drink!” He offers and you accept.

“Thank you!” Your voice is loud and excited. “That’s nice of you.”

He winks.

"I need to use the bathroom, can you hold my drink?" You ask.

"I’ll come with you and we’ll buy it when we come back."

You lead the way and Wonwoo holds you by the waist so you won’t get lost. His big hand burn your skin through the fabric of your clothes and you shiver slightly.

When you reach the dark hallway at the back of the club, you blindly enter the first door you find.

"Oh, I think we’re on the wrong place."

The bathroom had some lockers and you assumed it was for the usage of the working crew. The music fades away and you see Wonwoo’s closed the door.

"I think we’re on the right place." Wonwoo speaks in a low tone, making his voice even more sensual.

"Why is that?" you make a thoughtful pout.

Wonwoo approaches you slowly. The hot look he shoots your way sends a shiver down your spine and makes something in your belly twist and turn.

"I can show you better than I can tell you." he says while licking his lips and bringing both hands to your face.

"Go ahead." you reply and let out a sigh when the man slides his elegant nose against your cheek.

His breath was an intoxicating mixture of mint and alcohol, and that, mixed with his striking perfume, makes you completely trapped in his sensual and dangerous atmosphere.

"Are you dating Mingyu?"

"Does it matter?" you sigh.

"Yes or no?" Wonwoo pulls away, looking into your eyes.

"No." you roll your eyes, feigning impatience. "May I know why you’re so interested?"

Wonwoo gives a side smile, the kind that makes the hairs on your arms rise.

"To know if I can do this." he says and pulls you by the waist, pressing your lips together in a passionate kiss.

The kiss is hot and filled with pure lust as he searches for your tongue, which you willingly present to him, letting him explore your mouth as he pleases. Your fingers delve into the strands of his hair, pulling carefully.

You tilt your head a little so he can deepen the kiss. Wonwoo swallows all the soft moans you emit as he thinks about the things he would like to do. You feel his cock throbbing in his pants, transforming him into a needy being desperate for friction.

On the other hand, you feel your body overheating, almost as if you have a fever. You want the man in front of you with such intensity that you fear exploding if you have to wait any longer.

You break apart for air. Heaving chests, swollen and red mouths after the hungry kiss.

"Your idea gave me an idea." you say seductively. "Sit there.”

Wonwoo doesn't even question the request and sits in the huge wood bench. He sits with his legs open, trying to give his erect penis some space.

Your gaze settles on the spot between his legs almost immediately. You lick your lips in an unconscious gesture, thinking that you made the best decision of the night.

You kneel down in front of Wonwoo, and slowly run your hands and nails up and down his thighs. The man feels his head spin just thinking about where that would lead. All of this feel like he is dreaming. You squeeze his erection over his pants and Wonwoo lets out a hoarse moan. You keep teasing him like this for a few minutes, making him get harder and harder.

When you decide you’ve tortured him long enough, you open the button on his black pants and pull it down along with the white boxers, releasing him from the fabric prison. Taking his member in hand, you begin slow movements. Wonwoo lets out a breathless moan, he wasn't ready for that for the fast pace. So he squirms, trying to hold his body weight with shaky arms.

You stimulating him abruptly. Wonwoo opens his eyes, his eyelids heavy due to excitement. You stare at him through your lashes, a wicked smile plastered on your beautiful face. Without ever breaking eye contact, you poke your tongue out and lick his member, from the base to the head. You start to gently suck at it, swirling your tongue around the entire length and eliciting moans from Wonwoo.

The man grabs your hair, the sight of what you were doing driving him crazy. You start to take him in your mouth slowly, your hand stimulating what doesn't fit inside and the other playing with his heavy and hot balls. Wonwoo's head is thrown back as he sighed in pleasure, your skilled mouth and hands working on his cock deliciously.

Wonwoo pulls your hair lightly and lowers his gaze. Understanding what he wanted, you stop sucking him for a few seconds to give permission. Then, he starts to guide your head, speeding up the pace of things a little.

He closes his eyes tightly and mentally curses every swear word available in his dictionary, feeling closer and closer to completely catching fire. Wonwoo's abdomen tightened as he began to feel his peak, his moans getting louder and louder.

"I-I’m a-almost" he gasps when you squeeze his member a little harder. "I’m almost there, you can stop now" he warns, but you don’t care and redouble efforts.

You move your hand up towards his abdomen. In a few moments, Wonwoo’s mind goes blank, as if you controlled him, and he groans in satisfaction.

The hot, salty liquid takes over your mouth, and you swallow everything in the best way possible.

Releasing him with a pop, you admire the man's exhausted state through your eyelashes. Wonwoo collects a few white drops that escaped from your mouth with his thumb and you suck his digit clean. The man moans softly, completely spent. You sport a satisfied and cunning smile. Wonwoo caresses the skin just below your eyes with his thumb, wiping away the moisture and gently removing a fallen eyelash.

"I guess you just earned a day off now." you state while biting your lower lip.

Wonwoo laughs loudly and covers his face with one hand, his whole body shaking in amusement. "I’ll take you up on that, boss."

chapter four

Mingyu blinks several times as he tries to focus on what was written on the computer screen. The man was trying to write a short article about the NFL players' statements on the pre-season, but he couldn't stay focused for long. Sighing in frustration, the journalist decides to get a mug of coffee.

As he passes your empty table, he realizes he misses spending time with you. He’s used to sharing work space with you since you two were interns. Exchanging insults and secret glances had been part of the routine for years. So not having you around was strange, to say the least.

Arriving close to the small kitchen, Mingyu notices that two people are talking inside the room. He reaches out to open the frosted glass door, but stops halfway when he realizes that the people in question are Yunjin and you. Mingyu leans against the wall next to the door, hiding from your view.

"Where did you go on Saturday?" Yunjin asks as she stirs the spoon in the coffee mug.

"Nowhere?" you respond with a confused tone.

"Come on, Y/N." The other says while rolling her eyes. "You disappeared for about thirty minutes during the party."

You widen your eyes, understanding what your friend was talking about. Taking a sip from your own mug, you try to buy a few seconds.

"If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell Dino!"

"For God’s sake, who did you kill?!"

You purse her lips, unsure of how to say what had happened. You feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Not because of what you had done, but because of how it all happened.

"Don't worry, you won't need to help me clean up a crime scene." you laugh and Yunjin shows a smile. "I needed to use the bathroom…"

"Why do I feel like the end of that sentence is going to be shocking?" Yunjin rests the mug on the table, preparing herself for what you would reveal. "Go on."

"And Wonwoo went with me."

Outside the room, Mingyu feels his blood heat when he hears the exchange. He just couldn't tell if it was out of jealousy or embarrassment for eavesdropping.

"Aaaaand…?" Yunjin encourages you to continue.

"Why do you assume there's more to it than that?"

The youngest closes her eyes and gives you a bored look, as if to say “please, I know you!”.

"We kissed. And I gave him a blowjob." you speak quickly and quietly, leaving Yunjin stunned by the revelation. "Happy?"

Mingyu's eyes widen at the information. Now Wonwoo's smug expression made perfect sense. The other was passing him behind and, until that moment, he had no idea.

"Y/N! I can't believe you kept this from me all these days!"

"What did you want me to do?" you put your hands on your waist. "Hi, Yunjin. I just sucked Wonwoo off in the club’s crew bathroom. Do you want to see the place?"

"It would’ve been better than hiding this information!"

You throw a crumpled napkin in her direction, and Yunjin just laughed as she dodged the object.

"You are ridiculous!" you stick out your tongue and your friend returns the gesture.

"I can't believe something finally happened!" She takes a quick sip of the coffee she was cooling down. "What about Mingyu?"

The man straightens his posture when he hears his own name and frowns, trying to understand where the conversation would lead.

"What about him?"

"He's a little jealous, isn't he?"

"We’re friends. Who have sex from time to time." you shrug. "He knows that, or at least he should."

"And even then he won't make it easy for Wonwoo." Yunjin lets out a little laugh.

"He could stop being annoying and agree to have a threesome with me and Wonwoo, that's for sure."

Yunjin chokes on the dark liquid she was drinking. She wasn't ready to hear that.

Still standing outside, Mingyu takes a deep breath. Your last statement had come as a slight shock. He knew he definitely shouldn't be listening to that conversation, but his feet felt glued to the floor. Because he’s lost in his own thoughts, he misses Yunjin's response. But he comes back to reality in time to hear the end.

"Anyway, he can't do anything about it." you wrinkle your nose. "He could accept it, so everyone has fun."

Mingyu realizes that you and Yunjin could leave at any moment, so he returns to his own table as quickly as possible. He settles into the black leather chair, the information he had just acquired swirling in his mind.

So you wanted to have a threesome with him and Wonwoo? Normally, he wouldn't object if you expressed this desire to him. But it was difficult to say yes when the situation involved Jeon Wonwoo.

Yes, he was jealous.

Mingyu knew you were just friends, but he couldn't help but feel his blood boil when he understood that he was no longer your only focus. He liked having undivided attention.

He could stop being annoying and agree to have a threesome with me and Wonwoo, that's for sure. Your words echo in his head. Mingyu wanted to prove that your judgment was wrong.

The gears in his head began to turn. He had two options: leave that unrequited jealousy aside and surprise you or continue picking on Wonwoo and risk losing what he had. It seemed like an obvious choice.

The sound of Wonwoo's keyboard catches Mingyu's attention. The man looks at the other's profile, who was focused on whatever he’s doing on the computer.

Mingyu thoughtfully rests his face on his hand. He was determined to give you what you wanted, but would Wonwoo be willing to do the same?

He only had one way to know.

"Hey, Jeon." Mingyu calls and the other turns to look at him. "So, I was thinking…"

chapter five

You ring the doorbell at Mingyu's penthouse and sway anxiously from side to side as you wait for the man to open the door. He had invited you over for dinner — according to him, to celebrate your promotion.

I want to know if my new boss can spare a few hours to come over and have a bottle of wine with me. Maybe two, if you’re feeling generous. Mingyu's words echoed in your mind. “Have a bottle of wine” was your code for asking each other to have sex. Of course wine was involved, but it was nowhere near the main attraction of the night.

So you had high expectations.

The huge white wooden door opens, revealing Mingyu. You analyze him from head to toe. He wore a black fishnet tank top, his beefy chest on full display, black swimming shorts and black leather sandals. You bite your lower lip, already feeling your insides begin to stir just from that simple visual stimulation.

"Ah, finally!" he exclaims as he opens the door and you enter the apartment. Mingyu takes your bag — the one that carries your personal belongings to spend the night there — and the black Chanel you carried around every day. "I was about to start drinking your favorite wine without you."

The place was impeccably tidy, as it was every time you visited him. Mingyu was very organized at work, it was no surprise for you to discover that his house followed the same pattern.

"It took me longer than expected to get out of the Tribune." You sigh, exhausted after the day of work. "I'm ready to sink into the hot water of the jacuzzi."

"Let’s go, then."

You climbed the few steps of the staircase that led to the second floor of the penthouse, where Mingyu's huge suite and leisure area were located.

"I'll leave it in the room, can you go ahead open the wine?" Mingyu asks as soon as you reach the last step.

You nod with a smile and head to the bar area. As soon as you turn the wall that limited the room, you realize you’re not alone with Mingyu. Sitting with his back facing you, with a can of beer in his hand, is Jeon Wonwoo.

You freeze in place. What was he doing there? Mingyu and Wonwoo weren't friends. Why was the political journalist sitting on Mingyu’s balcony drinking a cold beer while listening to some hip hop coming from the speakers installed throughout the apartment?

"Do you like your gift?" Mingyu whispers in your ear as he sneaks closer. "I thought you deserved something special, boss."

You shudder at the proximity. Mingyu hugs you from behind, his strong hands flat on your stomach.

"I-I’m not sure if I understand..." you murmur. Your blood’s rushing quickly through your veins, overheating your body. "What kind of joke’s this, Mingyu?"

"There’s no joke, baby." he provokes. His hands played with the hem of the white blouse you wore. "I'm just making a new friend."

You take a deep breath in complete disbelief. Your skin burned with the promise of something you don’t even understand yet. Mingyu was up to something and the target of the trick was you.

"Did you make some kind of stupid bet? Whatever it is, leave me out of it!"

Mingyu lets out a low, amused laugh. He brushes your hair out of the way before placing a quick kiss on the side of your neck, and you instantly relax into his touch.

"Stop being annoying, Y/N. It's not what you're thinking." Mingyu says close to your skin. "And, fyi, I really bet on you. But not in the way you think."

You voice a sound of doubt, not understanding what the hell he was talking about.

He gives you another kiss, this time near your jaw. "Now, how about we drink some wine?"

That’s when you understand the real reason for being there. Mingyu had spoken from the beginning, but you didn’t get it. Using the metaphor you created, he invited you for a threesome with Wonwoo.

"Wine sounds good." you respond softly, feeling your head spin. "Both bottles."

Mingyu pulls you in for a quick kiss, pleased with your response. He caresses your cheek affectionately and you smile before asking "Do you want to start with white or red?"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

Your reflection’s slightly blurred. You tie your hair into a high bun and carefully adjust the straps of your bikini. You’re in the bathroom of Mingyu's suite, preparing to go to tbe jacuzzi with the men waiting on the balcony. When you’re satisfied, you open the sliding door and turn off the light before going out.

You stop at the door and lean against the dark wood while analyzing the two men who were talking near the railing. Wonwoo was already shirtless, wearing only white shorts. Mingyu says something that makes the other laugh. The animosity between them was forgotten many glasses of wine ago.

You analyze them both thoroughly. Jeon Wonwoo was the very definition of hot. The defined chest and marked collarbone makes your head dizzy. His abs were defined, but nothing too exaggerated, his arms are strong too. You want to feel the muscles under your palms. Kim Mingyu wasn't left behind. All the hours invested in the gym were worth it. You were used to seeing him naked, but you never stopped feeling your stomach heat up at the sight of his perfect body.

You’re slowly losing sanity, for sure.

"Ready for the jacuzzi, baby?" Mingyu's voice brings you to reality and you feel your cheeks heat up from being caught staring at them.

"Yes, sir." You turn around slowly, showing off your white bikini. "But you don't seem to be." You add, nodding at the lame excuse of a tshirt that Mingyu is still wearing.

"Why don't you help me, then?" He challenges with one of his eyebrows raised.

You shrug and approach him. Mingyu raises his arms and you remove his shirt while smoothing your hand over his toned torso in the process. As soon as he’s free, Mingyu discards the clothing on the lounger next to him. He holds your face with one hand and presses your lips together in a passionate kiss.

Wonwoo watched everything with interest. The wine served perfectly to calm him down and helped him get used to the idea of what you’re going to do, but it didn't stop his heart from beating faster in his chest.

Mingyu wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer. With a quiet moan, you allow him to wrap his tongue around yours, kissing you slowly.

Wonwoo approaches and starts kissing your neck, taking advantage of the fact that the area was exposed. You break the kiss to look at him, two sets of eyes burning with lust. Without further ado, you kiss. Wonwoo takes on the task of distributing kisses and caresses over your body. When you’re satisfied, you pull Wonwoo's lower lip between your teeth, ending the kiss.

"Shall we go to the jacuzzi?" You invite them before heading towards the raised area of the balcony.

You climb up the five steps carefully, Wonwoo and Mingyu following. They cross the few meters of the deck and stop at the edge of the jacuzzi. The water bubbled and gentle steam rose from the surface. You sit on the edge and put your feet inside, enjoying the warmth.

"I want champagne." You look at Mingyu, who carried a bucket with a bottle and glasses inside.

"You're very bossy." He jokes, but opens the sparkly drink quickly.

"We're having a celebration in my honor, aren't we?" you roll your eyes as he picks up a glass full of the bubbly liquid. "I can be bossy."

The men laugh at your words. Finally, they enter the jacuzzi and are submerged in the hot water. You stand between them, your left hand — which was holding the glass — resting on the edge.

You sit in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the view. Mingyu's apartment had the perfect location: no buildings around and a clean view of the river.

Mingyu rests the empty glass on the deck and his eyes lock on you. Without breaking eye contact, he approaches you. His left hand squeezes your right thigh. "I think it's time for you to enjoy your gift." he whispers close to your skin, sending shivers through your body.

You try to kiss Mingyu, but he holds your chin and guides your attention to the other end of the jacuzzi. You stare at Wonwoo. He’s biting his plump lower lip at the scene. Unable to resist for another second, you call the man closer with your index finger and he promptly complies. You kiss Wonwoo as he pulls you onto his lap.

The addition of the hot water with Wonwoo's hands squeezing your waist and Mingyu's hands roaming your body made you feel like your blood is boiling in your veins. It’s the true feeling of a fever that gets higher by the second.

You separate from Wonwoo and give Mingyu a teasing look. He knows the game you’re playing, but he wants to see what you’re doing next. You start distributing kisses across Wonwoo’s jaw and neck, occasionally touching your lips in a tempting way. Wonwoo's big hands are now resting on your hips, tightly griping you when he likes the stimulation.

Mingyu calls you, needing some attention. You shake your head and plant a kiss at the base of Wonwoo's neck, without peeling your eyes off of the other.

"Are you really going to use him to make me jealous?" Mingyu grunts, feeling strangely excited about the situation.

"I don't particularly feel used." Wonwoo chuckled. Mingyu frowns. Of course that idiot would side with you.

"I'll only make you jealous if you're jealous of me, my dear."

"I’m not."

"Great. Then I can pay exclusive attention to him."

Mingyu lets out a low growl and grabs you by the wrist. You try to hold back a laugh.

"Okay. I'm jealous and I want some attention too." he reveals reluctantly. "Happy?"

You tilt your head, a mischievous smile painting your lips. You shuffle around to sit on Mingyu's lap, with one leg on either side of his body. He’s already showing signs of excitement and you let out a contented sigh at the feeling.

"Overjoyed." The kiss you exchange is hungry. You kiss passionately, your tongues caressing each other quickly and possessively. Mingyu looks for the clasp on your bikini and unties the white strings from your back and neck with ease. He pulls the fabric off and throws it anywhere, soon filling his hands with your breasts.

Your snake your left hand to the back of Mingyu's head and lightly pull the strands. With your free hand, you reach out to caress Wonwoo's erection through his shorts.

He closes his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh, happy to be getting some attention too. You brush your fingers across his lower abdomen, teasing him, and Wonwoo catches his breath. You play with the hem of his shorts for a few seconds, making him practically squirm in anticipation. Slowly, you enter the shorts, sliding your fingers gently until you reaches Wonwoo's cock. You wrap your hand around his thick girth and start moving back and forth inside the tight space.

Wanting to see the scene, you move away from Mingyu and fix your gaze on Wonwoo's expressions. His head’s hung back, eyes closed tightly and his slightly open mouth emits low, deep moans.

The water from the bathtub reached his chest, the droplets glistening on his golden skin. Meanwhile, Mingyu starts to guide your hips against his, both of you needing the friction. Suddenly, Wonwoo grabs your wrist, stopping the movements.

"Your turn." Once again, you sit on Wonwoo's lap. This time, you lean your back against his chest. He directs both hands to your breasts and squeeze them eagerly. He plays with your hard nipples between his fingers and kisses your neck, eliciting high pitched sounds of pleasure. You move your hips slowly, teasing his erection. After a while, Wonwoo's right hand continues to pay attention to your breasts while his left one slides down your belly and stops at the hem of your bikini. He pulls the fabric down and you help him remove the last item that’s somehow covering you. You open your legs widely, resting your right foot in the small space between both men, to have more stability.

You feel a third hand touching your thigh. Mingyu caresses your skin with one hand while the other slowly stimulates his hard cock through his shorts. You’re pulled back to Wonwoo when slides a thick finger inside you. Without encountering much difficulty, he fingers you slowly, earning a surprised exclamation in return.

"One more." You demand after a few seconds, thinking that the single digit is not enough.

Wonwoo readily complies and adds another finger, receiving a moan of approval in response. Mingyu lets go of your thigh and his fingers find their way to your clit. He draws small circles and see stars. It’s definitely a unique feeling to have two men in charge of your pleasure.

Not long after, Wonwoo feels you squeeze his fingers, an indication that you’re close to cumming, so he fingers you more vigorously. Your hands hold Wonwoo's biceps tightly and hides your face in his neck, preparing yourself for the explosion that’s coming. Mingyu continues his movements on you and moves closer, connecting his lips to your free breast. It’s the feeling you needed to push you off the cliff.

You shudder, feeling your insides melt and your mind fly thousands of meters away. You faintly hear someone talking, but you can’t make out a word. When you come back down, Wonwoo and Mingyu move away, giving you space to recover. You let go of Wonwoo's arm and small crescent moons are marked in the place where you clawed him without noticing.

"How about we get out of here?" Mingyu proposes and everyone agrees.

The wind outside punishes your naked body. You shudder and try to protect yourself with your arms. Mingyu hugs you from behind and guides both of you to the double lounger. While you get comfortable, the men remove their shorts to be completely naked. You get goosebumps, but that had nothing to do with the turbulent air around you. You let the vision of their naked form burn in your brain, wanting to remember this moment forever.

Mingyu climbs onto the lounger, positioning himself above you before kissing you again. You let him slide between your legs, his dick sliding with easy against your wet pussy. Wonwoo sits next to you and jerks his own cock. Mingyu lets go of you, leaving you wanting more. He stretches his body to the side table and returns with condoms and lubricant in hand. You open your mouth in shock when you realize Mingyu had actually planned this whole moment.

"Are you going to join us or just watch like you did in the archives room?" Mingyu teases Wonwoo, who rolls his eyes.

"If you keep teasing me like that, I'm going to start thinking that you're the one who wanted this threesome." the other sasses and grabs one of the condoms.

Mingyu laughs and turns to you, who’s silently watching everything. He gives the you a reassuring smile, his whole sexy persona fading away for a bit.

"How are we doing this?" you ask and lick your lips, looking forward to the main event.

"Mingyu in the back, me in the front." Wonwoo responds as he gets up from the lounger, already properly protected. "Is that okay with you?"

You nod, either way being completely fine. Mingyu sits in the empty space and slaps his hands on his thighs, inviting you to come closer. Anal sex was nothing new for you two, but you’re a little apprehensive every time.

Mingyu hugs you, placing a tender kiss on your shoulder. He stimulates your clit, hoping it’ll relax you. Soon enough, you feel less tense. "Do you remember our safeword?" Mingyu asks close to your ear, causing goosebumps.

"Tamagotchi."

"Good girl." he whispers and kisses your shoulder again.

Mingyu applies a good amount of lubricant to his cock and to your rim. He positions himself and penetrates carefully, pulling your hips down. He feels the familiar tightness and takes a deep breath, trying hard not to lose control and shove everything in at once. Concentrating on continuing to stimulate your clit, he is soon buried in you to the hilt. You move up and down Mingyu's length a few times, trying to get used to him.

"Your turn." You call Wonwoo when you think you can handle both.

Wonwoo licks his lips and positions himself between yours and Mingyu's legs. He adjusts himself as best he can to have support, staying close to you. You stare at his cock, salivating as you remember the feeling of sucking it. He was thicker than Mingyu, so you couldn't wait to feel him inside you after having sex with just the same guy for so long.

Wonwoo aligns himself with your entrance and slides in. You moan softly as you feel him penetrate and fill you. He proceeds slowly, afraid of hurting you. When he's completely inside, the three of you let out a sigh in unison. The men stand still, waiting for you to authorize them to start moving.

You had never felt so full before. Having Wonwoo and Mingyu inside you at the same time filled you in ways you only dreamed of. But that alone wasn't enough to put out the fire that consumed your veins.

Mingyu and Wonwoo also feel something different. It’s more then the tight fit of your inner walls hugging them. They feel each other through the thin wall that separated both your wholes. They won’t say it out loud, but it’s is slowly driving them insane.

"You can move now."

They begin to move their hips, each at their own pace. In a matter of seconds, they synchronize their pace. Two pairs of hands caress your entire body, leaving a warm trail wherever they touch.

Your bite your lower lip to hold back your loud moans, feeling like you’ll collapse at any second. Mingyu bites your shoulder to contain his own grunting and Wonwoo growls softly close to your ear, making you even more excited. You hands grab Wonwoo’s ass eagerly. They maintain the rhythm for several minutes, their bodies reaching a feverish state.

Mingyu feels like he's getting dangerously close to his peak, but he refuses to let it happen without you getting there first. So he kisses every available inch of skin and slides his hand between Wonwoo and you, once again stimulating your clit.

"Baby, I'm dying here. I need you to cum for us." he pants between moans.

"I’m almost there."

Wonwoo feels his muscles burn with effort, but he speeds up his pace. You bury your face in his neck and grab him tightly. You try to focus on everything that’s happening, on the hands that touch you, on the lips that wander over her neck, on the two men who are trying so hard to give you pleasure. Giving in to the sensations, when you least expected it, fireworks explode behind your eyelids.

For the second time, your body shudder as you let out a long, contented moan. Seeing you reach your orgasm, the men let go and followed behind, the two falling over the edge together. They slow their movements little by little, enjoying the ecstasy. Wonwoo pulls out, complaining about the loss of contact, and throws himself into the empty space next to Mingyu. He uses the last bit of energy to take you off his lap and place you between him and Wonwoo.

The three of you remain practically motionless for several minutes, your legs intertwined, each one enjoying the dopamine that circulating in your veins. When the cold of the night begins to become unbearable, Mingyu takes you in his arms and Wonwoo the glasses of champagne, and you the apartment.

"You were very good for us, baby." Mingyu praises you softly as he carefully places you on the bed. He plants an almost innocent kiss on your lips and heads to the closet looking for something to wear.

Now that things are over, Wonwoo doesn’t quite know how to act. He notices that his backpack is on the table next to the window and walks over to it, taking off a pair of boxers and putting them on so he doesn't feel so exposed.

"Hey, can you get my panties from the white bag?" you ask with a smile and he does as asked.

He hands the light blue cotton panties to you, who slide the fabric over your trembling legs. Mingyu returns wearing leopard print shorts and a Sid Vicious tshirt.

"Now, besides your panties, did you also lose your blouse, Y/N?" Mingyu teases, returning to the role he usually played.

"It’s not lost, you're wearing it." you reply and pull the hem of his tshirt up. Mingyu rolls his eyes, removes the garment by the collar and hands it for you to wear, but not before stealing another kiss from you.

Wonwoo feels uncomfortable watching the scene, as if he's watching something he shouldn't. "Well, I think it's time to go."

"No!" you exclaim and Wonwoo turns around, his face contorted in confusion. "We're going to watch a movie, I want you here too."

"We'll probably sleep within the first fifteen minutes..." Mingyu says with a laugh. "But you can stay and watch everything if you want."

Wonwoo seems to analyze the proposition. "You want me to sleep here?" He pats his hand on the bed, perplexed.

"Your dick was buried in me until fifteen minutes ago, so why can't we sleep in the same bed?" you retort with a shrug and Mingyu stifles a laugh at your words.

You settle in the middle of the bed and pat the free space on your left side while Mingyu walks to the right side. Wonwoo hesitates, but accepts the invitation.

As soon as he settles down, you lay your head on his chest and Wonwoo lets out a satisfied sound. His warm skin warms your cold cheek.

"You put on the bedding I brought." you comment, smoothing out the pink sheets you gave Mingyu a few months ago, after the two of you ruined a set of his.

"This ugly thing was the only clean one." he shrugs.

"It's not ugly!" You whimper and slap the man.

"It’s very ugly." He laughs while smoothing the affected area. The smile never leaves his face.

"It's not ugly, right Wonwoo?"

The man jumps slightly when he hears his name, his eyes staring at the sheet. "It’s cute." he agrees with you, making Mingyu roll his eyes and you giggle.

"Whatever, let's just pick a movie and sleep." Mingyu takes the remote from the bedside table and turns off the lights using the switch next to the bed.

The bright light on the TV shines and Mingyu chooses the movie Divergent, after much insistence from you. Wonwoo pays attention to the beginning of the it and relaxes into a comfortable position to fall asleep. Mingyu doesn't even try to watch, he hugs you from behind and hides his face in your hair. A few minutes later, you also fall asleep, still snuggled comfortably against Wonwoo’s chest. Closing his eyes, Wonwoo allows the exhaustion to take him to dreamland.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

tags ꩜ @asscoups17 @wonvsmile @porridgesblog @gaslysainz @thepoopdokyeomtouched @sunset-sana @coupsgfsstuff @stagefrjghts @wonuwonder @pepmiw @walkxthexmoon @cecefarm @nerdycheol @thedensworld

thank you for reading! it made me really happy to see you wanted to be tagged in part 2, so i hope i made you justice 🫂🤍

#mingyu smut #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen hard hours #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo smut #mingyu x reader #wonwoo x reader #minwon smut #wonwoo hard hours #mingyu hard hours #seventeen x reader #my works

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house-of-lovin · 1 year

Text

legally binded - 2

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. ♣ prev part | next part

Chapter 2: Lakers, Headlines… New York?

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: part 2 of legally binded! I hear yall and I see the comments! This will be a series, got a lot of ideas for this one. But of course, I am open to hearing what you guys think and want to see! A little bonding moment for R and Jenna 😮‍💨

Word Count: 6.3k+ (lol sorry, may have gone overboard!)

“So… what does this mean, exactly?” Jenna asks for both of you.

“We’re gonna make the two of you the talk of the town. And hopefully get people to back off on the allegations that Jenna is difficult to work with and that Y/N is entering her Justin Bieber phase — and not the good one.” Your PR agent, Liv, purses her lips.

Jenna can’t help the snort that leaves her lips, awkwardly coughing to hide it. But you catch it anyway, throwing her a glare.

“Difficult to work with huh?” You speak up — in faux interest. “Not hard to see why.”

This time Jenna is the one glaring at you. “You don’t even know me.”

“You don’t know me either.” You huff.

“Enough!” Jake yells. Anger steadily rose in the man’s bloodstream.

You and Jenna flinch at his loudness. Sliding down the chair, you feel ashamed again; ignoring Jenna’s piercing glare.

Liv is sighing but opts not to add fuel to the fire. “It’s going to take a few hours to get the paperwork and contract drafted —but once it’s done we’ll have it sent over to you. For now, get to know each other, I don’t know.”

You shoot Liv a scowl. She was making this already awkward situation so much worse.

She catches your look, sighing, “Just–pretend this is another job and you’re new castmates. Anything please. ” She rolls her eyes, already fed up with what disaster this morning has been.

“You can do that, right?” Liv crosses her arms, staring at you two in question.

“Yes.” Jenna mumbles.

“Mhmm.” You hum lazily, changing the subject. “Can we tell people? That this isn’t real?”

Liv glances at Jake and Sarah sharing a silent conversation. They nod at each other. “If they sign an NDA. Only family, your team and us. This cannot leave the room.”

You feel pale. You couldn’t even tell the people around you about this fake relationship without binding them to a contract? Suddenly, the situation starts to feel more real; the carpet of delusion being pulled from under you.

You’re standing up, pushing the chair back with a loud scrape that rings terribly against your ears. “I need some air.”

“You’re really leaving in the middle of a meeting?” Jenna questions with a snip, crossing her arms.

“Sorry your highness, I got better places to be. Liv you can send the contract to my assistant. Ortega, wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you… but well.” You trail off, shrugging.

Liv and Jake are fuming red in the face at your words, but you were still hungover and the comedown was begging to wreak havoc – your irritation getting harder to restrain.

Jenna’s face scrunches, offended. You walk away, not bothering to listen for a response.

“There’s no way I can work with her…” You catch it anyway.

●●●

“I mean can you believe what they’re asking me to do!” You pace up and down your living room.

“Oh come on, I don’t buy the allegations that she’s difficult, you know they love to tear women down when they get their come up.” Link reasons tapping on his phone.

“I mean how can this face be rude?” He holds up a picture of Jenna at the SAG awards and you furrow your brows because you don’t remember seeing her there — you might have been late.

You were just nominated anyway. So you pulled a Beyoncé and only showed up for your category.

“Maybe Jenna’s not so bad?”

“Quit it.”

It was now mid-afternoon and the battering Californian sun was shining bright above clear skies and through your floor-to-ceiling windows. You bought this house in the Palisades for the peace it provided you. Not too far from central L.A. but still tucked away enough for a moment of solitude with a life like yours.

It was your own version of a sanctuary – like a home should be.

“Okay, that sounds crazy, I agree. But dude, you fucked up. Big time.” Your long-time friend Link said.

You and Link grew up together and when you got your come up, best believe you took your best friend with you. You offered to help him out while he lives with you as you achieve your dreams but ever the stubborn guy, he refused. Only agreeing to move to Los Angeles with you if he works as your assistant to earn his keep.

He’s a good guy like that.

Since then, he’s been by your side. Through every disappointment, bad news, great news, red carpets, and movie premieres. You couldn’t do this job without him.

He’s like your brother.

“I know!” You groan, dropping to the couch. Why the hell did you let your designer choose these couches? They were stiffer than a plank of wood.

“Look at this article online, 2-time Grammy winner and Academy Award Nominee, Y/N L/N’s fall from grace? Sin City indeed! The actress blacks out at a Vegas strip club! Click here to see exclusive mugshots.”

“They’re selling my fucking mugshots?” You lift your head above the headrest horrified, watching Link sit across the room on a bar stool reading his phone.

“I’m pretty sure they’re public domain.” He refutes.

Falling back, you groan louder – hiding your face behind your palms.

“I don’t see how you have a choice, buddy.” He sighs, placing his phone on the bar top.

“There has to be another way. Why can’t I just run away? I’ll fly back home for a couple of weeks, and let all of this shit die down. It’s worked before.”

“Yeah, I told Jake and Liv you’d say that.” He rolls his eyes, walking to you. “I don’t think you can run from this one, Y/N.”

The softness in his voice has you sighing in defeat. He’s right, you know he’s right. This wasn’t just some tiny mistake you can brush under the carpet like all the other ones. This was serious.

You got arrested. For blacking out with someone who had drugs on them. In a strip club, no less.

What a mess.

Something like this could seriously hurt your career. You could lose roles, relationships, connections, brand deals – the blood, sweat, and tears you poured in; everything you worked so hard for – gone.

“I know… Doesn’t make me wanna do it more though,” You mumble, distantly staring at the high ceiling.

He chuckles, “I know bud. But this is what we signed up for, right?”

You frown. It’s what we signed up for.

It’s a mantra that you have adopted in all your years as a working performer. It certainly wasn’t the most comforting and loving thing to say, but it works because it’s true and there’s no greater motivator than a slap in the face to reality.

You much preferred tough love anyway.

“Right.” You mutter.

“Come on, I think Jenna’s manager just sent me the signed contract, they’re just waiting for your signature.” He walks off to his office.

You close your eyes, letting the sun warm you up through the glass panes. A few moments pass until Link comes back out with a tablet and pen. “Sign here, under Jenna’s signature.”

She has pretty handwriting – you note as you sign the electronic document.

Call it weird but you had a thing for people with neat handwriting, steady hands and all that.

But then you remember who the professional signature belonged to and forced yourself to snap out of it.

“Did you even read it?” He arches a brow.

“That’s what lawyers are for.”

He scoffs, “Okay, superstar. It basically says what you and Jenna need to do. Public spottings at first, then dates, appearances at each other's events. Maybe posts on social media, but the idea is to be discreet – we can’t have it seem like we’re using this to scrub away the Vegas incident.”

“But that’s exactly what we’re doing,” You sigh.

“Yeah, but they don’t know that. And it’s your damn job to make sure they don’t ever find out either.”

You rub your forehead; a headache beginning to form. Not sure if it was from the hangover or from all this PR mess.

“Anways,” He takes the tablet out of your hands. “I’ll send these over to Liv. Now as for you. Go upstairs, take a shower because you smell horrendous and then put on what your stylist picked out.”

Wrinkling your nose, you ask, “What, why? I literally just got back, I already have to go out and show my face? The paparazzi will hound me.”

“We have to beat the Vegas headline with a bigger story, so you need to be seen with Jenna ASAP. That means out for a late lunch at a well-known spot downtown. You have to act like the news doesn’t bother you – like you’re moving past it.”

“Who goes out for late lunch?”

He sends you a pointed look.

“I’ll be upstairs…” You mumble, dragging your feet as you ascend the steps.

●●●

You tap your fingers on the steering wheel, glancing up at the modest house through your sunglasses.

A mid-modern century house in Glendale. Not where you pictured her to live but whatever. Her front yard was bare but professionally trimmed. No signs of any plant life that made the space look a little… dull. The only signs of life in the house was the humble SUV that you assumed belonged to the young actress.

Your tapping grows impatient the longer you wait.

As if staring harder at the front door will make the actress come out faster. Another five agonizing minutes pass – you seriously consider pulling away to go home and sleep off this hangover but Link stood a good half-foot taller than you.

He’d lock your ass out of your own home.

Eventually, the door opens and the short brunette walks down the driveway in confident strides. Dressed in jeans, combat boots and a cardigan; those headphones around her neck, again. Somehow, she looked consistently gothic and you pondered if she really was like her character in real life.

You see her scan your Mercedes-AMG GT3 for a moment before pulling the passenger door open; sliding into the cushy seats. “Nice car.”

You blink, “Thanks… you sure took your time though,”

You couldn’t stop the slight attitude that accompanied your words.

She gives you a sharp glance, “why didn’t you just ring the doorbell?”

“You had to unlock the gate to let me in, you knew I was waiting outside.” You huff, staring at her back.

“Then would have waited in the living room if you had knocked. What difference does it make?” She shrugs.

“That’s not the poi–” You gruff but stop, inhaling a deep breath. The pounding in your skull was begging for you to cool down.

“I think I much preferred waiting in the car… alone.” You whisper the last bit then shoot her a sarcastic glance; shifting the gear in reverse.

You don’t bother to check if she had her seatbelt on as you aggressively pull out her driveway; leaving skid marks on the pavement.

She jerks forward at the sudden movement. “Shit– a little warning next time?” She glares bracing herself on the dashboard.

“Hands off the leather,” You bite as you pull off her street and to the restaurant Link sent you the directions to.

She scoffs. “My driveway!”

●●●

“Table for 2 under Ortega? Please follow me, can I be the first one to say how delighted we are that you two decided to dine here.” The host enthused a little too much.

“It’s our pleasure.” Jenna answers politely.

You plaster a tight-lipped smile keeping quiet; sliding a modest hand on Jenna’s back when he leads you past other patrons and to a secluded table – heads already turning in your direction. Jenna jumps, sending you a menacing glare and for a moment you feel slightly scared by the fire in her eyes – dropping your hand immediately.

Okay, no touching. Got it.

“Here we are, the best seat in the house. We have complementary champagne on the table to start your evening. We’ll give you a few moments to get settled,” He sends a tight smile causing his wrinkles to show – definitely trying too hard but you’d never say no to free alcohol.

“Thank you,” You bid, pulling a chair out for Jenna.

She walks to claim the opposite chair, assuming you’re taking the one you pulled out. But she stares as you stand behind the open chair, awkwardly. Only then did she seem to realize that the seat was for her.

Raising her brows, she looked a little surprised but wordlessly and a bit awkwardly (she sends a tight-lipped smile) sits over to the chair allowing you to push it in for her, before taking your own seat across.

The first thing you grab is the bottle of champagne and the flute.

You miss Jenna’s tracking eyes as you pour a hefty glass. “Is that really the best thing for you to have, especially after last night? Also, it’s like 4 PM.”

“I didn’t know you were the alcohol police and it’s 8 PM somewhere.” You take big gulps of the champagne, savouring the way it burned but also felt cool on the way down.

“Trust me, I’m not. But my ass is on the line here too and there are people watching.” She grits out the last part, signalling with her eyes. You glance up catching two girls from another table with their phones up, no doubt taking pictures and recording you and Jenna.

Looking away, you place the glass flute down, sitting back in your seat with a slump. “Fine…”

“When are you going to take this seriously?” She whispers, tone: sharp.

“I am taking this seriously,” You fight to keep your face impassive knowing there are eyes on you both.

“No, you’re not. You couldn’t even sit through the meeting this morning and now you’re acting like a child. Might I remind you, we’re in this mess because of you.”

You clench your jaw, trying your hardest not to blow up in this fine establishment.

“I’m the reaso—“

“Are we ready to order?” The waitress cuts in.

“Yes, we are.” Jenna turns to her with that large, sweet smile that sells millions.

●●●

‘New Gal-Pals in Hollywood, Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega spotted out for lunch’

It was now the following day after your ‘lunch date’ with Jenna and you wish to say it only got better as time went on but that would be a lie. You two did not get along – at all. How was it possible for your management to find the one person on this planet that you just couldn’t get along with.

You know difficult, you can handle difficult. You’ve worked with the likes of Shia Lebeouf, Gweneth Paltrow, Michael Bay… just to name a few. You’ve had your fair share of difficult colleagues.

But this girl? She’s something else.

“Gal pals? Really?” Your nose scrunches in distaste.

“No wait, this one’s better! Wednesday star Jenna Ortega supports new bestie, Y/N L/N amid Vegas arrest.”

“Stop.” But Link’s loud laughter overpowers you.

“Oh! We got one that’s different, Trouble-maker, A-lister, Y/N L/N, will drag down rising-star Jenna Ortega!”

“Okay, that’s just bullshit.” You pique up.

“Rising star?” Jenna voices in disdain.

“Enough!” Liv’s voice echoes from your laptop speaker. “This isn’t the headline we wanted.”

You roll your eyes, scanning the candid photo of you and Jenna sitting at the restaurant.

The images look tame enough and can definitely be interpreted as just two friends out for a bite. News outlets don’t buy it, but the internet is already freaking out; spewing out unsolicited opinions on this new pairing. Some think you two are just friends, some think it’s a date, others think it’s for a movie role.

“I thought I did a good job,” Jenna speaks up on the other line of the Facetime call.

“Clearly not…” You mumble, but she catches it anyway, rolling her eyes.

“We need to up the ante, this is not good enough.” Liv sighs and you can hear the trepidation through the call.

“Like what?”

“There’s a Lakers game tonight and you two are making your first official appearance.” She grins with mischief.

“Lakers?” Jenna rouses, sounding excited.

“How would they interpret that differently than before?” Shaking your head.

“I got a plan already, darling. I have a guy in TMZ who’s going to break the first official headline that you two are in the ‘getting to know each other’ stage. Which is where you two come in… after the game headlines of your guys’ date night will be the number one trending topic.” She explains, eyes lighting up in excitement.

Liv loves to lay out her plans to whoever was willing to listen — you’re already tuning her out.

You are sure her plan is genius like she says it is.

“Are they versing someone decent, at least?” You ask tiredly. When were you going to get some time to yourself?

“Celtics.”

“I’m in.”

●●●

“Do you really have to wear sunglasses indoors? Everyone knows we’re here.” Jenna whispers from beside you.

“It’s part of the look.” You retort, sliding down the foldable chair. Why are courtside seats so uncomfortable for all the money I’m paying?

“What look.”

“We got two stars in the Lakers house tonight! Everyone, please give a warm welcome to Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega!”’ The announcer booms through the stadium speakers.

Looking up at the jumbotron, you and Jenna are plastered big and bright on the screen. You flash a dazzling smile and force your body to untense – ignoring Jenna’s quip.

You embrace the loud cheers and applauds, waving and sending the camera that dazzling smile you have mastered. Jenna copies your movements.

Eventually, the camera pans away from you two and you finally feel like you can breathe again.

“God, I think my eardrums ruptured.” She complains, clutching her earring clad-ears painfully.

You laugh, “Oh come on, you don’t have people shouting for your attention at you at every turn?”

She frowns, shaking her head, “Not at this level… I like to think I still have some anonymity.”

Snorting, you say, “Yeah well, just wait. That’ll all be gone — so enjoy it while you can.”

You don’t see her frown deepen because you spot a familiar face. “Look who’s in the house!”

“Hey!” You stand briskly. Lebron James comes barreling over in large steps; greeting you with a hug and a pat on the back.

“Feeling ready for tonight?” You ask, smiling up at the athlete. Being a big name in Hollywood definitely came with nice perks like knowing world-renowned athletes.

As much as you complain about your life – this is certainly a perk you can’t deny.

“You know it! We’re gonna mop the floors with your lil Celtics team.” He smirks making you laugh.

“Okay, save the trash-talking for the court... This is Jenna by the way.” You move to the side to reveal Jenna sitting; watching the two of you with a flabbergasted look on her face.

“Nice to meet you, Jenna. My kids loved Wednesday, I think my daughter might dress up as you this Halloween.” He jokes; shaking her hand.

It was quite an amusing sight to see Jenna crane her neck to meet the basketball player’s eyes. And you really tried your hardest not to snort when her tiny hands slide into his gigantic palms – her upper arm practically disappearing in his grasp.

They continue talking for a few more moments before the basketball player eventually bids his goodbye to continue warming up.

“You’re friends with Lebron James?” She asked in disbelief when you sit back down.

“Yeah, is that surprising?” You arch a brow.

“Yes?” She asks like you were stupid for even asking.

You chuckle. “Well, now you know.”

“Also… a Celtics fan, really? That’s just disgraceful.” She shakes her head.

You scrunch your face in faux annoyance, puffing your chest proudly, “Hell yeah the Celtics! We’re gonna wipe the court with your little Lakers in their own house.”

“Don’t let people hear you say that, you’ll be stoned,” She laughs heartily.

For a brief moment, you watch as she shakes in laughter at her own joke – unable to fight the infectiousness of her laugh. Her bangs shake with her movements as she attempts to hide her smile behind her hand.

Were you guys getting along? Nah, impossible.

“I’ll just use you as a shield.”

“I’m like five-foot, I don’t think I’ll be much help.” She snorts.

“Pocket-sized shield – makes travelling easier.” You shrug, smirking.

She shoots you a side-eye but you see the smirk she tries to hide from you.

Eventually, the national anthem is sung and tip-off begins. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying yourself right now. After the weekend disaster in Vegas, all you wanted to do was sleep away your fuck-ups. But this… isn’t so bad.

Jenna seems to have loosened up and allowed herself to enjoy the game.

You cheer enthusiastically when the Celtics go on a 12-0 run in the fourth quarter.

The score is 94 - 90, with the Lakers in the lead. You were standing now, your concession drinks and snacks forgotten under your chair. The energy in the stadium is infectious as everyone cheers for their respective teams.

“This is what I’m talking about, now we got a game!” You clap loudly, yelling.

“$100 Lakers win this one.” The sweet voice shouts over the crowd.

You turn, grinning. “That’s it? $1000, Celtics win.”

The quiet contemplation is burning bright in her eyes, but eventually, she gives in extending her hand. “You’re on.”

Somehow, your grin stretches wider when she slides her hand in yours to seal the deal. “I can’t wait to be a $1000 richer.”

“In your dreams,” she clicks her tongue, focusing on the court.

“Come on ref, that was a foul!” She shouts at the checkered-shirt man as he runs past you.

She’s not looking at you but you find yourself unable to look away from her.

Granted, you barely knew anything about Jenna before meeting her yesterday. But you think you like this laid-back version of her more than the one you met at first.

A whistle-blowing breaks your staring before it becomes too obvious.

Eventually, the game goes into overtime with the score being 104 - 104 when the Lakers gets both free throws in. You’re practically shaking in excitement as you watch from courtside.

You are bent over, hands on your knees like a soccer mom watching their kid get a penalty kick. You miss Jenna snapping a photo of the court with you bent over in the corner of the picture.

“Come on, Tatum!” You shout, a vein on your forehead protruding.

“Did you say a $1000 richer?” She mocks, using your words against you.

“Don’t go on a victory lap yet,” You stand as the last time-out is called, “The score’s even and there’s still 5 seconds on the clock. It’s anybody's game right now.”

When the whistle blows signalling time-out is over, you are tense again. Jenna seems to share your sentiments as she absentmindedly grabs your jacket when the Celtics shooting guard walks behind the line to inbound the ball.

Anticipation getting the best of her.

You ignore the touch – unsure if you wanted to pull away or never move your arm again.

“Shit!” You yell when someone on the Lakers intercepts the Celtics attempt to inbound — sloppily passing it to another player in gold and purple.

3 seconds remaining on the clock and a fast-break on the Lakers side ensues; green jerseys struggling to keep up.

“Schroder tips the Celtics inbound and manages to pass it off to Thompson, to James! James with a hail mary from half-court with 2 seconds, will he make it!” The announcer exclaims.

It was like the movies when everything goes silent and somehow you see everything in slow motion. You watch as the ball spins high above in the air with the powerful throw from the Laker’s power forward. The only thing you feel is Jenna’s fist gripping your arm, bunching the jacket in her hands.

You unconsciously lean into her; the intensity of the room bouncing off you.

The ball continues to spin until it amazingly flies through the basket with a satisfying swoosh and the buzzer rings loudly.

The crowd explodes – bursting into loud cheers.

“Holy shit!” Jenna jumps, cheering.

“No fucking way.” You groan.

You feel her grab your shoulders to face her, still jumping up and down; a large smile on her face. You find yourself matching her grin despite your team not winning.

Nodding in defeat, you admit, “Okay, okay… that was a pretty great game.”

“Great?” She shakes you like a rag doll, “That was the best game I’ve ever seen!”

“Are you turning into a basketball fan, Miss Ortega?” You tease as she pulls away from you.

Still with a grin, she says, “Never… Football will always have my heart.”

“I didn’t peg you for an NFL fan but I guess I’ve heard stranger things.” You tease as she rolls her eyes.

“Soccer, Y/N.”

“Why didn’t you just call it the proper name then?”

“We are not starting this.” She holds a hand up, turning to sit back in her seat. The high of winning the bet, dwindling away.

●●●

“This is me…” Jenna says into the quiet night air.

You shifted on your feet as you stood by your car. The night had been an unexpected…. success. After the game, you two made sure to stick around to chat and take pictures with fans in the crowd.

The more eyes that saw you two together, the better.

“Um… this was nice, I guess.” You mumble, feeling a bit awkward now that it was just you and her.

She blinks up at you, surprised by your admission. “Uh – yeah, this wasn’t bad. Surprising, but not bad.”

A small smile creeps on your face, “Okay, well I guess I’ll see you later… or whenever our managers say we need to be seen together again.”

She laughs, nodding, “Yeah…”

A bright flash from your peripheral has you blinking, unfocused. “What the–”

“Paps…” She sighs. “Kiss my cheek.”

“What?” You asked bewildered.

She sends you a pointed look, turning her back from the direction of the flash so they couldn’t see her face. “Kiss my cheek, they’ll take a picture and then they’ll know we’re not just gal pals.”

Jenna is rolling her eyes but you’re still stuck in your spot. “Y/N.”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you clear your throat, “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Something indecipherable shines in her eyes, but it disappears as she blinks, “You’re not asking for my hand in marriage, Y/N. Just kiss my cheek.”

Blushing, you lean down. Shyly placing your lips on her soft-dimpled cheek – she leans into the contact, placing a hand on your neck. Immediately, a flurry of bright flashes and sounds of clicking interrupt the moment.

“Goodnight, Jenna.” You say softly once you pulled away; ignoring the goosebumps that rose on your skin.

“Goodnight.” She takes a moment to look at you before walking to unlock her gate.

You wait until she opens the metal door; not missing the kind eyes she shoots you as she shuts the gate. Only once Jenna’s out of your view did you let out a deep sigh, turning around.

“Y/N! Over here! Did you just kiss Jenna Ortega? What about the singer you were with in Vegas? Are you two over?”

You didn’t want to give the paparazzi lurking on her street more reason to stay, so you keep your head down ignoring their shouting and slip into your car.

●●●

“How was it?” Her sister’s voice can be heard on her phone.

“Awful – she’s a menace, Mia.” Jenna replies as she opens her fridge, looking for a mid-afternoon snack.

It was now Sunday afternoon and as predicted – you and Jenna are the top headline of every major news outlet in America.

“Did you tell her that you loved her in Little Women?”

“What? No, of course not! I’m not gonna tell her that.”

“Why not? You watched that movie like five times when it came out.” Her sister reminds.

“Shut up, Mia.”

“Okay, anyways…” She trails off, laughing. “I saw the pictures. You’re smiling pretty wide with her. Also the kiss on the cheek when she was dropping you off? Chef’s kiss. Just perfect.”

Jenna rolls her eyes, “It’s all part of the act. Of course, I look happy.”

“There’s videos of you jumping on her. I can barely scroll through my Twitter feed without seeing an edit of you two at the game.”

“Stop. I don’t want to talk about her anymore.” Jenna snaps.

“Okay, okay…” Mia laughs and Jenna can picture her raising her hands in surrender. “Let’s talk about New York, are you excited?’

Jenna lets out a repressed sigh. With all of this PR mess with you, she hasn’t had time to think about how busy her schedule is about to be. The Scream VI premiere and SNL is inching closer and the Coachella native is feeling the familiar phantoms of anxiety rumbling in her chest.

“Yeah, of course, I am. It’s SNL…”

“But?” Aliyah, her younger sister’s voice comes out of nowhere.

“But it’s SNL!” Jenna exclaims, “It’s a big deal! What if… what if I fuck up? Or I break character?”

“Okay… let’s take a deep breath,” Mia speaks up. She recognizes her sister’s looming anxiety and knew she had to act before the young actress sends herself into a panic. “You will kill it, like you always do and you won’t mess up. It’s okay to be a little nervous.

“Right, right.” Jenna agrees but the weighted pressure in her chest was still to creeping in.

Mia hums over the line unconvinced, “Listen, the whole family is flying in before your premiere. So don’t worry, we’ll be there, cheering you on!”

Jenna can’t fight the smile that creeps up on her face. The thought of her family being there on one of the most important nights of her career is all she needs. They always had her back, picking her up when she felt like she couldn’t do it anymore. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate that.”

●●●

“You want me to fly to New York, to what– be her personal cheerleader?” You dead-pan, watching as Link frantically throws clothes and shoes into a suitcase.

It’s been about a week since the Lakers and Celtics game and news of you and Jenna’s night out in town are still abuzz. The two of you made a couple more subtle appearances over the last couple of days and the media is eating it up shamelessly. Pictures of you and the star are plastered on the front pages; be it grabbing coffee or grocery shopping or walking your dog at the park.

Now, you couldn’t even step outside without someone hurling Jenna’s name at you.

But you couldn’t lie. It was nice to have some company while you run your errands. Only yours though — you hated when you had to do hers. Jenna always thought too hard about which cereal to get, like she’s ever home to eat it.

‘New budding romance in Hollywood? Do we have a new power couple on the rise with Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega? These two seem to be getting to know each other well… click here to read more’

Was the first thing you read when you turned on your phone this morning.

Of course, it’s never that easy because there are still a handful of nobodies sending hateful messages about your criminal escapades – not everyone was convinced.

Some well-known people on social media – people you personally know are adding fuel to the fire; engaging in discourses of you and Jenna and if you are dragging her down just by being associated with you.

Fake-ass motherfuckers.

“Yes, I think those are the exact words Jake and Liv put in their texts, actually.” He reaches for his phone to read over the message; mocking you.

“Stop, Link…” You run a hand on your face, “Tell them I’m not going. I have better things to do, Coachella is right around the corner and I literally have a song I need to send to my producer.”

He watches as you childishly cross your arms, scowling.

If you weren’t his best friend he would’ve said goodbye to the Hollywood life – too rich for his blood. Link wasn’t sure how he still put up with your attitude after all these years. Could you have said those words any more snobbishly?

“Are you done?”

“No.”

“Well you don’t have a damn choice. Now, take a shower – Marcus will be here in an hour to drive us to LAX. And you can record in New York, no one said you had to be attached to Jenna’s hip.”

“What if I don’t want to.” You stand your ground.

“Don’t do this today, Y/N.” He sighs.

For a few moments, you hold your ground; contemplating if you should dig a hole and barricade yourself – metaphorically, of course. But never say never.

Link raises a challenging brow – daring you to try him today.

Wow, someone must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed…

Knowing what that look meant, you knew when to pick your battles and accepted the loss, trudging over to the master bathroom but not before slamming the door behind you.

“Don’t be slamming doors ‘round here! I don’t care if the house is under your name.” He shouts from the other side.

“Fuck off!” You yell back, yanking your shirt off as the water turns hot.

He is such a dad.

–

“What are you doing here?”

“Hi to you too, Jenna. How was your day? Mine was great, the flight was a bit bumpy but I can handle a ‘lil turbulence. Thanks for asking.” You reply, ignoring the furrow in her brow hidden behind the silky fringe.

You wonder what conditioner she uses to get her hair looking that soft.

“Y/N…” Jenna sighs, walking past you to enter your hotel suite. Walking into the living room to place her shoulder bag on the coffee table then she turns to face you, crossing her arms still waiting for an answer. “I’m serious, why are you in New York.”

You lean against a wooden panel, crossing your arms as well. “Didn’t your team tell you?”

Her frown deepens, patience thinning the longer you beat around the bush. “Obviously not or I wouldn’t be here.”

“Okay relax…” You warn not appreciating her tone. You literally just landed an hour ago and it’s almost midnight East Coast time. The timezone switch is fucking with you and her attitude is the last thing you need.

“Don’t tell me to relax.” She snaps. The young actress hated those words, it always made her more riled up.

You scoff trying your hardest not to snap back but controlling your anger has never been your strong suit. “Why do you think I’m here? Liv told me I had to show face for your premiere and SNL episode. Be your cheerleader or some shit.”

She drops her arms, frown still etched on her soft face. What? Ignore that.

“Shit, I think Sarah might’ve mentioned it but I was just so busy with rehearsal and fittings with Enrique that I didn’t see.” Jenna sighs, rubbing her forehead.

For the first time since she barged into your room – you take a moment to scan her. Her face is bare and makeup free but you can see the dark smudges from her eyeliner earlier today just under the lashline. She was dressed in a large sweater and mismatched sweatpants; the sleeves are so long it covers half her hands and her short wavy locks tied into a messy low bun.

Her clothes practically engulfed her tiny stature. You figure this is a pretty rare sight that most people aren’t privy to and suddenly you’re unsure as to why it’s so hard to look away.

“I didn’t mean to snap… I’m sorry.” She says quietly, looking at you like she was genuinely apologetic.

“It’s fine…” You shrug and pushed off the wall to sit on the couch. Everyone has their days, you thought.

“I didn’t mean to ambush you. I really thought you knew I’d be here.” You turn on the TV, not being to stand the silence in the large room.

Jenna sits down beside you, tucking her feet against her chest. When did she take off her shoes? “It’s not your fault.”

The sigh she lets out is heavy and something tells you there’s some meaning behind it too. But you didn’t feel like it was your business so you zip it and continue watching the TV drone on about a program you don’t care about.

“I saw clips of your SNL promo… I thought it was hilarious – you were great and that reporter outfit? So cool.” You change the subject. It gets her to smile as her dimples poke out, a little shy now.

“It’s so cringy.” She covers her face.

“Awh, nah… the internet loved it.” You laugh, a little amused that the actress was all flushed by a single compliment.

Call it big-headed, call it ego, call it whatever you want but you personally relished it when people fawned over you.

“Of course they did. They’re the whole reason for the meme.” She rolls her eyes after dropping her hands but she still had a toothy smile.

“I bet that dance follows you everywhere…”

“Every. Fucking. Day.” She says then raises a brow at you, “How do you know about the dance, though?’

You send her an affronted look, “I’m not a grandmother, Jenna. I know what’s hip with the kids.”

She snorts, “You’re an idiot – I just mean, I didn’t think you were on TikTok like that with a schedule like yours. Also, that app is toxic.”

“Every social media app can be toxic.” You quip, “But get off your high horse, your majesty. I literally just saw a couple of edits on Twitter of it.”

“Uh huh…” She hums, unconvinced, if the side glance she throws you was any indication. “But yeah the writers wanted to do a bit with Wednesday and this is what we came up with.”

“Well, I think it’s genius… from a business standpoint.” You offer up, nudging her shoulder then turning back to the TV.

You miss Jenna’s bothered frown. “Business standpoint?”

“Yeah,” You say off-handedly, “It’s smart, good for you.”

“Are most things a ‘business standpoint’ for you?” She asks, genuinely curious about what you could mean.

“Hmm. I guess I never thought of it like that but now that I’m saying it out loud, yeah, kinda.” You shrug, thinking about it.

Most of the interactions in Hollywood that you have had are based on transactions and is usually for your own self-interest.

“...That’s kinda sad.” She says getting you to turn.

“What does that mean?” You frown.

“I’m just saying… there’s more to this industry than business deals and brand offers.” This time Jenna offers up a thought but it sounds a bit judgemental to you, shrugging.

You’re furrowing your brows, sitting up straight. “Look, you don’t even know me. Just forget what I said.”

But the laugh she lets out grinds your gears in the most unpleasant way.

Jenna holds up her hands in surrender but it feels mocking. “Clearly…” She emphasizes. “But I’m just saying, there’s no need to get all defensive.”

“Okay, I don’t know what kind of shit you were dealing with today but don’t take it out on me. Don’t come to my room talking about things you know nothing about.” You glower.

She matches your frown, standing. “It kinda sounds like you’re the one dealing with something, actually.”

“I think you should leave.” Your glare turns sharp and cold, standing too.

“Already on my way out.” She scoffed, snatching her bag aggressively off the coffee table then turns to walk to the front door.

You follow to make sure the door hits her on the way out but she stops abruptly by the hall causing you to trip on your own feet to not tumble over her.

“I think you should go back to L.A.” She glares up at you, tightly clutching her shoulder bag.

The laugh you let out is humourless, stepping back to create space between you and the other actress. “And get my ass handed to me by Jake, Liv and Sarah? They’re like four horsemen of the apocalypse – just searching for their last member. No thanks. You got a problem with me here? You deal with it.”

She clenches her jaw, “Done. Leave it to me.” Then turns and leaves making sure to slam the door shut.

Those hotel doors weigh a fuck ton, how did she do that? And what did she mean leave it to me?

“Can I come out now?” Link peeks his head out from the adjoining room; fear present on his features.

●●●

tagging who comment so far:

@alexkolax @ladey @jjsmaybank20 @werewoofrobinbuckley

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega #wednesday netflix #legally binded

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witchthewriter · 1 year

Photo

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

SFW🌿

・Will is a caring and gentle partner. He’s quite emotionally open and doesn’t mind discussing his feelings

・The first time you met, there was a ringing of steel on steel. The clash of swords; a battle neither would win.

・As the captain of the Flying Dutchman, Will had found your ship, with its healthy and vital crew

・Your coffers were full, and your crew was never hungry

・As the enemy ship sailed towards your own, your curiosity won over your logic

・What’s the point in being immortal if you can’t have a little fun?

・So when the fighting broke out, you soon realised who you were dealing with. Davy Jones had been slain, but in his place stood a handsome young man.

・Both you and Will agreed to stay out of each other’s way, but destiny wouldn’t let you part

・It wasn’t difficult, to let your feelings take over. Both you and Will had a fascination with each other, one that ran deep

・Both of you wanted to be a captain and sail your own ship. The pirate life wasn’t one that was easy to give up

・That freedom is intoxicating.

・But destiny was always on your side

・Because you found an old relic that gave you the power to find Will, no matter how far he sails

・Will does get jealous easily though, and when he first met you, he was certain that your quartermaster was your lover. But Killian was a loyal friend, and only a friend

・You knew about Captain Jack Sparrow, but never got the chance to actually meet him. Something told you that wherever Jack went, trouble followed...so you followed him

・Will told you to steer clear of the dread-locked fiend, but you wanted something of his. A certain compass.

・What Will loves most about you, is your hot head and wild nature. Although it can be difficult at times, he would never make you dull that part of yourself

・You keep him on his toes, and he wouldn’t want it any other way

・Whenever you’re together, Will likes to surprise you with artefacts (since you can get any jewel you wish - you can never die. No matter the injury.)

・You like playing with Will’s hair, it’s actually quite curly

・He likes when you hum, and you do it a lot. It’s always absent-mindedly, because you’d be mortified if Will heard you sing (although when you get to the drink, you don’t care whose listening)

・Your crew mates start to feel comfortable around Will’s. There’s even moments of family members reuniting

・You take good care of your crew - since you hand pick them yourself

・You’ve sailed nearly everywhere, and experienced everything. Some things you wish you could forget, but others that you know are otherwordly

・You’ve saved mermaids

・Slayed British soldiers, who try to rid the world of pirates

・You’ve even been nominated to be pirate king a few times (but you never turned up to the meetings)

・You’re a legend, a myth, a reality

・Some people think that if they capture you, they’ll be able to take your eternal youth

・So you can never be in one place for too long

・Anyone that’s around you will become younger - the time in their life when they felt like their best self

・But this doesn’t work on Will ... it was one of the reasons why he was so peculiar to you

・Like destiny had played a nasty trick on the both of you

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

Your Favourite Colour Is Green by James Newton Howard

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

✧ Rivals to Friends to Lovers

✧ Opposites Attract

✧ “Shut Up” x “Make Me”

NSFW🔞minors dni!

・Consent King™ always asks if what he’s doing is okay, asks if he can kiss you, etc.

・Favourite place to have sex is on the beach. The hot sun beating down on you, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. It makes an ethereal atmosphere.

・Always makes sure you’ve orgasmed before he does

・Can go for multiple rounds, without tiring

・He’s swept up in the heat of the moment, and doesn’t think about whether he’s being light-hearted or sensual

・Will is like a whirlwind when he’s turned on. Grabbing at your clothes and tearing them off, kissing every inch of bare skin he can find

・His favourite position is missionary, with your legs wrapped around his waist

・Leaves hickies on your body without realising it

・Loves when you wear your captain’s hat and ... only your captain’s hat.

#will turner #will turner headcanons #will turner x reader #pirates of the caribbean #pirates of the caribbean headcanons #potc #potc headcanons #potc fanfiction #pirate #will turner x pirate reader #the black pearl #yo ho yo ho a pirate's life for me #witchthewriter #dating would include #would include #headcanons

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jordisblogg · 9 months

Text

producer!shuri x singer!reader hcs

📝: i’ve been thinking about producer!shuri a lil too muchhh.

the whole producer!shuri idea is from @/venusdraco (who’s unfortunately deactivated but ima still give credit!!)

⁀➷

meeting:

✰. -you were sitting on the phone with one of your friends, tems, specifically, ranting on about how you need to find a good beat before the deadline for your new single. you've tried going to london, metro boomin, drumma boy, he'll you even tried to make one yourself, but you couldn't find the right sound you were looking for.

“you know, i've got this friend who's done some of the beats on my songs, she's really good. she’s known for her afro beats but i’m sure she could help you out. i could give you her contact if you want."

you rubbed your temples, 'i’m up for anything at this point.”

✰. you had texted her later on

“hey i'm tems' friend, y/n, idk if she told u about me, but i rily need help and she told me to come to u"

“yeah she told me.i can hook you up, when are you free?”

✰. you both scheduled a date that would work for the two of you and you crossed your fingers and your toes that this would be it, that she was the one who could help you.

✰. you woke up bright and early the day of and got ready, not wanting to keep shuri waiting. when you walked in the studio she was sitting in one of the chairs by the sound booth, man spread, hair freshly curled with a pair of shades perched on top of them, wearing a black nike tech, gold chains adorning her neck. she looked good, really good.

✰. her head perked up and she turned to you, “hey, you ready to get started?”

✰.it had been a good 10-15 minutes and you think you both were getting somewhere. but you could hardly focus. shuri’s cologne was getting all up in your nose, she smelled intoxicating.

✰. and the way her tattooed fingers turned the knobs on the booth to how she nodded her head softly to the beat. and her jawline?? don’t even get me started—

“here, listen to this” you hadn’t even realized you just spaced out on her. you watched her put her headphones over your ears.

you stared into space as the low beat played. it was melodic, soft.

once it ended you took the headphones off and set them in your lap. “well?”

you smiled, “i love it.”

✰. your single ended up being nominated and won an billboard music award. you couldn’t have been happier. (song is at the top)

✰.once the event was over and you collected your flowers you took your ride back to your luxury apartment.

just as you were placing your award on a shelf, (you still needed somewhere to put it) you got a notification. you pulled your phone out, a text from shuri.

‘congratulations, beautiful, you earned it.🎉’

you smiled, hard. you feel like you wouldn’t have gotten this award if it weren’t for shuri. you needed to repay her somehow.

and beautiful???

‘thank u so so much, shuri. i couldn’t have done this without you. how can i ever repay u’

‘let me take you out to dinner’

dating:

✰. even though you have more than enough money to take care of yourself, shuri still spends on you.

you could be on the phone telling her the new fendi bag you’re gonna buy and then the next morning you see a cash-app of 3500 with the caption ‘just because❤️’ but you knew why.

✰.she’s always going to give you princess treatment.

anywhere you wanna go, she takes you. anything you want, she gets you. money is no problem for her. (shawty bae already a queen, producing just adding to that)

✰. when she has to fly out for sessions/bookings, she always takes you with her.it helps make the trip bearable even if she’s cool with the client.

✰. she always sends you big bouquets of roses once out the week (she would send you more but the last time she did, you told her you didn’t have anywhere to put the others)

✰. you both are regularly in the studio, so you don’t really have a whole lot of time with each other. but when she finally gets to see you, she can never let you go.

following up on that, shuri’s very clingy and overprotective of you, not that you don’t mind, mainly cause your the same way. when you’re both at events, she doesn’t do a lot of mingling, even when the other artists try to talk to her, she’ll talk to them, still being right next to you.

✰. a few days after you two started dating, you were both chilling up in a club and you both got a little caught up in each other and the alcohol. the next morning you had woke up to a bunch of notifications on instagram and tiktok. everyone knew about your relationship. and for once, theshaderoom wasn't wrong about something.

you scrolled thru all the comments, some good, some bad.

"well, at least all those other bitches know who i belong to" she says as she lazily wraps her arms around your waist.

✰. likes to put your voicemail’s or just your voice in general on some of her tracks.

✰. your each other's plus one to every event, whether your nominated or not. you both always try to match for the red carpet, whether that be jewelry or clothes.

✰. shuri had originally been in wakanda playing with beats with her cousin, erik, who had taught her a few tricks. and after the death of her brother and mother she moved down to the states to get away from pressure, but she still devotes most of her life to her technology.

✰. she loves to take pictures of her baby, most of her camera roll is of either you or pics or you and her, either way you’re in them.

in fact her lock screen is literally a picture of you asleep on her chest, bonnet half on and drool seeping from your lips.

“shuri change that right now!”

“but you look so cute!”

✰. she goes to all of your concerts. and when your up on stage, you make sure to point her out. and when you both do a collab you bring her on stage and the fans eat it up every time.

✰. her nicknames for you are most definitely baby, my love, mama, princess etc.

✰. your contact in her phone is ‘umfazi’ (wife) because she knows you’re the one she’s going to marry.

✰. most of your songs are about times you’ve spent with her.

✰. shuri told you about her first time hearing your voice. she was hanging out with her friends for the night and they had bought tickets to your show, shuri wasn’t aware of who you were at the time, mainly because you were still coming up.

when she had saw you up on stage, it was like the world had stopped moving. your voice was so angelic, she felt like she was in a trance. and god you were gorgeous. you still are.

“i knew then that you were destined for greatness.”

“how come you never came up to me?”

“time wasn’t right, but i ended up bagging you in the end”

“oh shut up”

✰. it’s a known fact, shuri smokes weed. when she got together she wanted to make sure you were okay with it or not. when you told her that you partook in it, you were now her designated smoking buddy.

bongs, pens, smokes, edibles. it didn’t matter.

✰. shuri’s told you once before that even though you do it for show, she does get a little jealous when you bring other girls up on stage and get a little too touchy for her liking.

but you always tell her that she’s the only one for you. you’ve even had to explain that to her press.

“so y/n, we’ve seen that during your shows you’ve constantly brought up girls on stage with you. how does your girlfriend, shuri, think about this? have you had any conversations about it?”

“one, my girlfriend has already told me her thoughts on the matter and yes we’ve had conversations about it, two, i bring up my audience to give them a chance to feel like they’re really apart of the show y’know?”

✰. during interviews, shuri can’t help but smile at the mention of you. i mean full on cheesing!

“we’ve noticed you and y/n have been getting pretty serious, taking her out on private flights, fancy dinners, take it things must be goin smoothly, yeah?”

the corner of her mouth turns up in a smirk, “yeah, i always give my princess what she asks for”

✰. she doesn’t like to argue with you because the second she sees a tear role down your cheek, your lip quiver, or hears a tremble in your voice, she’s crumbling, scooping you up in her arms and rocking you back and forth, repeatedly kissing your temple and chanting apologies in your skin.

“i’m sorry baby, i’m sorry. please forgive me”

✰. she teaches you xhosa every time you ask. she giggles at how you pronounce the words, putting clicks at the wrong time.

“shuri stop laughing!”

“haha.. i’m sorry mama, cmon i’ll help you”

✰. will always do your nightly with you. she won’t tell you, but she secretly loves doing face masks.

✰. that girl stays in sweats, don’t matter what type of weather. winter? sweat suit. summer? t-shirt and sweat SHORTS.

“shuri come on wear some jeans with me, we supposed to be matching!”

“we are! your jeans are blue and my sweatpants are blue”

“ouu— you piss me off”

“kodwa uyayithanda” (but you love it)

✰. ever since that first meeting, you barely go to anyone else for your beats, unless necessary, in your opinion shuri knew how to do your genre of music, and pretty well, so there was no point in going to anyone else.

(plus it’s free.99)

✰. your facetime calls range from 5-24 hours. mainly because y’all don’t know how to say bye to each other.

“i love you baby, get some rest”

“i love you more”

“oh did you hear about that guy who was at drake’s concert?”

“no? tell me!”

bonus:

just because you’re constantly going to shuri to help with your music don’t mean y’all don’t have any complications.

“nooo— im talkin’ ‘bout dum dum doo duh”

“that’s what i just did??”

“no you did dun boom dun dun”

“what??”

“SHURI OH MY GOSH”

“STOP SCREAMING AT ME”

#shuri udaku #shuri x reader #shuri x y/n #mcu shuri #shuri x black! fem! reader #bpwf #shuri fic #shuri #jj’s fics

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blainesebastian · 2 years

Text

got a lot of enemies

words: 3,451 ship: austin butler x reader summary: the most lovely @kibumslatina requested: enemies to lovers au notes: if you’d like to be added to a general taglist, please let me know! thanks for reading :) masterlist on my sidebar warnings: NSFW tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff

You learned in an early piece of your career that being a part of Hollywood meant it came with drama. Just was an automatic understanding, acceptance, a thought in the back of your mind that you were going to be dragged into things, rumors, click-bait, scenes, Buzzfeed articles that aren’t even really about you but things that transpire in the orbit of your existence. You kinda pride yourself in not getting involved in any messes—it’s nice to be nice, you don’t cause unnecessary mayhem or chaos. Some celebrities like getting their news that way, they like to be relevant through PR stunts and dramatized arguments or situations.

The thing is, as soon as you think the media is on your side? They’ll turn just as quick and swallow you whole.

You’ve got zero interest in that.

Maybe it’s why it’s so amusing to you to read that you’ve apparently got beef with Austin Butler.

Like you almost take a sip of your coffee and spit it out when you glaze over the articles and Instagram posts. It’s funny, really, because you’re pretty sure you’ve interacted with him a grand total of three times (now granted, all three of those times have been utter disasters) but it’s not like either of you have some sort of vendetta. You just…tend to avoid one another’s circles.

You don’t hate him or anything—he’s fucking annoying, but then again most attractive people are.

The first time you met one another he literally ran into you, spilling a drink down the front of your dress. There were apologies? Kinda, he was clearly a bit intoxicated and of course it was an award event, and you had to deal with red wine on a soft pink dress and refusing to go all the way home and change or find an alternative solution. Your outfit looked like some sort of warped walking murder scene and then to top matters off, you didn’t even win in the category you were nominated for.

The second had to do with Austin’s date rather than him. Granted, at the time you got into it with her, you hadn’t realized she was there with Austin though you suppose that wouldn’t have made a difference. It wasn’t his girlfriend; he had just brought her as a plus-one to the event. In that instance you hadn’t known who she was, nor had you cared because she was being incredibly rude to the wait staff at this event—being difficult, you concluded, because she could be.

“You don’t need to talk to people like that,” You had said, to which she replied back that she could, “Talk to the help however she wanted.”

Regardless of how much you attempted to stay out of drama, events like this seem to feed off it with so many celebrities in one place. You remember that you could feel people around you watching as the argument got a bit louder because…you didn’t care who this girl was or where she came from, who she was there with.

The people who help make these events so seamless and perfect for everyone deserve to be treated with respect. Period.

Austin came in mid-argument, unsure of what was going on or what the conversation was even about, but he blindly defended his date because that’s the type of person he is—trusting, loyal. At one point you’re pretty sure you told him to ‘mind his own fucking business’. Not exactly your finest moment.

The last time you saw him, you both were at a fashion show, lingering by the coat check. Austin was blissfully free of a date and even apologized for the last time you got into it because of her—he hadn’t realized the situation at hand when he got involved. And the thing is, you know before the words even leave your mouth that you shouldn’t have said anything, but it’s already too late,

“Just so you know for next time? You don’t automatically have to jump to defend her just because she’s your girlfriend.”

Austin kind of bristles, standing up straighter to a fuller height. It drives under your skin that it feels like he’s looking down at you, “She wasn’t my girlfriend, but even if she had been? That’s…isn’t that kinda the whole point if you’re seein’ someone? You’re on their side?”

Your whole face scrunches up, “No, not automatically, not always—and besides, thought you said she wasn’t your girlfriend.”

“She’s not—” Austin takes in a soft breath, letting it out mostly through his nose. There’s this patient intake like he’s really considering his words, “I’m just tryin’ to make a point.”

The edges of your mouth tug into a smile because he’s really not and you have no idea why, at this point, it’s tempting to push his buttons but that’s exactly what you end up doing, “You’re not doin’ a very good job at that.”

“You single by chance?” He asks, as if that’s the reason you don’t understand what he’s trying to argue. He purses his lips and doesn’t wait for you to reply. “Can’t imagine why.”

Now you outright laugh even though he brushes against a nerve, “You’re just mad because I’m right.”

He shakes his head, grabbing his coat when the woman behind the counter hands it to him. “I’m annoyed,” And yet even as he says it, there’s something playing in the depths of his blue eyes, another emotion…amusement, maybe? It’s hard to tell. “You know you got that effect on people?”

You smile a little, humming, “It’s one of my best qualities.”

Austin scoffs, pulling his jacket on with a soft headshake, fixing the collar, “Right well—I’ll be seein’ you.”

“Hopefully not too soon.”

And then he does something interesting, he smiles, as if that amusement you thought you saw in his eyes finally breaks free on his face. He hums, nodding, before turning to leave. You’re not quite sure why your gaze follows him on his way out, tracing the long lines of his body.

(Or rather, you know exactly why.)

Regardless, it’s entertaining to you that anyone would think you’re in an outright fight with him, just because the three times you’ve been in the same room haven’t exactly been stellar. Shaking your head, you set your phone down as your friend of ten years sits down across from you at this bistro you’re at, one of the best places for a sandwich and iced coffee.

Ada gives you a grin, leaning onto the table with her elbows—and you already know that look in her eyes, she wants to spill tea. “What’s with the banter between you and Austin Butler?”

You groan, your head tipping back slightly because you actually thought she had something good to gossip about. But it seems like she’s seen the same kind of articles, browsed the same social media posts,

“Girl c’mon.”

“You c’mon,” She laughs, leaning back in her chair, “It’s all over the interwebs.”

“So naturally it must be true,” You state dryly before shaking your head, “Nothin’ is goin’ on, there’s no banter. We’ve barely spoken to one another.”

Ada smiles, ordering an iced coffee and club sandwich from the waiter when he wanders over. Once he’s gone, she steals your coffee for a sip, “Yeah but when you do? There’s definitely sparks.”

“Yeah from a dumpster fire.” You mumble and she laughs, nudging your leg under the table.

She’s quiet for a few moments, which just tells you she’s up to no good, pondering something that you already know is going to annoy you. You can tell without having to ask too many questions that she’s wandering down a line of commentary that makes your stomach flip flop when thinking about it too much.

After all, there’s a very fine line between…

“Quickest way to put out a fire is to uh…you know, exhaust it. Burn it fast and hot?”

You raise your eyebrows, “You did not just say that with a straight face.”

She grins, “You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about.”

A soft laugh settles in your chest, almost shakes your ribcage, “Ada—pretty sure to get rid of a fire? You just suffocate it—snuff it out?”

“God, come on.” Ada playfully smacks the table to get your attention, waggling her eyebrows in a way that you can’t help but snort. This is…beyond ridiculous. “You know what I’m talkin’ about. All this heat from conversations and unresolved tensions?” You’re really not sure you’d go that far but, “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

You hadn’t…except now you can’t stop thinking about it.

“I’m not about to jump into it with Austin Butler.” And even as it comes out of your mouth it sounds like a lie.

This is exactly the kind of situation you've been trying to avoid—drama. There’s been a handful of minor disagreements, a few exchanges of barbed wire wrapped in silk as words left both of your mouths. You probably won’t even see him again anyways and even if you did? There’s no reason why it’d be the same kind of conversation. Right?

Ada hums as her food and coffee are delivered, picking up the cup to being sipping from the straw. “Too bad—there’s a lot of better things he could be doing with that mouth.”

It’s a chilly night but your favorite kind of go-to for a friend’s house party. This is a part of Hollywood that you don’t think you’ll ever get sick of—turning up at a lavish home tucked away in the hills, drinking a bit too much, dancing, doing things you might not do without the pink hazy cloud of too many free drinks. It’s fun and exactly what you need to take your mind off everything that’s been spinning in your mind lately.

A movie deal, a photoshoot, Austin, your family, your agent…Austin…

Shaking your head as you grab another drink, you turn in the large dining room that has a tall ceiling and too much of a cream color scheme for your taste and mingle. You feel like you stick out in the maroon mini skirt that you’ve got on, paired with a black loose sweater. Comfortable but you already know it was a bad choice, you’re warm with the bodies packed in, with the alcohol swimming in your veins. It’ll probably come off later, just walking around your friend’s place in a black bralette.

Could be worse.

You get roped into playing a round of darts near the pool house with a few familiar faces, Roger, Jensen and Melissa—you’ve seen them around similar circles, other soirees, other events, award after parties, anywhere that has excess, booze and loud music. But they’re definitely not the worse group you’ve ever spent time with, especially now with something as simple as tossing darts. You’re pretty good at it, smiling as you hit another bullseye and playfully bow towards everyone else.

“You gotta be cheating somehow,” Roger says, going to collect the darts. “No way you’re that good drunk.”

“I’m tipsy, excuse you,” You laugh and run a hand through your hair to get it out of your face, “And maybe you just suck.”

The group laughs and Roger rolls his eyes, still mumbling about how this must be unfair somehow—clearly a sore loser.

“Hey if you wanna put your money where your mouth is, I’ll play another round.” You throw out there, waiting for him to either fuck up and play another losing round or shut up with the whining. Your hand falls to your hip as you take another sip of your drink,

“Y/N thinks she always has to have the last word,” A voice says from behind and you don’t even have to turn to know who it is. Taking a small breath, you roll your eyes as you shift to see Austin of all fucking people. “Don’t take it personally,” He continues, still talking to Rog.

You scoff, don’t take it personally? “Even though you seem to?”

He smiles a little, taking a sip out of his beer and you really try not to sweep your gaze over his form but fail miserably. He’s wearing this denim on denim look which shouldn’t be attractive on anyone except it is. He’s got a thin frame but he’s toned, so he fills out the jeans perfectly, highlighting his long legs, and there’s a bit of muscle to his biceps because you can see the flex in the fabric of his shirt.

Just…utterly ridiculous.

Roger, Jensen and Melissa move on to other things, other conversations, other parts of the room, seemingly letting you and Austin continue this exchange because—well, hasn’t anyone heard? According to the click-bait titles out there, Austin Butler is somehow one of your celebrity enemies.

“I’d ask you to play a round but seems like you’re too busy checkin’ me out.”

Your body has no idea how to react because your eyes widen at the same time a scoff tumbles out of your mouth…but your cheeks kiss pink, the same color splotching behind your neck. Hopefully the room is too dim lit to really see. Jesus.

“You…are so full of yourself,” You laugh, shaking your head, “You fucking wish.” And then, because you’re especially wound up, “Also? I do not always need to have the last word.”

Austin raises his eyebrows, amused, pursing his lips as he nods. “Fine.”

“Fine.” You reply back almost instantly to which Austin laughs against the rim of his beer bottle, proving his point.

You narrow your eyes at him, shaking your head but a smile is beginning to pull at the edges of your mouth, even as that same blush becomes hotter on your cheeks. Annoying.

“Don’t you have better things to do at this party than aggravate me?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “You givin’ suggestions?”

Shaking your head, you move towards a small bar set up alongside the pool house to get yourself another drink, “You know, this whole leftover Elvis charm thing that people find particularly disarming isn’t going to work on me.”

Austin hums, moving to grab himself another beer in the cooler, “I’ve got no idea what you’re talkin’ about.”

Snorting out a laugh, you pour a bit more vodka into your next drink than strictly necessary, “Right.”

He turns a bit to lean against the counter and even though you’re not looking directly at him, you can somehow feel his gaze sweep over you, lingering along the curves of your form, your hips, your waist. You take in a slow breath to quell the heat that wants to build in the center of your body,

“If I wanted to disarm you, I wouldn’t need the so-called Elvis charm.”

It takes you a moment to realize that the pool house has emptied out, that it’s just you and Austin, other people moving on to better and more comfortable places in the main house. Or even the pool, directly outside, covered by shades on the windows. You can see the soft cyan glow from the lights in the water and shadows of people, conversations, but that’s it.

The room feels small now that you and Austin are the only ones occupying it, hovering in that countered space where the drinks are.

A soft laugh flutters out of your lungs as you turn to face him, taking a sip of your too-strong drink, “Now you’re just makin’ shit up,” Which sounds a lot like prove it.

Austin puts his beer down, standing to his full height. You watch him do this, his movements so smooth, calculated and measured. He knows exactly what he’s doing. You take a step back, bumping into the counter and he slowly lifts his arms to create a cage around your body, pinning you in place. You’re overwhelmed by his body heat, the scent of his cologne, skin, and a sensible part of you wants to push him away while another screams to pull him closer.

Your brain sort of restarts, pushing words out of your mouth, “Is this supposed to be working on me?”

Austin smiles a little, shaking his head, “Always got to have the last word, hmm?” And then he leans down and kisses you.

It’s not that you’re overwhelmed by the action itself, exactly, but your reaction to it. This explosion of heat between your legs, the urge to wrap yourself completely around him, to kiss back, to nip at his lower lip with your teeth. These conflicting emotions make you pull back, drawing the palm of your hand against his face in a quick slap.

He scoffs out a laugh, touching his face, though he doesn’t get a word out in response because you’re leaning forward and kissing him with much more vigor and insistence than before. To Austin’s credit, he doesn’t say a damn thing, instead he cups both sides of your face and kisses back. There are fluid movements in which he lifts you up and places you on the counter, slipping between your legs, continuing to kiss as his hands rake through your hair.

So many thoughts that are whirling in your head suddenly come to halt, dissipate, flutter to the floor of your subconscious. The only things that matter right now are Austin’s hands and his mouth and what he intends to do with both of them. The counter is somehow low enough that he’s able to push you back on it, things clattering to the floor. Glass breaks, plastic crunches, and a soft laugh leaves you, vibrating along Austin’s lips because this is so ridiculous yet neither of you stop.

There’s this whisper of a thrill that seeps through your veins like honey—the fact that you’re in a public place in someone else’s home, that you could be caught that anyone who wanders into the pool house, that it’s kinda quick and dirty and needy and that you can’t stop kissing him.

As one of his hands slips underneath your sweater, cupping your bralette, thumb swiping along the lace, you moan against his lips. His other hand clasps your neck, tipping your chin, his lips finding your skin and pulse point. Your own hands reach down, attempt to unbutton his jeans, fumbling with the fabric, needing skin to skin contact almost desperately.

Austin follows your lead, hikes up your skirt, your lips joining again as his hand slips into your panties, parting flesh, touching slick heat. You tip your head back, trying to quiet yourself because the last thing you want is this to end too soon because someone hears you.

His one arm slides behind your back, drawing you up into his chest as he shifts forward and teases at your center with just the tip, his lips brushing over yours,

“We don’t have time for that,” There’s definitely annoyance in your voice at that, and a soft chuckle rumbles in Austin’s chest before he keens his hips forward.

Movement is quick after that, patterned thrusts, both bodies giving into the other, reaching climaxes far too fast. You press your face into his neck, breathing him in afterwards, his arms keeping you close. It’s not something that can be maintained though, eventually you both have to pull away. There’s an emptiness inside of you once he cleans himself up, buttons his jeans back.

He runs his hands through his dirty blonde curls, watching as you straighten your skirt and slide off the counter. Clearing your throat, the sweat drying on your skin, you shake your head,

“Hope you enjoyed that because it’s never happenin’ again.”

Austin snorts out a laugh, reaching for his drink that managed to stay on the counter without getting knocked off, “Wouldn’t dream of it. Think we can agree that our banter is settled for now, no need to drag anythin’ out.”

“Definitely—no need to speak to one another at all, actually,” You purse your lips, “Won’t even say ‘hello’ to you at the next function we’re at together.”

He smirks, moving to play with a strand of hair near your cheek before tucking it behind your ear, “Always getting the last word in, right Y/N?”

You hum in confirmation, allowing him to lean down and press a kiss to the corner of your mouth before he pulls away. You pick up your drink from the other counter, taking a slow sip as you watch him walk out of the pool house.

That interaction alone was meant to put out fires, turn the flames into a dying cinder. And yet, you still feel embers burning behind your ribs, left behind by Austin’s touch.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler drabble #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things

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weclassybouquetfun · 2 months

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Killer Clown, fanatical husband, avenging angel times two, well-dressed prick.

When is Bill Skarsgård going to come into his romantic lead era like he did in an episode (titled "Layover") of AMC+'s SOULMATES?

-His costar in the episode is Nathan Stewart-Jarrett (late of HBO Max's GENERATION+, CANDYMAN, ANGELS IN AMERCA and MISFITS). Those in the U.S. will be able to see Stewart-Jarrett this week in the eleven times BIFA nominated film FEMME.

Stewart-Jarrett and his costar George Mackey (CAPTAIN FANTASTIC, 1917) were the sole winners for the film, sharing the award for Best Joint Lead Performance.

A well worthy win.

The film- originally a short starring Paapa Essiedu (GANGS OF LONDON) and Harris Dickinson (TRIANGLE OF SADNESS),

takes a big departure from the short and was reconfigured into an intoxication, nail biting tale of revenge.

#bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard #nathan stewart jarrett #femme #george mackay #the crow #boy kills world #movies #lgbtq #mlm

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imasinnerimsorry · 1 year

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Congratulations, Rockstar

Harry and his missus Latoya attend a Brits afterparty. But, Harry gets a little too drunk and Latoya pays the price.

Warnings: SMUT, hot grinding session, spanking, hair pulling, spitting, inebriation & drinking, choking, public sex

“CHEEEERS!”, Harry yelled as he clinked his glass with everyone at the table. Latoya, his girlfriend, watched as he downed another glass of tequila alongside his friends. Although she did drink, she didn’t want to get completely wasted; someone had to be the responsible one here.

She and Harry were at the Brits’ afterparty, along with some of their friends to congratulate Harry on his big win. 4 awards won out of 4 nominations?! Everyone was more than proud of H, especially Latoya.

But she knew how Harry was at the Brits- an absolute mess. He would take two shots of any drink they offered even before the first award would be announced. He had the most fun at that award show more than any other one. The environment was familiar with like-minded people, so he always felt like he could get loose there. It was endearing to Latoya, albeit a LOT of work to take care of since he would be absolutely needy once they got home, as well as during his hangover the next morning.

Harry was also really touchy-feely when drunk. Over the years, he used to hug, hold, embrace, and even kiss everyone around him whenever he was drunk. But when he started to date Latoya, he transferred all of those drunken embraces onto her. She didn’t mind, she was used to it, and honestly acted similarly whenever she was high.

Latoya watched her man and everyone else around the table chat about the most random topics in their drunken states. She would hop in on the conversation whenever she wanted, but this was Harry’s night and she didn’t want to intrude on the time he was spending with his friends & his peers in the music industry.

Suddenly, a slow Afrobeats song started to play, and all of the couples and affectionate friends started to dance together, some even grinding against each other. The atmosphere was definitely different now.

And Harry want to join in.

He paused mid-conversation and got up from his chair to tap onto Latoya’s shoulder, and she followed right behind him to the dancefloor.

Harry grabbed Latoya by the waist from behind and started to dance with her, not yet putting his body against hers. He wanted to feel her energy before he made the next move.

Latoya jumped a bit at the feeling of his hands holding her hips, but quickly calmed at the reassuring squeeze he gave her. She rested her head between his neck and his shoulder, his cologne becoming more prominent to her senses with the closeness.

They moved in rhythm to the beat. Harry inched closer to her, his body now caressing hers. He could feel everything in that moment: the sequins of her little black dress, the warmth of her skin, the love they shared. He was intoxicated by the scent of her perfume, a warm vanilla with a hint of spice, and he loved how it synchronized with the scent of his own tobacco vanilla cologne.

Latoya loved this feeling. Being embraced by the one she loved. She was a really shy person, and in normal circumstances she would have probably felt shy to dance with him in public. But tonight she tried to put that in the back of her mind. She was proud of her man and wanted to be with him, no matter who was watching. It was her own sort of congratulatory gesture in a way.

Suddenly, she started to feel all of him. His crotch was getting stiff against her ass as he continued to grind against her.

“Okay, baby, you’re doing too much now...” Her voice trembled a bit, not out of fear of him and his actions, but out of the possibility of their heated grinding session being caught by wandering eyes. Despite hearing her, Harry inched closer, his lips now inches away from the underside of her ear. Latoya whispered, “Not in front of all of these people, hon’.”

He chuckled, but obeyed her words by ceasing contact with her, making it minimal. But that couldn’t stop the bulge in his pants from getting bigger. And it couldn’t stop his temptations from growing hungrier.

Latoya’s desires were increasing as well which Harry could tell by her slow exhales and the way her body moved to the music.

Harry had a plan with how to satisfy their needs. He tugged on her arm and looked into her eyes, quickly glancing over to the bathroom with a slight smirk on his face. Latoya knew this was code for “We’re doing it in the bathroom,” to which she obliged by following him into there.

After making sure to lock the bathroom door behind him, Harry quickly started their rendezvous with lifting his mistress onto the sink, their lips enjoying a heated embrace. Latoya wrapped her arms around his neck as Harry continued to wander his hands on every part of her body- her neck, her breasts, her waist, back to her breasts, and anywhere else he could touch her beautiful self and listen to her soft moans in response.

Latoya then looked into her husband’s eyes, which depicted a darkness to them, a darkness that showed only his lust and desire for more than just a quick fondle of her body. As Harry looked in her eyes, he noticed the same thing and reacted by lifting her dress up to her hips.

“No panties?” Harry inquired with a furrowed eyebrow and a smirk. He was slightly shocked at her. Latoya wasn’t really this bold with her sexual advances outside of the comfort of their home- that was more of his thing. But, this change in her behavior for the night only elevated his temptation for her.

She looked down and blushed as he responded, “I wanted to be more comfortable. You know how I am at these events.”

But, he knew she was lying as she bit her lip. “You’re such a minx, Toya. You & I both know why you didn’t wear anything tonight. You wanted us to have this moment, didn’t you?” She only chuckled as Harry started to ravenously kiss her neck until he put his lips to her ear, “You wanted us to fuck at this party, huh pretty girl?” She couldn’t help but nod.

“Yeah? That’s what you want, sweet thing?” Harry used one of his hands to crane Latoya’s neck to look down at his other hand cupping her cunt. He slipped two of his fingers in between her labia and started to rub her clit. Once he noticed her face twisting in pleasure, he focused his fingers inside of her and continued his the movements of his thumb on her clit at a much faster pace. He loved to please his girl.

Latoya leaned back against the mirror at the sink. This was what I needed tonight, she said in the back of her mind. Her anxiety was through the roof all night, as it always was at events like these. She was still kind of shy when it came to the “rockstar wife” lifestyle, and it always made her nervous whenever she was out with Harry; you never knew who was watching with their cameras out. She would usually calm down with a couple of drinks or a long smoke session back at the house after the events. But never was her anxiety satiated like this- in a public bathroom down the hall of an afterparty, with her husband’s hands going to town at her pussy.

Her soft breaths quickly turned to little whimpers, and little whimpers turned to moans as Harry continued his motions on her cunt. His gaze settled onto her pleasure-filled face which was very satisfying, but not enough. He needed more. He need to feel her. Wanted to feel her warm, wet cunt wrap around his cock and drain him. He needed to fuck her.

He released his hand from her pussy and lifted her from the sink. Her feet dropped onto the floor a bit weakly, but with enough strength to endure the rest of pleasure Harry had to offer tonight.

“Alright, pretty, time for the main course,” Harry teased, still in an obvious drunken haze which made Latoya kiss her teeth and roll her eyes at his language. He turned her around and let her ass face the tent in his trousers. Latoya wiggled her hips and bounced herself on his groin impatiently as Harry was undoing his pants. Harry slapped her ass and squeezed it in response. “Fuck off,” he spat playfully while aiming his tip at her entrance.

The anticipation was too much and Latoya couldn’t take it any longer, so she fucked back onto his length, the initial stretch causing her to moan a bit too loud for Harry’s liking. He covered her mouth with his palm atop her lips, and being a bit rebellious, Latoya licked his skin and nipped at it, causing Harry to thrust into her deeper.

Latoya moaned into her husband’s hand as she felt every inch of his cock dig into her core. Her anxiety wasn’t even a factor anymore. Her husband and both of their potential orgasms were the only three things that mattered. She didn’t take one sip of heavy alcohol tonight, but she still managed to get drunk by her husband’s cock.

Harry was in absolute bliss. The warmth of her cunt and the tug it had on his dick always led him into euphoria. It was like the deeper and harder his cock went inside of her, he always seemed to discover new parts of her that made her react in more devilish, lustful ways. And tonight in his drunken state, it was absolutely amazing times two.

Harry gripped onto her hair and tugged it with his left hand while sliding his right hand down to her neck, applying little pressure to her jugular veins. Latoya gasped as Harry sped and amp up the pressure of his thrusts along with his large hand now choking her throat. She looked up to the ceiling as she felt him get deeper, hitting spots inside of her that maximized the pleasure she was experiencing.

“Oh, honey, you’re doing so well for me on my night. You know that?” He leaned over her a bit to whisper in her ear, not holding back his thrusts. It intensified the moment- made everything more intimate and slightly more raunchy as Latoya remembered where they were, causing her cunt to squeeze around him and make him moan.

If one were to listen to what was happening in the bathroom from the outside, all they would hear is sex. Slightly sweaty skin slapping at each other, loud sopping noises erupting as Harry’s cock plowed his wife’s creaming pussy, grunts and moans intertwining with each other to create a melody of ecstasy. That would win a Brit award by itself. Song of the year, to be honest.

As they were both reaching their highs, Harry craned Latoya’s neck to make her look up at him. He towered over her and watched her glazed eyes try to stare back into his. “Open your mouth for me, love,” he ordered. Latoya opened her mouth automatically at her husband’s command, and Harry spat down her throat. He loved getting more nasty with her the more he felt her cunt cream and tug around him, hinting at her nearing climax. “I know you’re close, Toya, swallow f’me.”

Latoya obliged and with his hand still choking her, Harry felt her take his saliva down her throat. It was a dirty sight, which caused Harry’s high to come early. “Toya, fuck, I’m so close,” He managed to get out with a slight strain in his voice. He wanted to hold on for a little longer- he wanted his beautiful wife to cum first as he usually let her. But tonight, it was just all too much.

“Honey, please, please, please, fuck-” Harry grunted, and his thrusts started to get sloppier as he climaxed. His cum spilled inside of her as he continued to fuck her, and the ring already formed around his cock from Latoya’s creamy cunt got thicker and more opague as his own cum mixed with hers. The cum dripped down onto his balls as he continued to thrust, and his thrusts made his balls hit Latoya’s clit at a delicious velocity.

With all of that pleasure, from feeling his balls slap against her clit to the feeling of her cunt swallowing his cum, Latoya came maybe a millisecond after her husband. Her cunt squeezed Harry’s dick the most it could as she wrung herself out with pleasure, which caused Harry’s thrusts to slow to a halt. “There we go, honey. It’s alright. Let go for me, pretty girl. I’m right here, angel,” Harry whispered into his wife’s ear as her climax continued.

They both loved this moment. It was probably their favorite part of sex: Harry balls deep inside of his wife, chanting words of solace and comfort, as she was cumming after a hot session of lust. After a couple more seconds, Harry pulled out and gave Latoya’s ass one last smack. He grabbed some pieces of toilet paper from one of the stalls and used them to clean him and his wife up.

Latoya was weak. Her legs were still a bit wobbly and her spine was still recovering from all of the pleasure that was traveling up from her cunt to her head. Harry turned her around after wiping her up and gave her a small, yet comforting kiss on her lips. “You alright, honey?” He asked.

She looked up at him, still in a bit of a daze and smiled. “What do you think, sweetie?”

Harry chuckled and helped her fix up her dress and hair. “I think you’re more than alright.”

Latoya nodded and kissed him again. “I’m so proud of you, my love. 4 out of 4!” She punched his arm playfully, congratulating him of the awards he won earlier.

“...4 out of 4 as in the rating of the sex or..?” Harry looked at her with a sincerely confused look.

Oh yeah, he was drunk. “You’re so annoying,” Latoya smirked as she held his hand. They walked out of the bathroom, both of them trying to keep their composure as to not raise suspicious of their escapade.

But, of course, the group of friends at the table knew went on, and Harry knew they would bring it up in the next weeks to come just to tease him.

That’s just the life of an award-winning rockstar.

#harry styles smut #Harry Styles #Smut

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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 years

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Decrapify cookie consent dialogs with the Consent-O-Matic

Remember when they sneered at Geocities pages for being unusable eyesores? It's true, those old sites had some, uh, idiosyncratic design choices, but at least they reflected a real person's exuberant ideas about what looked and worked well. Today's web is an unusable eyesore by design.

Start with those fucking “sign up for our newsletter” interruptors. Email is the last federated protocol standing, so everyone who publishes is desperate to get you to sign up to their newsletter, which nominally bypasses Big Tech’s chokepoint on communications between creators and audiences. Worst part: they’re wrong, email’s also been captured:

https://doctorow.medium.com/dead-letters-73924aa19f9d

Then there’s the designer’s bizarre and sadistic conceit that “black type on a white background” is ugly and “causes eye-strain.” This has led to an epidemic of illegible grey-on-white type that I literally can’t read, thanks to a (very common) low-contrast vision disability:

https://uxmovement.com/content/why-you-should-never-use-pure-black-for-text-or-backgrounds/

Often grey-on-white type sins are compounded with minuscule font sizing. You can correct this by increasing the font size from teeny-weeny-eyestrain-o-rama to something reasonable, but when you do, all the static elements on the page size up with the text, so the useless header and footer bars filled with social media buttons and vanity branding expand to fill the whole screen.

This, in turn, is made a billion times worse by the absurd decision to hide scrollbars (shades of Douglas Adams’ description of airports where they “expose the plumbing on the grounds that it is functional, and conceal the location of the departure gates, presumably on the grounds that they are not”).

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/3205828-it-can-hardly-be-a-coincidence-that-no-language-on

Scrolling a window (without using RSI-inflaming trackpad gestures) is now the world’s shittiest, most widely played video-game, a hand-eye coordination challenge requiring sub-pixel accuracy and split-second timing to catch the scroll-bar handle in the brief, flashing instant where blips into existence:

https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1516136202235043841

One of the scariest things about the precarity of Firefox is the prospect of losing some of the customizations and stock features I rely on to decrapify the web — stuff I use so often that I sometimes forget that it’s not how everyone uses the web:

https://www.wired.com/story/firefox-mozilla-2022/

[Image ID: Two side-by-side screenshots comparing the default layout of a wired.com article ('The intoxicating pleasure of conspiratorial thinking' by Virginia Heffernan) with the same article in Firefox's Reader Mode.]

For example, there’s Firefox’s Reader Mode: a hotkey that strips out all the layout and renders the text of an article as a narrow, readable column in whatever your default font is. I reach for ctrl-alt-r so instinctively that often the publisher’s default layout doesn’t register for me.

Reader Mode (usually) bypasses interruptors and static elements, but Firefox isn’t capable of deploying Reader Mode on every site. The Activate Reader View plugin can sometimes fix this:

https://addons.mozilla.org/en-US/firefox/addon/activate-reader-view/

But when it can’t there’s my favorite, indispensable Javascript bookmarklet: Kill Sticky, which hunts through the DOM of the page you’ve got loaded and nukes any element that is tagged as “sticky” — which generally banishes any permanent top/bottom/side-bars with a single click:

https://github.com/t-mart/kill-sticky

A recent addition to my arsenal is Cookie Remover. Click it once and it deletes all cookies associated with the page you’ve currently loaded. This resets the counter on every soft paywall, including the ones that block you from using Private Browsing. Click this once, then reload, and you’re back in business:

https://addons.mozilla.org/en-US/firefox/addon/cookie-remover/

Today, I added another plug-in to my decrapification rotation: Consent-O-Matic, created by researchers at Denmark’s Aarhus University. Consent-O-Matic identifies about 50 of the most commonly deployed GDPR tracking opt-out dialog boxes and automatically opts you out of all tracking, invisibly and instantaneously:

https://consentomatic.au.dk/

We shouldn’t need Consent-O-Matic, but we do. The point of the GDPR was to make tracking users painful for internet companies, by forcing them to break down all the different data they wanted to gather and the uses they wanted to put it to into a series of simple, yes/no consent requests. The idea was to create boardroom discussions where one person said, “OK, let’s collect this invasive piece of data” and someone else could say, “Fine, but that will require us to display eight additional dialog boxes so we’ll lose 95% of users if we do.”

https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/26/ico-ico/#market-structuring

What’s more, the GDPR said that if you just bypassed all those dialog boxes (say, by flipping to Reader Mode), the publisher had to assume you didn’t want to be tracked.

But that’s not how it’s worked. A series of structural weaknesses in European federalism and the text of the GDPR itself have served to encrapify the web to a previously unheard-of degree, subjecting users to endless cookie consent forms that are designed to trick you into opting into surveillance.

Part of this is an enforcement problem. The EU Commission we have today isn’t the Commission that created the GDPR, and there’s a pervasive belief that the current Commission decided that enforcing their predecessors’ policies wasn’t a priority. This issue is very hot today, as the Commission considers landmark rules like the Digital Services Act (DSA) and the Digital Markets Act (DMA), whose enforcement will be at the whim of their successors.

The failures of EU-wide enforcement is compounded by the very nature of European federalism, which gives member states broad latitude to interpret and enforce EU regulations. This is most obviously manifested in EU member states’ tax policies, with rogue nations like Luxembourg, Malta, the Netherlands and Ireland vying for supreme onshore-offshore tax haven status.

Not surprisingly, countries whose tax-codes have been hijacked by multinational corporations and their enablers in government are likewise subject to having their other regulations captured by the companies that fly their flags of convenience.

America’s biggest Big Tech giants all pretend to be headquartered in Ireland (which, in turn, allows them to pretend that their profits are hovering in a state of untaxable grace far above the Irish Sea). These same companies ensured that Ireland’s Data Protection Commissioner’s Office is starved of cash and resources. Big Tech argues that their Irish domicile means that anyone who wants to complain about their frequent and enthusiastic practice of wiping their asses with the text of the GDPR has to take it up with the starveling regulators of Ireland.

That may change. Max Schrems — whose advocacy gave rise to the GDPR in the first place — has dragged the tech giants in front of German regulators, who are decidedly more energetic than their Irish counterparts:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/15/out-here-everything-hurts/#noyb

The new EU tech competition laws — the DMA and DSA — aim to fix this, shoring up enforcement in a way that should end these “consent” popups. They also seek to plug the GDPR’s “legitimate purpose” loophole, which lets tech companies spy on you and sell your data without your consent, provided they claim that this is for a “legitimate purpose.”

But in the meantime, GDPR consent dialogs remain a hot mess, which is where Consent-O-Matic comes in. Consent-O-Matic automates away the tedious work of locating all the different switches you have to click before you truly opt out of consent-based tracking. This practice of requiring you to seek out multiple UI elements is often termed a “Dark Pattern”:

https://dl.acm.org/doi/pdf/10.1145/3313831.3376321

But while “Dark Pattern” has some utility as a term-of-art, I think that it’s best reserved for truly sneaky tactics. Most of what we call “Dark Patterns” fits comfortably in under the term “fraud.” For example, if “Opt Out of All” doesn’t opt out of all, unless you find and toggle another “I Really Mean It” box, that’s not a fiendish trick, it’s just a scam.

Whether you call this “fraud” or a “Dark Pattern,” Consent-O-Matic has historic precedent that suggests that it could really make a difference. I’m thinking here of the original browser wars, where Netscape and Internet Explorer (and others like Opera) fought for dominance on the early web.

That early web had its own crapification: the ubiquitous pop-up ad. Merely opening a page could spawn dozens of pop-ups, some of them invisible 1px-by-1px dots, others that would run away from your cursor across the screen if you tried to close them, and they’d all be tracking you and auto-playing 8-bit music.

The pop-up ad was killed by the pop-up blocker. When browsers like Mozilla and Opera started blocking pop-ups by default, users switched to them in droves. That meant that an ever-smaller proportion of web users could even see a pop-up, which meant that advertisers stopped demanding pop-ups. Publishers — who knew their readers hated pop-ups but were beholden to advertisers to keep the lights on — were finally able to convince advertisers that pop-ups were a bad idea. Why pay for ads that no one will see?

Pop-up blockers are an early example of Adversarial Interoperability, AKA Competitive Compatibility (comcom for short). That’s the practice of improving an existing product or service by making an add-on or plug in that changes how it behaves to make it more responsive to its users’ interests, without permission from the original manufacturer:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

It’s been more than 20 years since the Platform for Privacy Preferences (P3P) tried to get tech companies to voluntarily recognize and honor their users’ privacy choices. It failed:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/P3P

Do Not Track, another attempt to do the same, did not fare much better:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Do_Not_Track

But you know what actually worked? Tracker-blockers and ad-blockers, “the largest consumer boycott in history”:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/07/adblocking-how-about-nah

Making it impossible to track users is of great assistance to efforts to make it illegal to track users. Tools like Consent-O-Matic change the “security economics” of crapification, by turning the consent theater of illegal cookie popups into actual, GDPR-enforceable demands by users not to be tracked:

https://doctorow.medium.com/automation-is-magic-f4c1401d1f0d

Decrapifying the web is a long, slow process. It’s not just using interoperability to restore pluralism to the web, ending the era of “five giant websites, each filled with screenshots of text from the other four”:

https://twitter.com/tveastman/status/1069674780826071040

It’s also using a mix of technology and regulation to fight back against deliberate crapification. Between Consent-O-Rama, Reader Mode, Kill Sticky and Cookie Remover, it’s possible to decrapify much of your daily browsing and substantially improve your life.

[Image ID: A GDPR consent dialog with a rubber stamp in the center depicting a snarling man flipping the bird.]

#pluralistic #plural system

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frozen-fountain · 1 month

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Nine people you'd like to get to know better

Thank you, @clevertitlegoeshere!

last song: Spark by Tori Amos.

favorite color: Dark red and vibrant purple.

currently watching: I've been saying "I'm going to start Dungeon Meshi" for the last little while and then not doing that.

sweet/savory/spicy: Yes.

relationship status: @kisaragiyukine has been bravely putting up with my terrible sense of humour and descents into the abyss for nigh on seven years.

current obsession: I recently bought a mouse for my laptop after the built-in trackpad, which was stupidly over-sensitive and wont to develop a mind of is own at the mere suggestion a speck of dust might fall upon it, finally gave up the ghost. And it's like getting my glasses. I don't know why I didn't do this ages ago. I can aim the cursor at things, click on things, scroll past things, and highlight things, all in minimal time and with minimal effort! It's intoxicating.

Besides that magic, I read the ending of The Solution by K.A. Applegate yesterday and I can't stop thinking about it and how abysmal it made me feel. Some of you may know that I've been working through the Animorphs series for the first time as a thirtysomething with my partner and another friend, and this one was something else. American Psycho has been solidly dethroned by a children's book for most upsetting literary rat scene.

last thing you googled: Krebsehalesalat (my Danish friend was telling me about a meal and didn't know the English word).

I nominate @foxgloveinthesun, @novelistparty, @monk-of-figaro, @mothboypoison, @sporebat, @moogleterra, @mothuary, @runicmagitek, and anyone else who feels like sharing.

#froze thoughts

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companion-showdown · 2 months

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Can I nominate Vastra? She has drug candles, bone drugs, and goodness knows what else. (Like. Canonically...)

yep

#intoxication: nominations

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tea-with-evan-and-me · 1 year

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You’re obsessed with EMMA because she is skinny and pretty and youre not

the irony here is that you are actually describing yourself. you are obsessed with emma for shallow reasons and believe that because she is a pretty woman, she is excused from being an awful, abusive person who no one objective has anything good to say about. countless negative stories, interactions, blind items, a domestic violence arrest.. and yet, here you are defending her. calling others “obsessed” when you are the one on an evan peters fan account. what does that say about you? nothing good, i’m afraid.

quite frankly, even the most physically hideous ogre of a person could not match the ugliness inside of this woman you “stan”. it’s nothing to be proud of when you’re beautiful on the outside, but evil on the inside. that is why emma is a miserable person reaping what she sowed. she has an innocent baby (by an alcoholic felon) at home and her shein evan peters boyfriend, but she’s in public places intoxicated and snorting white stuff off a baby changing table in a bathroom. hawking dairy milk and whatever else someone will cut her a sponsorship check for on instagram, acting in romcoms no one will ever see.. while evan garners critical acclaim, and major award show nominations and wins. and a new sunshine-y girlfriend, whose presence bothered emma to the point she unfollowed her on instagram, like a petulant high schooler. like the bitter demon she is. i’m grateful we’ll all get what we deserve in life. 💗

#evan peters #emma roberts #yeah i’m tagging since you all wanna talk 😌

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jbaileyfansite · 8 months

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Fellow Travelers Article by Entertaintment Weekly (2023)

Time works differently on the set of Fellow Travelers. It's not what we typically think of as linear. It's as if the past, the present, and the future are all unfolding simultaneously. That sensation feels most apparent one particular Wednesday afternoon in Toronto in early November.

Magic Mike's Matt Bomer and Bridgerton's Jonathan Bailey, the two stars of Showtime's decades-spanning love story, prepare for a scene that plays out in 1950s Washington, D.C. The backdrop is the Lavender Scare, Senator Joseph McCarthy (Chris Bauer) and chief legal counsel Roy Cohn's (Will Brill) purge of homosexuals from government jobs. It's deep into the relationship of Hawkins Fuller (Bomer) and Tim Laughlin (Bailey), two closeted men on the Hill whose private lives are consumed with intoxicating sex and fluctuating power dynamics. Tim, marked by his signature full-rim glasses and a polka-dot short-sleeve button-up, is packing a suitcase in his practically doll-sized apartment, ready to leave town and never look back. Then Hawk, fedora in hand, knocks at the door and…

"It smells like soup," Bailey remarks in between takes. Bomer can't seem to smell anything, but his costar insists the savory aroma is there. "Is that what's on my fingers?" Bailey wonders, slipping back into his British accent as he thrusts his hands underneath his scene partner's nose. Bomer doesn't flinch, but promptly takes a whiff — a sign of the immense comfort and intimacy the two actors have developed while making this period piece. As it happens, chicken noodle soup is the very meal Hawk and Tim share on their first date, which was shot in the same apartment set on which the actors now find themselves. Does the smell actually still linger days later or is it a sensory echo? "Déjà vu. Chicken noodle soup," Bailey remarks — and then the cameras roll for their fourth take.

While Fellow Travelers begins with Hawk and Tim falling for each other during a terrifying time for queer people in America, the limited series, told over eight episodes, tracks their waxing-and-waning relationship through pivotal moments of queer history, such as the Harvey Milk era of the '70s and the AIDS crisis of the '80s. "It becomes difficult not only for the actors, but the directors to keep track of everything," admits producer Robbie Rogers, who says the crew worked across three-to-four different stages on any given day in their Toronto studio. As we speak, another star, M3GAN's Allison Williams, dressed in a '50s-era tartan dress and pearl necklace, is running accent drills off in another set designed for a '70s-style San Francisco apartment. "Because we shoot out of order, and there were times in which we were shooting multiple decades back to back, they did rely on me to keep track of where they were in their lives," adds series creator and showrunner Ron Nyswaner, the Oscar-nominated scribe of Philadelphia.

A story like Fellow Travelers feels somewhat revolutionary, even now in 2023 when it can seem as though history is repeating itself. (Former President Donald Trump, whom Nyswaner refers to as "the antichrist," considered the late Roy Cohn as a mentor, and the two share similar rhetoric.) Inspired by Thomas Mallon's 2007 novel of the same name, the series offers an unflinching look at gay relationships at a time when they were forced into hiding. Yes, that includes some of the most erotic depictions of same-sex sex ever put to screen on a premium television network at a time when politicians are once again trying to tell LGBTQ Americans to keep their "lifestyles" behind closed doors. Says Nyswaner, "Our goal was to really tell the story from an LGBTQIA perspective of what happened in the '50s and then to take it past the '50s."

A love for the ages

Nyswaner deviated from Mallon's book quite a bit, incorporating the other decades to the piece, but he says the essence of Hawk and Tim came directly from the source material. "It haunted me for years," Nyswaner says of the novel. (The creator spoke with EW in August for an interview coordinated through his personal PR team in accordance with WGA strike guidelines.) The writer sat with the concept for years, only returning to it with the help of Rogers after his work on Ray Donovan and Homeland, so it's not surprising that Nyswaner thinks of Fellow Travelers as a hybrid of both those shows, part "fixer thriller" and part "political thriller."

Daniel Minahan, who directed a pivotal bottle episode of Ray Donovan, sees a similarity between Liev Schreiber's performance and Bomer's Hawk. "They're both fixers," he says. "Ray's someone who has his own moral code and is immoral. Hawk has his own moral code, but it's very specific to being a closeted gay man." Hawk, a war hero, exudes a classical man-about-town image as an always-suited, charming State Department official courting Lucy Smith (Williams), the daughter of a prominent U.S. senator. In his private life, he discreetly prowls for other gay men in dark-cornered cruising grounds to satiate his hunger for sexual dominance.

"I find sometimes that gay characters are made too clean," Nyswaner reflects. "They're made too noble. I'm just tired of that. Hawkins Fuller certainly is a very complicated, sometimes unlikeable antihero. I'd marry him in a second and then regret it probably in a few days, but there's something fascinating about watching someone who is in charge and you don't like him, but you kind of enjoy it. I think that helps us get away with a lot."

Bailey's Tim is more gentle and naive than Hawk, especially when the Irish Fordham University graduate and devout Catholic first arrives on the Hill. Rogers met Bailey on his past project when filmmaker Michael Grandage was scouting for the role of Patrick opposite Harry Styles in My Policeman, a part that ultimately went to David Dawson. "Things didn't work out for a number of reasons, but I remember being really interested in him as an actor," the producer says. There's an inherent delight in now seeing the Bridgerton heartthrob play someone a few shades geekier, complete with a fondness for milk that Tim will order at bars without shame. "Jonny's character in Bridgeton is a little bit like Hawkins Fuller. He's kind of ruthless and he's in charge," Nyswaner points out. "Jonny's version of Tim is so vulnerable. You just don't know if you want Tim to get away from [Hawk] or stay with him and change him."

The two stars got together over Zoom for a chemistry read. Bomer (already attached as an executive producer) called in from L.A., Bailey from London, and Nyswaner from Toronto. The showrunner remembers, "It was electric." The pair were reading Hawk and Tim's first proper meeting: flirting with each other on a park bench in the days after clocking eyes at a political soiree. "I got a text from one of the executives who said, 'Well, that's the first time I've cried in a chemistry read.'"

There are two other core relationships explored in Fellow Travelers. One is Hawk and Lucy, both hiding parts of themselves from each other. The other is one Nyswaner developed just for the series, another gay couple entwined in the lives of Hawk and Tim: Marcus Hooks (Jelani Alladin), a Black journalist covering the Senate beat, and Frankie Hines (Noah J. Ricketts), a drag performer working at the Cozy Corner underground gay bar.

On the set in November, Alladin offers a tour of Marcus' San Francisco apartment in the '80s setting. The character's story is reflected in the props that adorn the space, from the Jean-Baptiste painting on the wall to the writerly awards spotted on the shelves. "He goes from this closeted man, not loving himself, to completely in love and embracing not only Black culture, but the fact that he's a homosexual man," the actor says.

It's "that struggle of, where is my loyalty? I have to be a Black man first because that's what is needed and expected of me from my community," Nyswaner adds. "Jelani and I had conversations where he would read to me from his journal that he kept in the voice of Marcus. Sometimes I would say, 'Can I put that in the scene?' So, that was a really beautiful collaboration."

Marcus remains in stark contrast to his love, Frankie, who, according to Ricketts, is all about being authentic to oneself at all times. "What I love about Frankie is that sometimes he feels like putting on a jacket and being butch and going out into the world, and other times he feels like painting his nails and letting his hair out," Ricketts says.

And, the actor notes, "every drag queen has a drag mother." For him, that would be costume designer Joseph La Corte, who's been Emmy nominated for work on Fosse/Verdon, Boardwalk Empire, and The Sopranos. "Joseph was the one who taught me how to hide and tuck and get rid of everything that I needed to discreetly put away."

The politics of sex

The first glimpse the public saw of Fellow Travelers came unexpectedly in September 2022. It was another ripple in time: Bailey, sporting a '70s stache, flaunted his pronounced pectorals alongside Bomer on the shores of Lake Ontario, which doubled for the waves of Fire Island. Rogers says they had to shoot those scenes first by necessity as winter wasn't far off. Little did they know, paparazzi were hiding out nearby. Rogers was admittedly stressed at first when photos of the scene spread online. "My first reaction was, 'Is this gonna affect shooting going forward?' I had that experience with Harry Styles in England when we did My Policeman. So, maybe I was traumatized," he recalls, laughing.

The leak ended up being the best thing for Fellow Travelers. People couldn't help but thirst over two shirtless Hollywood hunks in their prime, gleefully wrestling with each other in the water. A cheeky Nyswaner agrees, "It was not a bad thing that those images came out." Even now, however, the series is going to prove sexier than some might be prepared for. In one scene that occurs early on, Hawk is prepping for a party thrown by Senator McCarthy. Tim, letting his partner's hand linger over the hairs on his chest, wants to go but doesn't have an invite. "I'm your boy, right?" Bailey's Tim says, already working his seductive magic. "And your boy wants to go to the party." Regarding what happens next, let's just say, if Ben Shapiro doesn't go on a three-hour diatribe afterwards, it will be a shock.

Minahan speaks of this specific moment from the breakfast nook of his Gramercy apartment in New York City, where a plump peach sits on a dish among croissants and morning sweets — an appropriate image given the subject matter. "What sets these sex scenes apart is that they are moving the story forward," he explains. "The way they're moving the story forward is by the transference of power that happens between [the characters]."

There were many rules on the set of Fellow Travelers, particularly when it came to sex, which involved intimacy coordinators and lots of rehearsals. Nyswaner quotes the great queer poet Oscar Wilde, who said, "Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power." That was one rule. "The other rule," Nyswaner continues, "was that we wouldn't do the same sexual act more than once, or the same combination." That proved to be harder than they all realized. "I remember when we were writing episode 8, my co-writers and I said, 'What haven't we done?'"

Minahan, who directs the first episode, ended up setting that tone for the whole show. "What I was going for in those first two hours was this idea of Tim, who's not particularly sexually experienced, having this almost transcendent experience with Hawk which imprints on him," he says. "He becomes almost obsessive about his attachment, but whether Hawk's in love with the power that he has over him or actually has this love for him is part of the tension of the piece. His life and sexuality is so compartmentalized. It's like, this is when I do sex, this is when I'm at work, this is when I have my girlfriend."

This kind of material meant that Bomer and Bailey were going to be in each other's personal spaces for a significant part of filming. The pair have previously spoken about finding that trust and comfort with each other as scene partners, and Rogers could feel it. "They were gonna be there for each other the whole production and keep each other safe," he says. "It's actors finding that with each other and feeling safe on set, feeling safe with us. Whatever the cut we present to the studio and network, we have their best interest and the show's best interest in mind."

Ripples through time

Rogers knows viewers will pay a lot of attention to the sex on Fellow Travelers for obvious reasons, but he says it wasn't their goal to be "too salacious," noting, "It's quite an emotional and powerful show."

All three of the producers who spoke with EW, including Minahan and Nyswaner, felt the weight of time, and more specifically history, while making the miniseries. Rogers, a former international soccer star, formed a deeply personal connection to the material, having come out as gay in 2013 when few professional athletes were doing so. "If your secret was revealed, your life could be ruined. I slightly felt that way in my past career," he recalls.

Minahan's connection, meanwhile, came from growing up gay through the '80s. "I think we put ourselves in things in ways we don't even know," Nyswaner remarks. "I came of age in the '60s and then as a young teenager in the '70s, moved to New York in 1978, came out, really enjoyed some of that celebration of being liberated in a limited way, and then, of course, the cold shower of the AIDS crisis."

Nyswaner lost friends and loved ones to the disease over the years, including his nephew, for whom he would write 1993's Philadelphia, starring Tom Hanks and Denzel Washington. He felt similarly compelled to include that time period in Fellow Travelers. "Since it's a part of my life, I just couldn't let that go," he says. But the drama feels richer for expanding well beyond the '50s setting of Mallon's novel. Nyswaner adds, "If you have a chance to tell a story like this, I wanted to tell as much of it as possible."

Perhaps he'll get the chance to tell even more. Both Nyswaner and Rogers confirm they are already talking about the possibility of turning the miniseries into an anthology series that would track different queer fellow travelers across history. The current Hollywood writer and actor strikes, however, are putting those early talks on hold.

"How about if I just say...? Yes, I think that there are many stories to be told, and Robbie and I have spoken in detail. Because of the strike, we haven't spoken to any of our studio executives about it. When the strike ends, that'll be a conversation that I hope to have immediately with them. Even maybe taking one or two of the characters from this season who weren't [featured] as prominently as Hawk and Tim."

That seems to be yet another rule of Fellow Travelers.

Source

#fellow travelers #jonathan bailey #jonny bailey #jonathanbailey #matt bomer #jelani alladin #noah j. ricketts #allison williams #ron nyswaner #daniel minahan #robbie rogers #showtime #paramount plus #paramount+#lgbtq #gay romance #ft spoilers #NEW!

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mousebetterhavemymoney · 9 months

Text

Gangnam Style (Chapter 1)

~Trigger warning~

Descriptions of sxual abuse.

October 24, 1995

"Look Who's Growing Up!"

"Today is a special day for America's foreign sweetheart. Today, Jamie-Ann, the star of the Oscar nominated film, Love Language, and the singer and songwriter of the film's soundtrack album (the most notable among them being "Uh-Oh") celebrates her twentieth birthday today. Sources say her boyfriend, film star Daniel Pierce, plans to make at big announcement at her birthday party, which he plans to throw tonight at the lavish mansion they share."

______________________________________________________________

Detroit, October 25, 1995

Marshall watched the tv with a glazed expression on his face. This celebrity gossip sh*t was the last thing he wanted to watch.

Unluckily for him, nothing else was on...

He narrowed his eyes slightly in recognition at what he thought was a familiar face on the TV. It was that girl from that movie Kim was so obsessed with. He called over his shoulder to get her attention.

"Ay, Kim! Looks like that Asian girl you like so much is marrying the pretty boy."

Kim poked her head out from the other room, and immediately came over to look at the screen.

"Holy sh*t, really?!

"Yeah. Look for yourself."

______________________________________________________________

"Another happy announcement for pop star and actress, Jamie-Ann. Multiple photos were snapped last night at her twentieth birthday bash. The most notable being the ones of her boyfriend, Daniel Pierce, proposing. Many are surprised to hear the young lady is settling down so quickly. Nevertheless, we wish the talented young stars all the best in their engagement."

______________________________________________________________

The Morning After The Party

Jang-Mi felt sick to her stomach as she stared at the toilet bowl.

And it wasn't just because of all the celebratory drinking she had (un)willingly joined in on.

She'd spent the past hour dumping the contents of her stomach in the toilet bowl, and the putrid smell disgusted her almost as much as her own stupidity in agreeing to the engagement.

She had wanted to refuse. She really did. Although Jang-Mi loved Danny, and was determined to believe he loved her...it had become apparent to her that love wasn't enough to stop him from mistreating her.

Ever since they'd started working on their film he had been... touching her.

And when she moved in... it came to be a lot worse than simply "touching". Her multiple objections never seemed to stop him. Jang-Mi felt so foolish that he thought her intoxication would've stopped him last night.

She'd barely been awake, of course. That didn't mean it didn't hurt her.

Jang-Mi inhaled deeply through her nose, and forced a smile, wiping her tears as she got up off the bathroom floor. She tried to remind her self of the words her grandmother had been telling her all her life.

"큰 여자들은 울지 않습니다."

Jang-Mi hardly felt like a big girl right now, but she was eighteen and that had to mean something....

Right?

She pushed away her doubts and closed the bathroom door behind her, hoping to leave the negative thoughts behind her. She had to remember that no matter what he did, Daniel loved her. And that was all that mattered.

______________________________________________________________

A/N

Ik this chapter was kinda fillery. But i think it's important for me to set up some background for the character before i get into the real "meat" of the story. I plan to have her meet Em in either 1999 or 2002. Anyway, hope you enjoyed that. i'm not sure when i'll get the next chapter out, because i'll be quite busy soon, and their are still quite a few details of the story that need to be worked out.

#eminem #slim shady #eminem x reader #marshall mathers #writing tips are appreciated #hope you guys enjoy #please dont judge me #the last thing i wrote was warrior cats stuff #it was mad cringe lmao #i was a weird kid back then...

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irenethewoman · 7 months

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Chapter 12 - Troubles

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London in December 1921. Patton Senior. died at the start of December.

I legally inherited 60% of his property prior to his passing. He can only watch annexation and acquisition from his bed. I witnessed my entire life's work being destroyed. Along with all of my nominal relatives, I went to his funeral.

No tears were shed. This ritual resembled the marble coffin he picked out for himself. Although luxurious, it was icy and emotionless. taste. Actually, George and Helen might not have been born if you were a boy. ". William spoke to me in such a calm manner. This is extremely uncommon. I either remember a domineering, haughty, or inebriated William.

Since I was a young child, I've envied you. I wish I was as smart as you, but I'm jealous of how much my father adores you. Despite being much younger than I am, you can do it with ease. The questions my father gave me to answer were simple for me. Despite my best efforts, I was unable to overtake you. I believe. Reply Share Add Follow Report. I begged my father to listen to me, but all he did was compliment you. His treasure is you alone. He was always so distant from me. Face. Even George's father didn't take him very seriously, in case you missed it. ".

So you immerse yourself in a vat of wine and confront your father everywhere. I had to make fun of him. William continued to speak to himself while ignoring my sarcasm, gazing off into the distance. He said, "I was very confused when my father died.

I was at a loss when I suddenly understood that after all these years, all I had done was cause trouble everywhere and make my father ill. Down. ".

"That's not completely accurate. You also have a child who was murdered before he was even born. ". I know, he paused, and he turned to face me. I know. I'm sure you'll never forget that maid. ".

She has a name! Her name is Mary Smith! She was even expecting your child, I sneered, "That maid," I couldn't help but sneer. You killed her, my wife, you beat her to death once more, you raped her, and you don't even remember her name. She was a poor Christian, forced to carry your evil seed, forced to suffer both physical and mental torture. She cannot have an abortion.

"Don't claim that you want to alter your behavior and are sorry for the past. When Mary asked where I was, I pointed to the south. Go talk to her and see if she will forgive you, my sister commanded, as she erected a tomb.

After saying that, I quickly walked away from him. I'm so sick that I actually believe a bastard who has existed for almost 30 years can change his ways! Jenny, have you called?

I had a little lightheadedness from the red wine at the party, so I stumbled and fell on the sofa, kicking one of my shoes off. "No, Madame Baroness. Jenny is a sweet-natured Celtic girl with blue eyes that are round and adorable. very small freckles. I had my other shoe removed by her. "oh……". I am somewhat. No, I'm completely lost.

I've written to Tommy to inform him that I'm now a baroness and that Turner House, 10 King's Road, Chelsea, is now legally my property. private residence. He received my phone number and postal address. I even mentioned Turner to him in the letter.

The Baroness is very well-liked in the social scene of London, and her suitors come and go like crucian carp in a river. All I want is for Thomas Shelby to call me, be envious of me, and use nice words to try to get me to confess my love for him. He didn't, though. ". I became very upset, pouted, and curled up on the couch. Tommy once claimed that I was more addictive to him than opiates, but in actuality, I was the one who was dependent on him. Every night I engaged in conversation and laughter at balls in London, dealt with various wealthy individuals every day, and interacted with a wide range of people.

Suitors. I was disoriented and intoxicated as I walked, and I couldn't stop thinking about him. There were one or two social interactions that were intolerable. I even considered eloping with my possessions back to Birmingham while in court.

But I am unable. I've made the decision to take over as Baron Turner and inherit everything from my father. But I figured I could treat myself to a holiday for Christmas. Just as I had done when I fled London seven years prior, I traversed the streets of Birmingham while toting my compact suitcase. Yet this.

I didn't have Finn to drive me home this time. The London affair was nearly over when I secretly flew back to Birmingham. I want to make Christmas special for my little prince. surprise.

I arrived at the horse racing betting station as snowflakes fell from the sky. Miss, tomorrow is Christmas. I'm planning to arrive early tomorrow to wager on the horse races. We'll end now. "I recognized the voice.

John is here. He grinned with surprise as I glanced up at him. "Diana!". We gave each other hugs. I was working in the kitchen with Polly and the others when Tommy returned home.

"Thomas didn't say it, but my dear, I believe he wanted to see you when he traveled to London so aggressively. " Polly. told me while grinning.

I laughed as I dipped my head. The look on Tommy's face if he realized Polly had exposed him is something I'm really curious to see. I heard John say "Tommy!" and grabbed the salad bowl as I exited the kitchen.

Across the dining table, we were just staring at one another. He took over Kenpo's business successfully and without incident, as he claimed in his letter. This is all. I still find his blue eyes fascinating even though his cheeks have gotten paler over time. I observed as the surprise gradually gave way to tenderness in his eyes. I blush and feel my heart race just from his soft gaze. A look is much better than a thousand words because it is so full of love and meaning.

Arthur popped his head out from behind him, "Tommy, what are you doing here?" He became hesitant when he saw me. "All right Tommy, you have plenty of time to examine Diana in more detail. John pushed Tommy while grinning. As I watched these men fight and push each other like immature children, I grinned. I went backwards and walked. cooking area.

This smell is what home smells like. Tommy moved into a larger home after earning a lot of money. His bedroom also expanded, and the bed did as well. yes. He rolled off of me and fell asleep next to me once the rain stopped and the clouds parted.

I still held him and tried to get into his arms even though the love just now had taken too much of my energy. Tommy exhaled and gave me a tight hug while kissing my skin and face.

Do you intend to leave? "Maybe. After all, the Turner family in Chelsea still has a lot of face. I murmured as I lay in his arms. "I. The brothers have tarnished the sterling reputation of our Turner family, which dates back to George I and has endured for many generations. through misbehavior.

The men in my family can only cause trouble, and then they will—William, who is well-known in London, and George, who isn't even an adult but has an illegitimate son. The mess-making is done by women. ". However, I'll most likely depart at the end of January. I turned my head up and gave him a chin kiss. "You're welcome to visit me anytime in London.

10 King's Road in Chelsea. Little prince, my dear. ". He had a fresh wound on his chest when I rubbed myself in his arms. It appeared to have been shot. I quickly stepped away from his arms out of fear that I would press his wound, and I used my fingers to gently circle the scar. Admire him. It must hurt awfully bad. Why did that happen. Didn't you say you had no skin injuries? ".

What's wrong with the wound on your hand? Tommy asked as he grabbed my hand and kissed it. "I was. "I did the burning myself.

However, I was afraid to say that to him. Even though we are very close, Tommy's expression of rage still makes me very impressed. It's peculiar. It's frightening, and I can't take his "punishment" any longer. After a brief period of silence, I realized that he had changed the topic. The subject should not even be brought up again. "It's a minor injury. A long time ago, everything was fine. I kept it from you. He gestured with his hand up, playing with my hair. "Explain your hands to me. ". "I……".

I was mortified as I looked into his probing eyes. But I was only able to go into great detail about my time in London. Of course, I forgot about the young men who flocked to me day after day.

I grew increasingly uneasy as I watched Tommy's expression of silence; surely he wouldn't get angry again? "I suddenly felt bad for letting you go. He gave me a big bear hug while he sighed. I stood up and kissed Tommy on the mouth, saying, "But I'm back, aren't I?

I gave him a direct look and said, "Tommy, I want you to tell me everything in the future and not keep it from me.". Eyes: "Whether it's accidents or anything else, financial difficulties or domestic problems. You got it all, Tommy.everything. You are always aware of what I can share with you. ". We just exchanged silent looks. Before he slowly nodded.

In Birmingham, I had a wonderful Christmas vacation. Every day, talk about the newest London fashion with Polly and Ismey. The kids talk about interesting things that happened in London before spending the night with my little prince.

"The dictator of Little Hiss and his troubled demon queen. ". I suddenly recalled my old moniker. I tried to speak clearly despite the fact that I was panting and lying beneath Tommy. Chu.

After hearing this, Thomas just chuckled and put more effort into demonstrating his "excessive debauchery.". The Baroness appears to have many suitors. Was it successful in finding the goddess? He was consuming the port wine I had brought back while seated at the other end of the tub.

I leisurely poured myself a glass of wine and asked, "Are you jealous?". "A beautiful, wealthy single woman. If a young woman marries, she will inherit a sizable amount of property and the title of baroness without any elders to make careless comments. this. Such a baroness would not attract any suitors who would be concerned with her virginity. ". I put down the wine glass in my hand and sat in the bathtub, asking, "So, is Mr. Shelby also interested in this Baroness?".

She shifted slightly in front of him before leaning forward and placing her hand on the inside of his thigh, just beneath the foam. His knees were nearly in contact with my breasts. I observed his Adam's apple rolling with pleasure.

"Per your request, my dear. Baroness. ".

I had to return to London once the holidays were over.

Cold, lonesome, and empty. After a brief trip back to Birmingham, I found 10 King Street to be progressively more intolerable. Home. There are still a lot of servants here, and occasionally young talents from London come to see me. However, in my opinion, it is still fair. Family honor has trapped me like a cold cage.

I didn't feel alive again until I occasionally traveled to Birmingham, and only then did I experience true emotion. only.

At that point, I no longer felt like a lifeless prisoner of familial honor, but rather like a living being. doll for a puppet.

It's possible that people were offended by the way I treated the young men, which led to the spread of unfavorable rumors about me. smell.

Some claim that my health is the reason why my suitors are so eager, while others assert that I did certain things during the five years I spent living away from London.

I once worked as a prostitute, and some claim that I frequently skip dances because I have business meetings with my financial backers; they fear that I will one day take over that profession from them. They believe that I paid for it with my body because of the financial sponsor.

Some insiders claim that I left London to meet my lover, a black man, and that they obtained this information from unidentified sources. Help the boss out.

To be completely honest, I was quite intrigued when I first heard those ridiculous rumors, just like when I heard a stranger's joke. Thus, urban legends are still used in London. But because I knew they were getting closer to reality, I finally became irate. How would you rate my little prince?

I asked Attorney Collins, my head spinning, "Can I sue them?". It is theoretically feasible, Madam Baroness. But these rumors are so pervasive that you can't even, he scowled in shame.

I have no idea where they came from. Furthermore, you cannot begin it one at a time once it has been spread by too many people. sue. ".

Such a mess. I clenched my fists, closed my eyes, and made an effort to restrain my rage. The same issue affects men who can have affairs with women of all social classes and even have children out of wedlock before getting hitched. Just a few jokes, really. However, because my lover is a Birmingham commoner, I, Baroness Turner, will be raped. to which.

I just did the same thing as those men, not even as extreme as them, but I was the subject of unending rumors. Slandered.

"Whore. heh. ". I believe I know who is responsible. At a ball held at Buckingham Palace, I first met my sister, Helen Burgess.

I had just said hello to Mr. Dot Churchill and had the first dance before that. He told me that my brother's passing had caused him grief.

I apologize, and congrats on acquiring the title successfully. I went to my sister's spot on the corner after the dance and sat down. Indeed, I overheard some people saying on the way. Mr. Churchill and I were involved in an affair.

I was a flower girl at Mr. Churchill's wedding; they are such creative people. Nevertheless, these politicians have morals.

Very flexible, but there is no real reason for someone to have sex with the young daughter of his former colleague, just like he did with his own daughter when she was a child. a young female.

"Your husband must have worked very hard to gain entry. Using your maiden name would have made it simple to invite you. Do enter. "I drank some champagne.

He is my husband. I looked in Helen's direction as she stubbornly raised her head. The congressman Burgess is collaborating. The wife of the Lord of the Admiralty flirted with, more accurately. flattered.

a man who utilizes his lover as a means of power. In fact, Councilor Burgess visited me after I was made a baroness. I don't even know who gave him this assurance. Face, we didn't get along during the inheritance argument just now. You are free to approach me as an equal after you lose. I offered to support his career and be his lover. I sipped more champagne and remained silent, only turning to look at Senator Burgess. I will only bargain with those who can speak to me in order to capture the thief and the king. There's no need for me to intervene, though, because he provoked Mr. Churchill. Ordinary scandals are just something to talk about after dinner. Men won't give them a second thought, and they'll even use them as medals to show it.

I have endless charm. But when these have an impact on their lives and careers, they will abruptly abandon them. The rumors' development has simply been sped up by me. Indeed, Mr. Churchill couldn't stay still and stood up to correct those false facts.

words. Additionally, society also ignored those foolish, chatty women who fell for Senator Burgess' charms.

I at last experienced my usual peace and quiet after the London social season ended. even though I've handled these storms well. I spent the night returning to Birmingham because I was still feeling very upset.

Tommy was headed to London to meet me because he had heard the rumors. He once more set the bag down in his hand when he saw me approaching the door. plum.

"Tommy. why not wed me right away. ". I feel extremely resentful and resentful when I consider those "whispering words" that nearly punctured my spine. if it was. Birmingham, if anyone had dared to do this to me, I would have shot them all. "Dani, you are the Baroness," Tommy said while wiping away my tears and kissing my lips. ".

"I don't give a damn! I don't give a damn! Tommy, I just want you. ". I felt more wronged the more I sobbed, and the more I sobbed, the more I wanted to cry. I behaved childishly as I lay in Tommy's arms and resisted getting up.

Until I eventually stopped crying, he quietly hugged me. "Dani, I can't let the last two years' worth of your labor go to waste. Turner, not Diana, is who you are now. ". Lord. ".

"I regret it, Tommy. I regret it. ". Tommy and I would have wed, had kids, and I would have been well-known if I had still been Diana Turner. Sincere Shelby, please. However, I can now have sex with various men before getting married because I am Baroness Turner. Love, but I couldn't date a Birmingham gangster. "Honey, you were acting irate. Tommy gave me a kiss. Of course, I still recall why I chose to make the effort to become a baroness and why I initially decided to return to London. A London baroness wife will play a role when Tommy starts to expand to London, which is a more crucial factor.

In terms of both financial and political support, it is very important. I wish I could do more for my partner. I want to be more than just his quiet hometown; I want to walk alongside him.

Thomas managed to calm me down, but I was still reluctant to leave. Though old grudges make me, I still recall my duties. had no choice but to flee for a while. He was powerless to stop me, and so he agreed to let me keep doing what I was doing before. "Tommy, you're rich now, and a baroness works for you as your secretary. ", said Arthur. An infectious disease claimed the life of Ada's husband, Freddie Thorne.

Thomas, who was once friends with Thorne, spoke at his funeral as promised and was sincere afterwards. Ada was invited to bring Carl and live with him at his house. Ada was unconcerned. Since she was no longer Shelby or Thorne, she claimed to be free. I was compelled to give her a bear hug after recognizing the tremor in her voice.

Ada and Thorne got married out of love, but they were divorced for a long time because of unimportant issues and conflicts. The sporadic running-in nevertheless transformed the vivacious young woman into a frazzled single mother. She was angry, but I could tell she was feeling relieved.

I want Ada to know that even though she hasn't forgiven Tommy yet, we will always be related. The seven-year itch, that is. As I turned to look at Thomas after watching Ada walk away, I muttered, ". "us. Should this occur again in the future? As soon as we were combined with honey, we did not think twice about leaving our family; today, we are disgusted with one another and feel relieved.

Tommy gave me a puzzled look as if he were attempting to understand what was going through my mind. There's no need for you to fret all the time. Tommy gave me an irritated glare. "It's something you want, isn't it? I'll return to London the following day. I tried to change the subject while lowering my head to avoid his stare. "Um. ". "Give me Ada's address, and I'll look after her in London," he said. ". "Um. ". ". ". ". ". ". Tommy, I adore you. ". "……Um. ". Once more, he grinned. It's like a young child who needs to be encouraged when he's upset!

#cillian murphy #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby imagine #fanfiction #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic

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