Jenna Ortega X Female Reader - Tumblr Posts

be my baby, t.r.

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: in which you show your love for jenna in your own way

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: fluff hooray!

a/n: heard this line from my headphones while i was scanning my notes and immediately went for my drafts. just a drabble if you may

masterlist.

When people think of a sacred place, they'd think of something related to religion of some sort. A place of worship and compassion to another, maybe a deity. Or they'd think of something they cherished, the place that they hope one day see in their life after death and see the wonderful memories they'd have.

You were none of the ordinary.

Your sacred place was Jenna. Her soul was everything you wanted. She was everything you needed.

Everyday, she would see through you. Your pride, your anger, your selfishness, and how she accepts you for who you are even for your flaws. How your happiness often shined so bright whenever you were with her. How the stars would shine just for her to be in the spotlight, be the center of everything. Oh, how you were so devoted to her was something beyond you.

Hence why your favorite time of the day is waking up beside her, sliding your arm in between her body, and hugging her as if she were being taken away from you if not for your arms grounding her.

You shifted your weight towards her, your legs going in between hers as you hugged her even tighter. She always smelled like home and the subtle scent of her favorite perfume with a hint of yours, you noticed.

The faint music from Jenna's headphones filled the air, feeling your eyes slowly getting heavy as you nudged your head onto her nape, closing your eyes in full bliss but never slept.

Ever since you moved to her apartment, you saw how Jenna always slept with headphones on, only for it to be way too tangled and off her ears when she wakes up.

Your hands found Jenna's, intertwining them as you looked over her shoulder, the action being reciprocated when you felt her fingers close around your hand. Even when she was asleep, she always held you back as if you were a distant star coming to earth.

The morning sun always complimented Jenna so well, the warmth of the sun casting a gentle glow on her features, how her brown eyes are all what you wish to see, showing you everything there is to true beauty. It is as if she was another celestial object far from a mere mortal with how your world orbited around her very being, how effortlessly she could make every living and dying poet forever ink her name in their pages.

You were about to fall asleep until you heard a quiet groan and her body stirring awake. As Jenna shifted beside you, your arms were still wrapped around her body, loosening as she turned to face you.

"Hey." She whispered. Her fingers tracing patterns across your own hand as she blinked away her drowsiness, a loopy smile gracing her lips. "I thought you'd be up by now."

"I am." You gave her a soft smile while she gave you an unimpressed look, but her smile never wavered.

"I meant off the bed and do whatever you normally do."

"You know I'll always wait for you," you replied in a hushed tone, your hand coming close to her face as you brushed a stray strand of hair away, your thumb gently caressing her freckles.

"I know," she whispered as she nodded, her morning voice always something so familiar to you. "Just thought you'd have a change of heart."

"I'd be a fool to." You met Jenna's eyes with a smile, your gaze going back and forth from her eyes to her lips. Your hand resting on her face traveled to her back, pulling her in closer.

Jenna let out a soft sigh, "Aren't you the smooth talker," she murmured. Her hand finding its way to your cheek, her touch gentle and reassuring as your heart swelled with the sight and love that was Jenna.

You raised your eyebrow, "I'm serious about it."

Jenna laughed. She laughed. Oh, how it made your heart instantly recognize the pattern of her laughter.

"I can tell, don't worry." She said, looking into your eyes with the same expression you had. It was a small gesture, waiting for your lover to wake up in the morning, but it was everything to you. And maybe even to Jenna if not a lot more. She leaned in, pecking you on the lips, "And I love you for it."

You can feel your eyes soften, the subtle rise and fall of Jenna's chest against yours as the warmth of her hand rests on your cheek.

You allowed your eyes to drop down to her lips before leaning in and planting a gentle kiss to her soft lips. The very faint scent of her chapstick from yesterday still lingered as you held Jenna's hand on your face, tracing her knuckles with your thumb.

You pulled away before leaning in and placing another kiss to her lips. "I love you too."

Your hand pulled hers away from your face, intertwining them before kissing her yet again. "I love you more."

"I love you most." You whispered softly as your mind captured the look on Jenna's face that was adorned with pure love. Both of your hands reached to cup her face, kissing her once more, feeling the warmth of her breath against yours.

You can feel Jenna smile against your lips, the gesture driving you to insanity with devotion for this girl.

The both of you pulled away from the kiss, your eyes meeting Jenna's as your heart raptured with laughter as she laughed alongside it. The sound itself making you want to record it deep inside your soul forever.

"What was that about?" She chuckled.

"For every kiss you give me, I'll give you three. The Ronettes." You quoted, a smirk gracing your lips as the faint sounds of her playlist started to play all over again.

Ever since Jenna introduced you to her music taste, you were blasting it non-stop. Though it wasn't exactly the music Jenna would listen to, it was like the one of the many music that you found in her taste in genre and you loved it as much as you loved her presence.

"You liked it?" She mumbled, a hopeful tune in her voice. Another thing you noticed about Jenna is that she loved recommending her own interests to other people and you came to adore that so much.

"Who am I to deny my talented girlfriend with her music taste?"

She chuckled, sitting up straight as she pulled you up towards her, wrapping her arms around your body. "Flattery gets you nowhere."

"Then how come I'm right here in your arms?" You looked up at her, a small smile playing on your lips that seemed to never go away whenever you were with her.

"I don't know," she shrugged nonchalantly, "you tell me."

Jenna's arms around you felt like home, a sacred place you'd always come here after a day or even a decade. It was a place where you belonged to, the embrace that would last along with the faint music that was still playing in the background. In her arms, peace is never a fleeting moment but rather something that'll always keep your heart warm.

Another thing is for sure: you were her one and only, and you'd adore her till eternity.

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a/n: feel like im slowly getting the motivation to write more

Hi, just wanna say I love your stuff! I was wondering if you’d do a Jenna x reader who is the daughter of Winona Ryder and Jenna meets her on the set of Beetlejuice 2. Winona acting as a wing woman for Jenna.

head over heels, your hand over mine

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: ^ request!

Words: 5.0k

Warnings: longer than i intended it to be

a/n: first of all... tysm!!! and second of all, thank you for the request!! means alot to me and i wrote it to the best of my abilities, hope you'll like it!!!

seq. || masterlist

Shit, shit, shit...

Jenna cursed under her breath as she practically hammered down the first-floor button as if that was going to make it go faster.

She glanced over to the indicator right above the door, the numbers slowly inching towards the ground floor. Her foot kept directing her side to side in the elevator, a stressed back-and-forth pace she caught herself on all while she gripped the Beetlejuice 2 script right in her hands, the paper almost being punctured with holes and such.

Jenna could almost blame herself for this.

Actually, she does. She damned herself so much she wouldn't be surprised if she got hit by a bus, really.

It wasn't any other day you'd get a role in Beetlejuice, 2, might she add, and even landing the role of the daughter of Winona Ryder who is possibly one of the most outstanding actresses out there and a 90s icon.

And now she's just slightly fucking it up with first impressions with how she's atleast 10 minutes late to their set because she spent her entire night in reading and rereading the script over and over until she perfected her lines to the point it's probably better if she'd just make Beetlejuice herself.

When the doors slid open, Jenna bolted out until she made her way to the entrance, her hand tightly clutching that damn script and her other gripping the strap of her bag.

Fumbling with her phone to call an Uber, she couldn't help but grimace at the thousands upon thousands of texts saying that she was late and her alarm clocks repeatedly being turned on to snooze just minutes before.

Of course, this day of all days just so happened to be the day that the universe decided that it had a grudge on Jenna for whatever reason because all Ubers were somehow booked and it would probably take atleast 30 minutes for another one.

So, like the hardworking actress she is determined to get a first impression even with punctuality falling behind her, she ran.

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It wasn't long, thank-fucking-god, till Jenna got to set. She slowed her pace a little when she saw the cameras and people surrounding a particular area.

She took a moment to compose herself as she approached them, smoothing down her pants and fixing her hair all while she tried to catch her breath before possibly collapsing on the ground. The crew members spared her a glance, how comforting, even if they all had concerned looks on their faces.

Jenna always worked with such talented actors and directors, and now here she was working with Winona Ryder meanwhile she was looking like she ran a marathon on the side while going to set.

"You're here!" Winona called out, lowering the script in her hands while she offered a warm smile. "We almost thought there were some complications in your schedule."

The young actress offered a sheepish smile, embarrassment flowing in her mind as she offered a weak hand gesture. "I'm so sorry, all Ubers were somehow booked and I woke up late." She admitted before introducing herself. "I'm Jenna. Ortega." She added.

Winona chuckled, "No worries. The tech team is sorting out some equipment issues, so it's a bit of free time right now." She explained, offering a handshake. "Winona Ryder. Your mother. Well, on-screen." She joked while Jenna laughed with it.

"God, sorry if I look worn out. I really admire your work, it's all so amazing." Jenna took her hand, reciprocating the gesture. She was almost going to add something until a figure approached Winona, looking like a split-perfect resemblance of her. And oh how she did the fastest double-take in her whole life.

"Oh, right!" Winona pulled, possibly the most prettiest and gorgeous, girl Jenna has laid eyes on in her 21 years of continuous breathing by the shoulders and pushed her in front of the young actress. Now life without you suddenly looks like something she just completely wasted her precious time on.

Just by looking at Winona and how excitement reflected in her eyes, Jenna could tell how much she beamed with pride for her daughter; it made her heart swell.

"Meet my daughter, Y/n."

There were things Jenna should do when she meets someone. She introduces herself in a calm manner and maybe engage in some friendly talk with them whether if it's the most awkward-est thing in her life or one of the moments she'd like to spend forever in.

What she shouldn't do is slowly have a mid-introduction nosebleed, completely throw out the knowledge that she has the ability to speak and say words while her mouth is half-agape and her eyes wide and never blinking. This rule seems to be more strict when she's convinced she has met the love of your life.

It's safe to say that Jenna checked all the boxes on the latter.

Jenna met your gaze, and oh how that was the stupidest decision she had ever made in her entire life. She felt a blush creep up her cheeks, breath caught in her throat, she tried to speak for a second but nothing came. It was like she was drowning but in the best way possible. And also falling head over heels in the worst way possible.

It's concerning how she almost wants to drop down and marry you on the spot; she's already rehearsing her vows inside her brain.

Jenna raised her hand, a shaky one at that, to offer a handshake. "I'm Jenny," she managed to squeak out, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at fumbling her own damn name. "I mean, Jenna! Sorry, not Jenny. I'm Jenna. Jenna Ortega." Oh, fuck, please just slit my throat already.

In every bad and awkward introduction, there's always someone from the other line slightly concerned but plays with it.

Your eyes crinkled, a bright sight to see that would put all sunrises to shame, and your lips parted like how the clouds part after a gloomy day, letting out a laugh that calmed Jenna's heart almost immediately. It was still running and skipping a fuck ton of beats per second, but your laugh seemed to warm it all.

"I'm Y/n, of course." You held Jenna's faltering eye contact as you reciprocated her gesture, "I'm really only here to accompany my mom," you explained. Please stay here forever. Better yet, be with me. Jenna almost said.

You shook her hand in the most softest way possible, her palm fitting right into yours. "Can't believe I met you, honestly." Jenna heard you mutter under your breath, a squeal following it.

Oh, if falling head over heels over you was a sin, she'd gladly be the epitome of something so mortal.

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And that was only a week ago. Just imagine how much internal panic she goes through whenever she sees you now.

Jenna repeatedly cursed under her breath, staring at the reflection of herself in the mirror as she gripped the cold parts of the sink, glaring at herself in complete thought.

Almost so serious as if her mind wasn't battling with something so completely stupid she'd rather drown in self-pity and misery.

Jenna Ortega, deemed as America's #1 IT girl who practically swooned all seven continents by now, almost had a near anaphylactic shock when her hand grazed over yours and how you gave her possibly the most sweetest and soul-crushing smile with that stupidest crinkle in your eye to ever exist on this damned earth, holy fuck.

Why should she be so head over heels for you?

She lowered her head in defeat, a heavy sigh escaping her as the same image of your smile flickered in her mind, and now a stupid grin from your stupid image graced her lips.

It was only a week in being on the Beetlejuice set, and she damn near lost her mind.

You were always there, well of course you were there since you were Winona Ryder's daughter, but she didn't expect to be so obsessed with you to the point she needs to go to the bathroom to silently scream whenever she hears or sees your intoxicating smile.

It's sweet. Almost endearing to her.

As if she even has the right to even think about you in that way.

Jenna stepped outside, patting her hands dry by the hem of her shirt. her name already being called out by the directors, their voices only getting louder and louder until it dwindled down to nothing and she could only assume that Winona stopped them, it was still her break after all. She was almost like a real mother to her, a comforting one at that.

She started to take a pattern in her steps before she saw you sitting on the railings of the trailer. More importantly, Jenna's trailer.

Okay, she shouldn't have seen this as a sign from the universe that you liked her back, but she did and that was all the hope that the fate or whatever deity could do because she was too desperate and too drunk on the lack of attention and attraction you were giving her.

But how could she not do that when you look so perfect just being... you? Being everything she wanted? Needed? Just being so damn perfect almost feels like Jenna could die.

"You like my daughter, don't you."

Jenna looked behind her, the sudden voice that crept being Winona, the mother of the daughter she had been smitten for, a noticeable faint smile on her lips. It was more of a statement than a question. A fact, really.

Jenna could almost deny it if it wasn't so accurate. But what was she supposed to say? "Yes, I do like your daughter, in fact, I love her so much I would absolutely give up my very career to buy her the most expensive wedding ring to ever be created from the hands of a human, or even a Greek God perhaps, to show that she owns my entire heart, body, and soul."

Panic was evident, Winona could clearly tell by the way Jenna looked like was scramming to think up of a half-assed excuse.

"Yes—I mean, not like like. I love her, really. She's talented, hardworking, and passionate in the things she talks about. But that's really it; I love Y/n, in a friendly way." Jenna stammered. Even if she was spouting complete lies and nonsense about how she doesn't have a massive crush on you, her gaze was stuck on, of course, you yourself.

Winona arched an eyebrow, "Jenna, I know when someone is horribly in love with my daughter and who’s not."

"The both of you were always somehow joined together, even if none of you were talking. You’re always finding a reason to bring her up in a conversation even if no one was even talking about her. Also, everyone takes notice of how your gaze was always focused on Y/n. Even on scene, you couldn’t take your eyes off of her for a second."

Yeah, that seems about right.

Jenna sighed, her line of sight never laying off of you. It's amazing how you still haven't noticed she and your mother was staring at you like a bunch of stalkers.

"Y/n deserves someone like her, someone in her league," she turned around, now walking in the opposite direction to her original one. She almost sounded like a teenage boy who realized they couldn't get with the popular girl. "She looks like someone even from the heavens above couldn’t fathom they created her from their own mind and hands."

Winona's expression softened as she caught up to Jenna, now walking beside her. "If you, The Jenna Ortega, fail to get her attention and love then it's all over for us." She never heard someone talk so romantic about her daughter, it's truly unfair how the ones who love the most always fall short.

Jenna's steps slowed, her body slumping against the fall as her gaze was fixed on the ground. God, why was she acting like this over you?

The young actress nodded, her hands going up to her face and sliding them down as she spoke, "She's like this incredible and unattainable dream you want to continue after you wake up, Winona." She mumbled through her hands, "Y/n's gorgeous, gentle, charming, and just… perfect." She let go of her face, her hands now on her sides. "It's intimidating just by looking at her, knowing she's the essence of beauty and perfection. Like, how do you compete with that? Overall be someone who she wants to stick by her side?"

The actress observed the young one, Jenna's head down and fidgeting with her rings. Winona could almost say that this was the most vulnerable sight she ever saw from her. "You don't have to match her perfection, let alone measure yourself up to that; you just need to be the missing piece she didn't know she needed. "

Jenna took a deep breath, her head slowly rising, "I just don't want to mess it up. She deserves someone as awesome as her, and if she ever likes me back, I'm afraid of waking up and realizing I'm not enough for her to be someone she loves."

Winona tilted her head, crossing her arms, "Tell you what, I don't know much about my daughter now. She's not closed off, but she isn't open either." She could see how Jenna flicked her head upwards, listening attentively. "But I do know that she's been watching all of your movies and shows up to this point."

Jenna's eyes widened in surprise. She doesn't wanna take any risks, but she doesn't wanna lose any chances either. "She... she has?"

Winona nodded, a soft and warm smile playing on her lips, just like the one you always have if not more comforting.

"I could never hear the end of it. She says you have this genuine charm whenever you speak, you're calm but you're also being true to yourself. Y/n admires you so much, I almost get sick of it," she laughed that pulled a chuckle from Jenna. "You're perfect in her eyes, but that's not what she likes about you. She likes you because you're authentic, yourself." She reached out for Jenna's shoulders, giving it a reassuring squeeze, "I'll be your wingman. I'm sure you're the perfect girl for my daughter."

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And that was maybe two to three months ago.

Now Jenna's thinking that you might be the most oblivious person to ever roam this entire globe. She's been dropping hints everywhere you go and you still wouldn't catch up that she has feelings for you!

Ever since Jenna got into Winona's wing, she knew everything that makes you happy. Your music taste, what type of flowers you like, what type of outings you like, clothes, scents, foods, colors, even legos, just basically everything under the sun she gave to you within a heartbeat.

Jenna gives you flowers everyday, hell even bouquets if she's feeling fancy. Reads and writes you letters, and ever since Winona gave her your number, she's been sending you voicemails of your favorite songs every morning as some goodmorning text. She's been nothing but romantic to you! Was she just missing something?

The only thing that really progressed was something of strangers to friends. The two of you were as close as ever to the point if one of you were needed, somebody probably would need to surgically remove both of you.

But that was it! No nothing, just friends. It was selfish for Jenna to want something more when she has the love of her life close to her as a friend, sure, but she needed just a little bit more before she mentally goes insane.

"I mean, come on!" Jenna complained to Winona, sitting across from the other chair just right beside her trailer, script in her hands but she was paying more attention to Jenna. "Flowers, letters, voicemails… I'm practically screaming 'I like you' at this point." She slumped over the table, "or maybe she's just really ignoring them."

"I think you're thinking too deeply, Jenna," Winona stated, looking over to somewhere far, "maybe you should confess. She's right there."

Jenna was about to stand up and say it all out and die in a hole if she gets rejected until she realized you were wearing something so... fucking gorgeous? stunning? breathtaking? ethereal? She needed a stronger word than all words combined.

It wasn't your everyday casual wear, in fact, it was something you'd wear to go on a date. A date that meant something, a date that you'd go with another person and to confess their love.

Oh, don't fucking tell her she was too slow to confess and some random dude confessed earlier.

"I don't..." Jenna stammered, she could sense that agonizing feeling of her heart sinking, a stinging pain but it was mixed with immense pressure, like she was almost drowning. "I don't really think it's the right time."

Winona let out a sympathetic sigh, "she did tell me that she was going somewhere important." She waved in your direction, grabbing your attention. "Y/n!"

Jenna didn't know it was possible to drown without having any bodies of water near you, now she was fully experiencing it by how her heart sank even further as she heard Winona's words.

She shouldn't be surprised, after all, somebody actually had the guts and mindset to actually confess to you personally without having to hide behind a facade and without having to drop a fuck ton of hints instead of saying it out loud.

It stung. Thinking that someone out there was that one for you. And how that someone was never Jenna. But it was sweet. She winced.

Jenna couldn't shake the pang and sting of disappointment as she watched to walk over to Winona, a smile on your lips like you've met the most wonderful person to ever be in your life. She couldn't read if it was real, and she hoped to God it was fake.

"What's with the get-up?" Winona asked, standing up while giving Jenna the look.

"Going on a date with this guy, he asked me." You smiled, yet again, but it was even brighter.

Yeah, she figured. When did she even assume that you liked women anyway?

"Can I borrow your car, mom, please?" You asked of her, your puppy eyes going in action while you mentally crossed your fingers.

Jenna wasn't the one to brag, but she could drive a car! Not that idiot guy who couldn't even take whatever vehicle to fetch her as a nice gesture. Hell, it was a date for godsakes!

Winona sighed, glancing between Jenna and you. "Sure, you can borrow the car," she stated before digging into her pockets and fetching her car keys, plotting it down to your hands, "but make sure to bring it back in one piece."

Jenna bit her lip, suppressing the urge to completely pull herself out of her chair and scream 'I love you so goddamn much, Y/n! Can't you see I'm the one for you and not some guy who couldn't even go the mile to drive you to the damn date!?' But no. Instead, she stayed in her seat, nodded as a goodbye, and forced yet another smile.

"Thanks for the flowers by the way, Jenna! I should really pay you back sometime." You chuckled, before hugging her head as your way of goodbye. "I'll tell you all about it when I get home."

"Don't worry about the flowers. No need to pay me back," Jenna replied, doing her damn best to keep her tone light and her knuckles not so light. As you hugged her, Jenna couldn't help but savor the moment, imagining that it wasn't a goodbye to go off on some date with some random dude but rather a lovely gesture. "I'll be waiting to hear all about it."

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That was atleast three to five hours ago.

Jenna never knew how a 2$ caesar salad bought from a suspicious vendor on the sidewalks could be so depressing but still mock her on how she just lost the love of her life to someone who actually had the guts to confess until she actually experienced it.

It was a slow day on set. Probably because it was already so late at night. There were still some scenes being recorded, but most of it was Winona's.

So along those hours when Jenna wasn't with you or she couldn't text you through the phone, all she could really do was stare from afar and hope that you'd magically have some miraculous change of mind mid-date and maybe you'll soon believe and realize Jenna was the one for you after all.

Of course, life wasn't like a damn movie and that damn date was still going to happen no matter what she does.

Winona sat beside Jenna, offering a sympathetic look at how Jenna was poking around her lettuce. "You know that's her quote-on-quote I don't really give two shits outfit but I still need to look good for a requirement that is people's feelings."

Jenna let go of her fork, damn even it looked sad. "But she looks beautiful."

Winona could almost roll her eyes if not for the young actress wallowing in her own thoughts. "It's because you're head over heels for her, Jenna. She could wear some obnoxious color-clashing clothes and she'd still look like a goddess for you."

Jenna sighed, picking up her fork again and halfheartedly stabbing a folded lettuce leaf. "I mean, don't you?" she asked, glancing at Winona. "You're her mother."

Winona shrugged, "Her clothes, her choice, but I still absolutely would not." She laughed, and her smile brightened when Jenna allowed a smile to crack through her lips.

Jenna could almost face-plant herself into the salad bowl if not for a notification pinging in Winona's phone. A notification that Winona only applied for you.

"...Or you could tell her that she's much better off with you rather than some guy that stood her up." Winona showed the phone to Jenna, your message illuminating on the screen.

y/n

mom can u pick me up? karaoke room 217 stood up on me lol come quick, pls. thx

Jenna would've been lying if she said she wasn't jumping, screaming, throwing up in literal joy.

Well, of course, she was mad that you of all people were stood up, but she was semi-glad that you were.

Jenna's urgency was visible as she scrambled to get out of her seat, grabbing her bag with such hast and making a sudden beeline for the exit.

"Tell her that you can't go! I wanna surprise her," She yelled to Winona, her excitement in her voice echoing through the room. It's almost weird and insane how happy she was about how you were stood up.

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You waited for 2 hours.

It wasn't disappointing. You already knew it was just some sort of dare or a prank that one of his friends pulled, but you showed up anyway. Not like because you wanted to play with his feelings; you couldn't do that if you didn't have any.

In fact, you had feelings for Jenna.

Ever since she showed up on your screen, she was the only actress you could ever think about. She was charming, alluring, the only person who could make the daylight so dark if her smile was out of place.

You didn't know her, personally then, but you loved her. You were willing to start wars with the world, may it be against you or may all odds and fate oppose you, you’d do everything for her even if it kills you to be someone who would take all her hidden suffering and plead for tears with your palms locked and thrown away.

And now that you were working with her on set, you couldn't help but be someone you're not. All thanks to you and your mother on reluctantly giving up on the idea of not bringing you to set. You wanted to confess, you really did. It was just a silly little crush like you'd always have but this one with Jenna seemed real and your life would've ended if your feelings were rejected.

Though, even after all that, Jenna was the one you wanted to be with. The one you hoped would walk through that damn door and hug you until your worries and thoughts all disappeared, only met with her voice and her comforting arms.

That would've been a fleeting memory, wishful thinking. That is until the very girl that made you go insane rushed into the room.

What the fuck.

She was exhausted, you could tell by her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of her; looking like she had gone the extra mile and maybe even drove a car on the way instead of running, just to be there with you. You could almost start laughing and be that snarky person you've always been to her if not for everything else fading into the background until Jenna was the only one left.

Without hesitation, she pulled you into a tight embrace, wrapping her arms around your body as she tightened the hug as if you'd die if she ever let go of your body. The warmth of her touch, the comfort in her soul, and her very being brought something so grand as you hugged her back. You feared that letting go would mean losing her forever, and she thought the same way.

"I love you." She murmured on your shoulders, closing her eyes. You notice how her voice cracked with vulnerability and almost sorrow as you tightened your hold on her.

"I love you," she whispered yet again, as if you didn't hear her the firs time. "I love you, I love you, I just love you." She dug her head under your neck, her breath warm on your skin as you waited for her to finish.

You could feel Jenna's heartbeat against your chest, fast and beating while it synced with your own. "I love you, Y/n. You don’t know how many lifetimes I would kill myself for you to look into my soul, everything beneath, and even the darkest parts of my heart so then you’ll see how I perceive you to be everything I look for. I can't understand how you don't understand how much you mean to me. How much your laughter was something I didn't know would be the cure to whatever terminal illness I had in life, your actions being my motivation, your soul being my guiding light, and your smile being something so bright that not even the sun could beat its glory."

Jenna slowly pulled away from you, her eyes searching yours for a reaction. The room was always so silent, but it never felt like it was the funeral of sound itself.

"I'm sorry—That—That wasn't... I didn't—" she stammered, her body already getting up and pulling away from you.

Gently, you reached out and cupped her face with your hands, your thumbs brushing away the newly formed tears that had welled up in her eyes and dripped from her cheeks. You could feel the warmth of her skin beneath your touch, her freckles, and everything that made Jenna her was right beneath your palm. You want nothing but to cherish it.

You couldn't think of a reply. You could, but it would never beat the confession Jenna had for you. It was more than a mere confession, but something out of a book that would put every writer to shame.

"Is this okay?" Your eyes searched for Jenna's consent in hers as you leaned in ever so slightly, her breath lingering on your skin until Jenna's lips met yours in a hesitant, gentle kiss. The touch of her soft lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, her hands coming up to cradle your face as she melted into you while your own hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened.

Life felt like something you wasted without her lips touching yours. How you felt everything and how you were everything under her soft touch, her presence. It was if every moment before her had been leading to this one. Every heartbeat, every breath, every time you've experienced something happy, sad, or even something conflicted was building up to the moment your lips finally met hers. You felt whole, alive, reassured, and comforted.

Her touch felt like a warm embrace from something so indestructible, a star so far away that only you could see it shine from afar but yet you could feel every inch of its presence.

Then it stopped. The both of you pulled back.

But your heart never did.

"You know I asked for your mom to be my wingman."

"Please don't destroy this moment we have by mentioning my mom, Jenna. I'm serious."

Jenna chuckled, her eyes twinkling, "give her some credit. I never would've confessed to you without her."

You couldn't help but smile, realizing she was still the Jenna you fell in love with. "I guess, but I don't really want to talk about my mom after I just got stood up and then kissed the girl I love."

Jenna's chuckle turned into a soft giggle, her hand finding it's way to your palm as she intertwined her fingers with yours. "Also, for the record, that guy was an idiot."

You nodded after shared laughter. With everything that's going around between the two of you, you almost miss how Winona arrived just in time. Standing by the door with a smile on her face.

But even with Jenna's hand over yours, she'd still fall head over heels for you.

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just some fuckass aftermath dialogues:

W: "You finally confessed." J: "Did she tell you?" W: "Well for one she's been awfully cheery and gave me a questioning I love you mom and offered me to go shopping with her."

Omg hi! Do you think you would ever do a sequel to head over heels, your hand over mine? Maybe where Jenna proposes?

your hand over mine, my ring over yours

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: ^ request!!

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: damn this is shorter than what i expected

a/n: the obvious answer is yes i (do) will!!

prev. || masterlist.

"Why did you say yes to him anyway?" Jenna's voice, now your girlfriend (awesome as hell, you may add), echoed over the room. Mic in between both of her hands as she sways side to side over you.

The both of you decided to stay in the karaoke booth for a while, it was a waste of money after all. Your money, might you add. The guy didn't even bother to pay for it!

You shrugged, watching her figure fall into place beside you, a song chosen by Jenna playing in the background. "I needed to move on from you. It was clear I didn't have a chance."

Jenna's eyes narrowed, you could see her eyebrows crinkling even in the dimly lit room. "Move on? Didn't have a chance?"

You nodded, almost laughing at how the mic was still in direct contact with her lips, you were avoiding direct eye contact but it was so clear that Jenna was fuming.

"I seriously can't believe there's someone out there so oblivious and it's you." You heard her chuckle, yet her voice was soft. You expected her to get mad at you by the way she started her sentence, but you forgot she was the one who ran (not really) over here and confessed to you all so abruptly.

"Weren't the flowers and hundreds of letters mailed to your doorstep enough to hint that I liked you?"

You scratched your head, a sheepish smile playing on your lips. "Okay, in my defense, I just thought you were being extra friendly. Who wouldn't want a friend who sends flowers and letters, right?"

Jenna shook her head, letting go of the mic and crossing her arms. "I was practically spelling it out. All that was missing was dropping down on one knee and proposing to you."

You raised an eyebrow, "hey to be fair, my mom was the one who gave you the motivation."

Jenna shrugged, nodding her head with a smile. "Yeah, I owe her one."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That was five years ago.

Now it was your 5th anniversary with Jenna.

You lay at your bed with Jenna’s headphones on, staring at the ceiling for God knows how long, doing your best to fall asleep without Jenna’s warmth and presence beside you. It was difficult, difficult than it should be. You were the daughter of the Winona Ryder, damn it! Why couldn’t you go for months without the love of your life by your side.

Ever since you and Jenna got together, everyone was, of course, not surprised but they were happy nonetheless. Hell, you even took up acting just because you can be one of Jenna’s love interests in a movie. Of course, that could be a hassle for the directors whenever it was a kissing scene. They have to yell “cut!” In front of your faces to get the both of you to stop.

Now you couldn’t help but wallow in your own sadness because there weren’t two arms wrapped around your waist and a familiar warmth along your bed for the past and next two months.

All day, you've been binging Jenna's interviews, shows, and movies to the point you can rehearse them in the back of your head.

The room felt emptier without Jenna's presence. You noticed how she was returning so late at night, how her filming dates often varied so random you couldn't even be there or keep track, how she took up almost any part she was given to her, how she often came home looking so overworked and stress you couldn't even talk to her without fearing that she'd blow up on you. And now she's all the way across the country to film another movie.

The film industry often meant sacrificing personal time apart from the holidays, and Jenna seemed to be giving it all.

Yet she always gives you that damn smile, you couldn't possibly think she's falling out of love. But it still worried you why she was doing all of this.

She was hardworking and passionate, it was part of what made her so lovable, but you couldn't help but worry about how it was affecting her.

You sat on the edge of the bed, lost in thought, you could text or call her but you knew it wasn't going to be seen for atleast another three to four hours. You didn't doubt her love, it was one of the many things you couldn't, but the worry was still there.

That was until you got a notification.

j 🤍🎧

i missed u too yn o right can u check outside for a minute? i think i mailed a package outside your room might be beside the living room, i asked them to deliver it there personally seen, 11:44 PM

The only thought that ran across your mind was 'They can do that?'

Slipping on a pair of slippers, you made your way to the living room, your steps being pulled down by whatever weight that was on your shoulders.

Jenna's message made you happy, of course, the distance seemed a little bit smaller but you couldn't help but wish she said something more than requesting you to pick up her package. Maybe a simple little 'I love you and happy anniversary' would have been something to put you at ease.

As you turned the doorknob and stepped into the living room, the fluorescent light shining from the living room made your eyes burn like hell. You squinted, but that didn't really help, you tried to adjust to the light, putting your palm above your eyes.

"Why is she always across the country," you murmured to yourself, "why are you like this, Jenna?" Your voice started to get louder and louder once you started to speak to yourself even more. You were going insane, that's the most part, but who wouldn't. "Why couldn't you just choose a project closer to home for once..." It was selfish to ask for, too selfish to make Jenna choose you over her career, but you couldn't help it.

"Does she even love me..." Your voice trailed off when you turned the corner to the living room.

Oh, what the actual fuck.

It would be an understatement to say that the living room had been turned upside down. Everything was lit up, and everything was rearranged. Hell, there was a fucking balloon arch with Jenna at the center of it all while the couches were pushed back as if it was an aisle to a wedding ceremony.

Damn, were you that depressed to the point you couldn't even hear what the fuck was going on outside your room for Jenna to transform it into this?

You couldn't say anything. Every word that was about to come out of your mouth left before your mind can even process what was happening.

Without uttering a single word, you ran towards her, your heart pounding in your chest you wouldn't be surprised if you'd have a mid-crisis heart attack. You wrapped your arms around Jenna as if she was something so untouchable, burying your face in her neck as you melted within her presence, her scent mixing in with hers as she took a step back to hold you dearly.

Her comforting warmth was a fix even you can’t tolerate. Jenna was in your arms like before, her body fitting perfectly against yours, her soul reminding you why you were alive up until this point.

Your grip on her tightened, holding on to her as tears slowly started to stain her clothes, clinging onto Jenna as if she were a mirage about to disappear from your desperate arms.

"I missed you too." Jenna's voice broke through you, your tears coming in further. Her voice was soft and tender, coming as a whisper that soothed your troubles.

"How? Why?" You murmured, your voice mumbled and tear-streaked as you lifted your head to face her. Puffy eyes and all because of your crying. "Why are you here?" Your voice cracked, "I thought you wouldn't be back for another two months." You searched for something in Jenna's eyes, something that you longed to see once again.

Jenna gently wiped away a tear from your cheek, you missed how her touch was the most reassuring thing in the world. "I heard that Winona was out of the country for filming, and it's our anniversary." It was so little for the explanation but it said everything.

You pulled back once Jenna started rummaging out of her pocket, you watch Jenna pull out a small box.

Wait, holy fuck.

"Jenna, holy shit, is that—"

"Yes, yes it is that." She chuckled, nonchalantly, as if she didn’t just swoon you for the millionth time in the past minute, turned your living room into a makeshift wedding ceremony, and is now proposing to you.

"You can't be serious. Jenna if this is just some joke I'm actually breaking up with you."

"No, no, y/n! Of course it's not. I'm being completely serious."

She fiddled with the box, not opening it yet as you stood there with eyes wide open.

"I'm sorry," she began, her voice vulnerable and sincere as she looked up to you, "I'm sorry I haven't been around. I'm sorry I keep coming back home looking stressed, I'm sorry I took up too many auditions and movies that I can hold myself up to, I'm sorry I couldn't spare even a single minute of my time loving you as much as I did before, I'm sorry I made you worry countless of times, more than I can count even. I'm sorry I haven't been the partner you deserve."

She continued, on and on until tears welled up in your eyes once more. "I know I've been distant, I know I've caused pain in you for the past months, maybe even years and I know I've let my career consume me."

"I don't have any excuses for it." Her voice dwindled, almost cracking as she looked up, trying not to cry as she laughed. "But I did all of it for a ring that would bind us forever. It's not the—"

You couldn't help but push your lips against hers, cutting her sentence off. You missed this. How your pain went away with a kiss.

"It's the perfect excuse."

Her vulnerability touched your heart, she had never been more vulnerable to you than now, you gently reached out to gently wipe away the tears that had begun to fall from her eyes. "Jenna, it's okay," you reassured her as you noticed her lips started to tremble. "I understand. I understand all of it, all of you."

Jenna's gaze met yours once she started to calm down. And there you saw it, something you searched for in her eyes ever since she landed on your doorstep this evening. Devotion.

You kissed her once more, whispering, "You know how many people would kill to be your wife?" You didn't let her open the box just yet, you held back. You know she has more to say.

Jenna, with tears of joy still glistening in her eyes, chuckled at your words. "You'd die and kill. That's the difference between you and others. You'd die for our love, and you'd fight for it with everything you have, and I think that's morbidly fascinating." She explained, "and what do you mean?"

"I'm saying that are you sure you want to marry me? I mean, there are so many people in the world you haven't met." You explained, your lips trembling.

"I could meet all of them in a single file and yet, you would still be the one who enchants me," Jenna replied, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"I love too much."

"I'll let you pour all your loving on me, or love everyone in the world but me. Just stay by my side. That's all I ask."

"I cry too easily. Over the simplest of things."

"I'll let you cry an ocean that surrounds every inch of you and I'd swim across everything."

"I get mad more often than not."

"I'll let you throw storms my way, express your angry through disasters upon disasters and I'll be there for all eternity even if it kills me."

"I doubt myself too much. I don't even know if I love myself."

"I'll let you love yourself before you have a chance to love me. Doubt may knock on your door, but I'll be there to answer."

"I can be difficult to handle."

"I'll let you be someone you're not at times. I'll be the one to show understanding and how to love yourself before loving me yet again.

"I'm scared of losing you, too scared for you to even love me that much."

"Then let me take your hand, and let me show you that my love couldn't waver over. Even at death I'll call his name and let me live once more with you. I'll wish in every star that in every universe, we are together. I want you to see that I'm not going anywhere."

"You know you'd eventually drown if my love for you was an ocean."

"Then let me die," Jenna whispered, a smile gracing both of your lips, her eyes filled with that same devotion and commitment you saw five years ago.

You chuckled,"We have odd ways of saying I love yous."

"Well, I am proposing to you in your living room late at night. It's accounted for." Jenna laughed softly along with you, her eyes sparkling with affection as she leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, your mouth curving into a smile as she did so.

"Reminds me that you haven't said those five words yet."

"Oh right."

"Y/n," she got down on one knee, her hand on top of the box as she prepared to open it, "You're one marvelous, just spectacular girl I've ever met. I'm so fucking happy Winona decided to tag you along that day," she chuckled.

"Every chore wouldn't be the same without your presence by my side, and my presence beside yours, I don't want to ever imagine that. My heart surrendered to your precious eyes, and I say it truly from the deepest depths of my heart that it has no plans of bail. Wherever you go, I follow. I don't want you to be the only one suffering a burden that would eventually kill you, I don't want you to be alone in your times of darkness. So please, let me be the one who will carry your burdens, your sadness, your everything. Let me be the one who will scar and carve my heart and skin for you to dump your sadness and let me carry it with a proud heart. When I die, my spirit will do everything in its power to regain the same feeling when I was alive with you. How does one understand the great love you've given me that would last millions of lifetimes, y/n? You became the reason why I now wake up with a smile, and why I became the happiest version of myself. And now, I can't think of a better grave of eternal slumber than in your beloved arms. Thank you."

The sincerity in her words left a big hole in your heart, but it was nothing but mere content and happiness. Tears welled up in your eyes as she spoke.

"Will you, Y/N/L/N, marry me?" Jenna opened the box, the ring almost blinding your eyes. Ethereal was out of the question to describe it, it was too marvelous for words. It was diamond, of course, but it had other gems that symbolized something more than love.

"Yes. Yes, Jenna!" you exclaimed, "Yes, I will." You could almost say that a million times and not get tired of it. Especially when Jenna is looking at you as if you held the stars and the moon with your bare hands.

She chuckled, standing up as she waited for you to offer your hand. "Isn't it yes I do?"

You grinned, it was an understatement to say that your heart was brimming with pure joy and happiness. "When it comes to you, it's definitely not." You offered your hand to Jenna, her fingers tracing your hand as she delicately placed the ring on your finger. It felt like a promise because it was. You gazed at it with awe, it was more than a piece of jewelry on your hands, it was Jenna. It was Jenna entirely. Her person, her love, her soul, her everything on your hand.

"You look simply gorgeous. Oh my God, I can't believe I'm marrying you," Jenna squealed, her happiness infectious and heartwarming.

"That's my line," you jokingly laughed. "And isn't it gorgeous?"

"No, you're gorgeous. The ring is just a bonus," Jenna replied, staring at you instead of the ring she probably spent hundreds of sleepless nights over. How this woman loves you was beyond anything of human comprehension.

"I love you so much, even you, Jenna Ortega, couldn't describe it." You wrapped your arms around her waist, sealing the deal with a kiss on her lips once again. You never got tired of it.

"I love you too."

You pulled away, a smile lingered on your lips, knowing that no matter how many times you kissed Jenna, it would never be enough to represent the love you had for her.

With your hand over hers, and her ring over your finger, you couldn't imagine a life without her anymore.

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a/n: i finished reading 7 husbands of evelyn hugo the other day and i cried so much. its such a great book!! i might do a story based off of it. i just dont know what jo characters should i do for the pairing

Hi, love your writing! I have a request where reader and Jenna are in a long distance relationship and reader decides to surprise Jenna after hearing Jenna’s been having a tough week filming or something. Just something along those lines haha

a flight away

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: ^^ request!!!

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: bittersweet

a/n: first of all,, thank you so much!!!! and second of all, ill try my best! hope this is to ur liking anon

masterlist

You didn't know what you were getting into the first thing in the morning when you checked your phone at exactly 6:34 AM.

Normally, you'd do the routine where you stare at your wallpaper (it was a picture of Jenna) for a good 20 minutes before internally dying inside because of why should she be such a hardworking woman to the point you only get to see her for about 1-2 months before leaving again, but then fall in love with her like it was the first time for that exact reason entirely.

Now, you woke up to Jenna's notifications flooding her digital face, more voicemails and missed calls rather than messages.

Obviously, you panicked out of your fucking mind.

You knew she was safe in Ireland where she was filming season 2 of Wednesday. She has more bodyguards around her than people trying to get her autograph, and she has her co-stars with her at all times.

She was safe. Safe. The word almost sounded like a prayer you repeated in your head as you eyed her messages.

You couldn't open the voicemail for the reasons that you might hear an announcement that Jenna has got into some serious shit and might need to be hospitalized and you absolutely need to be there for her right now.

But after 5 minutes of going through all stages of grief, you pressed play.

You were not expecting Jenna to outright scream at her phone in the middle of the night.

"Y/n. Y/n, I—God, I don't even know where to start with this. I'm just so… so tired. From everything, from everyone. I don't know why, seriously, I don't know why but i just—I just broke down when I came back to my apartment."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I have to message you like this in the middle of the night. I'm doing well in Ireland, but I'm having such a rough fucking time in shooting every scene. It's not like I hate everyone on the set, I love them, I… I don't know."

"I need you, please Y/n. Even if it's just your voice, just please give me a piece of your presence. I need something to hold on, someone to tell me that it's going to be okay and I'll get through this. I know, it's a bit overdramatic but… I just miss you so damn much, and this distance is killing me more than ever. We haven't seen eachother atleast a year now. I'm so tired."

"Please pick up, y/n. It's selfish for me to ask, but I just want to hear you. It feels like I'm losing myself in all of this. I don't want to break down in front of everyone on set tomorrow. But, y/n. Y/n, y/n, y/n, it's so hard."

"I love you. I love you so much. So damn much, it's killing me. I miss New York, I miss our home, I miss you. I wish you were here. I'm sorry for letting you hear me like this over the phone, it's unbecoming. I love you, goodnight."

Your heart sank.

It was all too surreal, all too agonizing, like you feel bile coming up to your throat.

The daunting feeling of Jenna experiencing all of these emotions at once dragged your heart, her voice like a film tape in your mind as if were right there with Jenna in her room.

You heard her cry, you watched her curl herself up on her mattress all while she clung to her phone as if it was your hand she wished she held everyday.

You craved for the warmth of her hand, and you imagine she craves yours as much as you do with hers while you longed to be there with her, for her. To hold her close to you and offer the comfort she needed. The very touch that healed every scar, present and future, was replaced by the lifeless screen of your phone.

You were there, you swear you're there, but you couldn't do anything but listen.

On top of everything, you blamed yourself.

You called her almost everyday, the long-distance relationship being almost a mere label to the both of you.

You texted her every morning and went to bed with her every night. You were there, always. Yet, it felt like you neglected her. Like a piece of you was missing before you even realized it.

Now all you can think about are her restless nights.

The days where Jenna staged a performance with a heavy heart while you smiled with joy, the nights where you slept peacefully in your own bed while Jenna tossed and turned in discomfort in something unfamiliar, sacrificing her rest for your peaceful evenings to remain the same.

You don't know how many days she's been like this, nor do you want to know, the thought was unbearable enough.

And you almost feel bad of booking a plane ticket rather than responding to her. You were just a flight away anyways.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shit, her head hurts.

Hammering, actually.

Like someone cracked it open with an axe made out of obsidian right down the middle and served it to her on a silver platter.

She never should've accepted that afterparty invite from Georgie.

If she never got absolutely wasted to shots from bottles of alcohol, maybe Jenna would've had the brain capacity to curse him under her breath for being such a good damn friend.

Worst of all, she was missing someone. Horribly.

You.

Not just you, but everything of you.

Your scent, your warmth, your presence, your heartbeat against hers—a cruel reminder on how she was missing all of these.

She longed to hear the way you laugh as if you heard the funniest joke ever, the way you smile at Jenna as if she was a saint that had done nothing wrong, the way you loved her oh so dearly like she was the only person that made you crawl out of your skin in a good way.

Now it was taken from her. All of it. She felt like she was nothing without her muse, which was actually the case here.

Jenna was supposed to stay for a year with you—a whole fucking year! A whole year was watered down to a pathetic one to two months because of a change in filming schedule that Jenna had, somehow, no right to turn down.

That's not even half of the time Jenna spent miles away from you, and she couldn't even apologize properly in person since she had to depart so early in the morning.

The thought of you expecting Jenna to wake up beside you with a smile and a kiss only to be woken up with a cold bed with a note apologizing a million times made her flight to another country worse.

She would've been happier if the plane crashed then she would be begging to whatever afterlife she was in to bring her back to the living and spend her life with you.

It's gotten to that point where she looked just like Wednesday off-cam if not worse. She even almost snapped at Emma when she tried consoling her.

Now she sits in her trailer, on a chair, not with you, but with... a chair. Along with her script on a table.

Jenna tried a few lines, repeated them, tried a few lines, repeated them, and it all just comes back full circle.

No matter what she does, she still fucking missed you and wished she could just tell everyone she wanted and needed a nap along with her girlfriend by her side until it reaches winter of 2025.

She could take a nap right now, but you weren't with her. The cold surface would make you appear in her dreams like the loving parasite you are to her and she would only yearn more.

She could take a walk right now, but little ice cream shops along the way would only make her reminisce about the times you would take her out on dates every damn day like you had buckets on buckets of gold to spend it all on Jenna. She would only miss you even more.

She could talk to one of her co-stars, but they weren't you. The stupid and fuckass conversations you'd often bring up, they wouldn't do that. Even if they did, it wouldn't have the same effect.

Why did life suddenly become so difficult when she now has the most gorgeous, talented, and loving girlfriend a billion miles away from her!?

After putting her arms over her eyes, trying to calm down the impending woe and sadness she was facing, a soft knock on her door interrupted all of it.

"Jenna?" She heard Emma's voice, soft like she was hesitant to talk to her if not for Jenna responding with a hum, "we've been calling you for 5 minutes now. It's our scene."

Her voice was serious, though quiet. Or maybe that was just concern, Jenna has been distant for a while now.

Letting out a sigh, she replied, "Right, I'll be there in a minute."

She pulled herself up from the chair. She didn't really need to return to the makeup team, just thankful she didn't cry herself to death thinking about you.

She turned her back to see Emma standing in front of the door, half opened, peering half of her body, "Jenna, you know you can take a break if you want—"

Jenna only offered a weak smile, her steps matching Emmas as they walked over to set, "It's fine. Don't worry about me too much."

Her thoughts are too different from what she was saying, but it wasn't like she could say she'd rather kill herself before even stepping foot out of her trailer without seeing y/n.

"Jenna!" Tim Burton called her out, his voice calm, stretching out her name like he was going to say something completely off-guard.

The girl in question was already staring him down as he spoke, "We've got a change in script"

The girl in question was already staring him down as he spoke, "We've got a change in script. Nothing too big, just that we've added a new extra that Wednesday needs to interact with on this scene."

Isn't that a slight bit unprofessional?

Jenna could let out the most exhausted and exasperated sigh if not for Tim being the one of the sweetest, yet often odd, directors she ever worked with.

"Yeah, sure, can I atleast meet this person—"

"Sorry, Jenna," He lead her to the place she needed to be, the extra in question being no where near in Jenna's sight, "but this is really a last minute change and we just need you both to improvise."

"Wait, but—!"

Her protests were already too late, looking like it went through one ear and out the other through the audio. She was just grateful she had enough training and years in this industry to immediately get into character.

It was supposed to be her scene with Emma, lurking in the woods, a lantern between her fingers as they approached a silhouette of a figure.

Now it was just Jenna in the scene, lurking in the woods, leaves crunching under her combat boots as she watched the camera move alongside her body, not a lantern but rather a flashlight gripped on her palm.

She was informed that the silhouette in question was one of her co-stars that she had met before hand, a tall figure in the distance that she could immediately distinguish based on the back alone.

Now... it's... not exactly what she was expecting to see when she got in character.

She approached the figure, confused as ever, not because it was in her script to do so, but she was actually so damn confused it wouldn't be a surprise to her if she was imagining things.

Because the silhouette looked exactly like you.

Jenna knew you from the slightest shade of your skin, even when it's so damn dark outside.

She knew you from the way you stood, the way you sometimes would do whatever it is with your hands when idle, the way you'd often slightly tilt your head back when you're suppressing a hard giggle—which you were and failing to do so—the way you, in your own words by the way, aren't a good actress for Jenna to practice her lines on without laughing like a total maniac.

Holy shit.

Jenna's mind raced, all too fast for her liking, her heart pounding in her chest, and her body almost in flames at the thought of you being here. Finally being here.

It couldn't be real, of course it wouldn't, why would you be on set in fucking Ireland? It must be a trick, much so a figment of her imagination and maybe more or less girlfriend deprived of everything you gave her. But as she drew closer, her steps doing all but walking slowly to the silhouette, it because unmistakable who it was.

It was you.

Her best friend ever since she learned how to act in middle school, a friend that stuck with her forever even in times where you could've left her all alone.

Her girlfriend. The girlfriend of almost a few years that she loved and cherished with all her might, even if she were to commit a sin, there would be no greater wrong than Jenna disliking you.

It was her home. At last.

Without a second thought, Jenna abandoned everything, forgetting that she was even supposed to be the character she was and rushed towards her, arms already stretched in a desperate embrace to feel your warmth against her body once again. Your heartbeat against hers. It was all too surreal, all too fucking real.

Jenna threw herself into your arms, wrapping you in a tight hug that almost knock you both off of balance in the dirt. Your body stumbling forwards as your back was faced on her.

You still smelled like New York, mixed with that familiar airpot scent that Jenna always got used to. But now, it felt so new, so new that you were hugging her, touching her like it was the last symphony you'd play in your life.

She hugged you, tight. Her hands gripping your clothes like you'd disappear in a matter of seconds. You can hear her taking deep breaths against your body, gulps, and her hold tightening onto you with each passing moment.

As you turned around, you waited for Jenna to slowly loosen her grip, her eyes searching yours as if she still could hardly believe that you were here, standing in front of her after all this time apart. And now, you couldn't believe devotion was still present in her eyes, that warm of a gaze that you always managed to capture in her eyes.

"You're here. Y/n, you're—" She sniffed, looking up at you as she cupped your cheeks, a stray tear trickling down her eyes that shimmered, "You're really here." She whispered, her voice cracking almost to a fault. Her voice was fragile, it crushed you. "Why, how? What, I don't under—"

You smiled softly, chuckling even, you didn't expect it to go this way. "That's not part of the script, Wednesday." You joked, even if it was a serious moment, you always seemed to have one.

"You're not part of the script, why are you here!?"

You reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from Jenna's fringe as Wednesday, your touch gentle and reassuring like it never changed over the years. It was still there, your love was still there, and you were waiting for your lover to come back once in your arms to show how much you missed her oh so dearly.

"I missed you." You simply said, slightly swaying the both of you back and forth

Jenna couldn't say anything, let alone form a few words, but the way she hugged you yet again after a few seconds of silence with such tenderness and compassion, it said everything that you needed to know.

Everything that you lost and you hold today, nothing mattered. Not even the heart that wouldn't stop beating against your chest, it wouldn't matter if you died, atleast it was in her arms.

"So I don't get to have an I miss you back?"

Jenna pulled back slightly, you can see how her eyes glistened looking if it was something that not even renaissance artists could sclupt.

"You don't know how many nights I've spent crying because of how I missed you." She mumbled, voice below a whisper, her mouth hung open from her slight crying, taking a deep breath as she let herself be in the most vulnerable state with you yet.

"You cried?"

"Without you? Terribly so."

Your heart ached when Jenna started to cry, she looked small. Smaller than ever in your arms when you once held her for the first time when she became a busy actress.

She broke down, almost melting in your presence as you try to hold her up. You knew there were cameras rolling, that there were people on set watching this go down, but you knew that you were the only one witnessing her vulnerable state, no matter how many people would see right through her.

You reached up to gently wipe away the tears that streaked down her cheeks, her freckles being in view, something that you missed so dearly, your touch light and tender as you held her—your world—in your hands.

"I wish I could've been there for you," you regretted, "I wish I was there every night, to wipe away the inevitable tears that would grace your face, to hold you in my arms every night.

Jenna shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips, "all that matters is that you're here with me." She chuckled. "Why are you here?"

"Booking a small plane ticket from New York to here was the smallest price to pay for the chance to hold you in my arms once again."

"You know those are expensive, y/n," she scolded you, yet her tone was playful. "How long are you planning to stay?"

You hummed, a grin curling on your lips, "As long as you want me to be here," you replied, "I can't go back when I don't have a return ticket."

Jenna leaned into your touch, her eyes closing as she savored the warmth of your embrace, she didn't know how much she took advantage of this until now. She was afraid you'll be leaving soon, even with all assurances, everything you'll be giving her wouldn't be enough to ease her fears of you departing from her soul once more.

"I love you, y/n. Too much."

"I love you too, Jenna. You know I was only a flight away."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Y: i heard your voicemails, by the way. J: i sent voicemails?

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a/n: sorry if this request was so so so late!! i still have more requests in my inbox and they'll probably be delayed for a couple of days or maybe even weeks because of exams. buttt ill try to post as much as i can with requests and super sorry in advance to those who requested! ill be updating future posts in my masterlists

Hi loved your recent Jenna fic

I have a request where reader confesses their feelings to Jenna after a long friendship (you can figure out how long and that friendship if you want) and Jenna doesn’t really react and unfortunately something or someone interrupts them that forces them to push that topic aside or something then Jenna like shuts down because she goes over reader’s confession over and over because how did she not see it that what she felt towards reader was exactly the same thing which leads her to think over having a relationship with reader and how it’ll work or how it won’t work I’m rambling at this point so you can just take over from here if you want

Just something along those lines idk if that made sense you can ignore this if it doesn’t ha😅

so this is love?

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Gn!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 4.7k (damn i expected it was gonna be more than 5k)

Warnings: a long fucking love confession!!! you'd think to yourself how did they even say that in one breath, jenna being the oblivious little shit, r and j.o is horrendously inlove w eachother its fuckng insane, kind of bittersweet kind of just sweet, several 7 husbands of evelyn hugo references, im yapping too much about love here

a/n: first of all, thank you so so much!! and hope you'll like this one anon, thank you for the idea!

masterlist.

"Y/n, I'm thinking about changing this scene. Just a slight bit, nothing too over the top. What'd you think?"

"Yeah? Oh, yeah. Definitely."

"But it's such a late change—fuck, I should've told Tim a little earlier. You think he's gonna get frustrated? Then again, he's a sweet guy, I don't think he will."

"Jenna. Jenna, I like you. So fucking much. It's spontaneous, a little on the weird side that I'm telling you this now in your Wednesday Addams get up with a script on your hands asking me if your idea is good or not, even if it is—everything you do is amazing—but I'm in love with you for little over a year now and it's tearing me apart so please just reject me so I can move on."

"Yeah, yeah I like the idea too but—what?"

"I like you. Jenna."

. . .

Here's the thing:

You give a poet paper, they will embellish it with their words. People will mourn over their unfortunately late mortal soul enclosed with a tomb that carries their quill and ink.

You give a painter a blank canvas with nothing but their own mind, they will create a sensation, a masterpiece, a tour de force. People will gaze upon it in awe, so valuable they will waste a fortune.

You give a musician a silent room, an auditorium with nothing but a few instruments and tarnished worksheets. They will make out of it, they will fill the room with melodies that no one would hear, yet the very vibrations would resonate with the walls.

But if someone gives out their heart to you, they will pour it all over you. They will reprogram their own organ so that it beats solely for you. They will rip it out of their chest in bleeding agony and give it to you with no price more than their own faith.

You are given no options other than cherish it, treasure it, be thankful someone admires you as such they will do anything and everything for a piece of your attention, maybe even reciprocation.

You are also given the option to trample on it, break it, shatter it into minuscule pieces that have no intention in restoring to it's formal use. Let it be nothing but a bullet to their own decision, to their own emotion, to their own choice to love you.

Jenna was given those options. None other from her friend since the day she became an actress at a young age, a childhood friend even. What now?

. . .

"...What?"

The brunette responded, murmured even, like she was out of breath. The corner of her lips forced themselves to tug into an awkward smile.

What else are you going to respond with if you're stuck in a situation where your friend of a decade, nearly how long Jenna has been in this fucking industry, tells you that they're in love with you?

You shook your head, noticing how Jenna's gaze flicker to your fidgeting hands. "I like you, Jenna. Like, like you. I love you—no, that's crossing the line. But I just... like you, Jenna. Don't you get it?"

Jenna blinked. So much for being in character. She scoffed, albeit playful, running her fingers through Wednesday's fringe, "Yeah. I like you too. We are friends. Best of friends."

You shook your head once more, slowly taking a step forward towards Jenna like you were cautious. "No, Jenna, I—" you sighed, "I like you. Romantically. Like I'm willing to be in a relationship with you like way."

Oh.

Jenna swallowed the ever growing lump in her throat, feeling her eyebrows crease yet a smile was still present on her face. Her lips parted, threatening to say anything that just comes to her mind at this point. "You… you're serious?" Her voice wavered.

"Very. Dead serious." You nodded, gulping in your own words like you were trying to swallow them whole.

"I don't want our friendship to die out because of this, I wished I should've stopped my mouth from rambling all this to you so spontaneously but I—I should've done it more romantically than this setting. I've been in love with you my whole life, I've loved you for as long as I can remember even if I lose my memories. I'm not a romantic soul, I'm more far from it, and I'll never find the words even if I'm given a lifetime to describe how much I love you. I'm… I'm not saying all of this so you could reciprocate what I feel, it's just that I'll be lying to myself everytime I breath if I don't tell you this. You're my colleague, my co-star, my friend, my childhood, my everything ever since we met on that set of that god-awful ad that I cannot for the life of me watch again. I noticed that I talk to you almost everyday, how I adapted to your weird fucking horror movies that I absolutely somehow love, how I—I bought a stupid vinyl because you liked the artist, how I started listening to your music taste, how I started writing poems, how you always manage to sneak up in my conversations with others. You don't have to even be there, and yet, you linger in my words. I would surrender everything I worked for just for you, I would do anything, sacrifice my time and all. You've been all of those and more, and it's shocking that I'm only saying this now, after five years of loving you, half of the time we've known each other."

Jenna was silent, her lips parting as if to speak, but her mind held her back. But her heart did everything to speak, yet it never came.

She was lost, unsure, afraid. She didn't understand, and she fears that you know she doesn't. She never will unless time so happens to be on her side. Breathing was the only option, and breathing out was her only relief that she was alive.

She looked at you, and you looked at her back. No words exchanged. Your hands are now fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, pulling the loose strings apart as you catch your breath.

Jenna could grab your hand, apologize, and reject you. She could throw everything you both had built and walk away, leaving you behind to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart.

Maybe that both of you will go to separate paths after filming was over. Maybe you'd tear away the contract that stated that in all your shows, Jenna should be there.

But the thought pained her.

It's painful, it's torture, it's agony, it's suffering to live in that universe where you weren't the one Jenna calls when it's a rainy day. The universe where Jenna stays awake, mellowing in her own woe, not knowing who to turn to, who to call at the dead of night. The universe where every poem on her phone, on her paper, on her notes, on every surface she had the ability to write on, wasn't meant for you.

Do you refer to that as love?

"Y/n, I... I just need some—"

"Y/n! There you are."

Shit.

Tim cut Jenna off, approaching the both of them, but more primarily you.

"Y/n, makeup team, and Jenna, your scene."

It all took Tim nothing but to speak seven words for the both of them to pry their eyes off eachother and remind themselves it was a professional setting. With professional actors and professional feelings. Nothing personal, is what Tim would say.

Jenna was an actor. You were an actor, her co-star.

That just so happens to be in love with her.

You nodded as you looked right at Tim, your gaze leaving Jenna for the first time.

Jenna was desperate to hold your hand, take a firm grip of your wrist and to tell you to 'stay' or 'don't go' like what they do at cheesy romance movies where the guy gets the girl.

But it wasn't. Jenna would've loved you if it were a movie.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The question still arises on set. Dressed up as Wednesday, cameras rolling, her mind wandering nowhere near the scene but your trailer.

What do you do when a friend confesses their love to you?

A friend who's been a familiar presence in Jenna's life, a friend who's been there since Jenna learned her heart yearned for others, how it beats for other people.

Someone through every moment of self-doubt, they saved her when she couldn't save herself. Through struggles that Jenna considered could be something to gash her mending heart, but they would offer a piece of theres in exchange for happiness in her.

A friend she loves.

It's a simple. You fold your heart in half, maybe even in fourths, then tuck it away in the deepest depths of your pocket. You might stamp it, decorate it, perhaps even address it to none other than your soulmate.

What do you do if you don’t know your soulmate?

You look for them. Jenna never looked for love outside of her family or friends; her heart was content with the familiar comfort of their love. Those were the types of love she knew. She had never felt the need to pursue romance.

Probably because everyone sees some others as they want them to be in their own head. They fall in love with the idea of them, the person they want them to be. An idealized version only they see fit to their desires, a false projection.

Most people would call her beautiful or pretty. She would pass the street and people would look at her, stare at her, look at her up and down, maybe even subtly lick their lips. They look up at her like she’s a force they cannot compete with, like she wasn’t human. Not amongst them. They will compliment her base on her appearance, and in rare cases, on how talented she is.

But someone would call her glorious, like Greece, and grandeur like Rome. Someone would call her lovely, not in a way everyone calls her, but someone would look up at her with eyes that feel like they’re borrowing, harnessing even, the energy of a thousand suns to even look at her. Like she was a garden. But yet, they would also look at her like she was an old friend. An old soul, the soul that could melt yours but still be so comforting.

And it was you.

Most people would look at her and smile. Say hi, wave a greeting, a handshake if it was really needed.

But you look at her as if you were seeing something more, as if Jenna had never seen a person more in awe that you when you look at her. Like how the sun would be nothing without her, how you'll spend your whole life loving her and nothing more, how you look at her and she feels though as if she has never been admired in her whole life. If she was someone intolerable, someone unbearable, suffering to a degree you'd rather die, and you would. But only if it were in her arms.

Most people would describe her as someone talented, art, hot, stunning, sexy. Like she was nothing but a piece of imagination to someone, like her good traits were the only characteristics that made her Jenna Ortega.

But you would turn all of those down. You would say, no, in the face of the interviewer. You would say that she was the renaissance reincarnated as a single human, that was beauty in everything imperfect, she was the art that would put the Sistine Chapel to shame, the sculpture that would have Michelangelo resurrecting from the dead only to lie back of how undoubtedly perfect and impossible to replicate the pure astonishing beauty that was her.

You were an old friend of Jenna, the two of you were ever since Jenna played young Jane in Jane the virgin at twelve years old and you had approached her as an extra to be her somewhat, co-star-in-the-future-friend.

And now, she's only imagining what would've happened if you hadn't been the big ball of sunshine that you always were up until now.

There were times that you would make her laugh, putting up a half-assed comedy show whenever she's in a bad mood, but then you'll give her space if she doesn't budge. Times where you would hold her close in your arms whenever she's on the verge of tears, and times where you hold her close to you whenever she achieved something.

There were times she wasn't proud of herself, how self-doubt creeped into her mind and slowly started to deteriorate her soul, yet you were there. You called her brilliant, a genius, someone show-stopping people from all around the world would be shocked how amazing she was and a few other words that she kept close to her heart.

There were times where Jenna calls you, telling you how filming was all too stressful and she needs a break. Then you're with her the next day, surprisingly becoming an extra or maybe a new side character to her films.

You were always saying how you would protect her at the age of twelve, and she'd always respond with "how?" with a laugh, then you'd respond with a simple shrug saying, "I'd love you."

Jenna didn't understand it at first and yet you understood her in such a short amount of time. How you knew why she always has her headphones on, how you wrote down and knew at the top of a hat what she likes and what she hates, how your laugh sounded at her most darkest of jokes, how you would bring back snacks whenever you're on a run, how you would always say 'i love you' in times where she's breaking down.

And up until now, she never understood why you would protect her with your love.

Jenna was your friend but you treated her like she was your everything.

And up until now, she realized that she loved you back.

And up until now, she realized how could she even dare to live without giving you the same love as you did to her?

People tell you that relationships are easy, that they're lovely, that they tell you that love is the only thing that keeps the both of them going.

But they don't tell you the rest.

They don't tell the pain you want to go through all for your significant other. The nights you want them to be in your arms but you've gone through yet another foolish argument that created a hole in your heart that seem to never mend, but it will.

It made sense that Jenna never wanted to be in a relationship, it was scary. The answer to a question as such was always going to be no. How there was always someone going to be hurt or inflict hurt.

But it never made sense that Jenna would experience pain with no presence of mercy to be with you.

Everyone talks about falling out of love, but that's bullshit. If you fall out of love, then there must be a reason you should've never fell from them in the first place. It's something Jenna never understood why falling out of love was never a thing if love prospered and it was for all eternity.

But the thought of being in a relationship with you, and having to watch you fall out of love with her is terrifying.

The two of you would work because the both of you are long friends, childhood friends. Yet, it won't. Because the two of you were friends. What would happen if Jenna let you in the most deepest parts of her heart? What would happen if you did? Would you get turned off? Would she get turned off? She wouldn't. You wouldn't

If no one had stopped Jenna in the midst of her performance as Wednesday, she wouldn't notice she was messing up her lines. She wouldn't have noticed that she was crying.

But she did notice that one familiar scent you always carried around you; that one perfume mixed with the shampoo you used everyday. Jenna was around you her whole life and she never got tired of it. It could be the smell of her home, like that one familiar scent at your childhood home.

It wasn't long before she felt a pair of two hands grabbing her shoulders, tugging her gently, and it wasn't long before she felt herself walking with them.

The voices were drowned out, muffled, she can hear someone saying to "let her take a break until she's feeling better. Emma, your scene."

"Jenna?"

"Jenna, please, talk to me, why are you crying?"

"Shit—Jenna? Jenna, it's alright, I'm—Well, I shouldn't probably be here."

She knew that voice. How could she forget them?

It wasn't fair that Jenna's heart skipped a beat once she heard your pitch, like you were worried or concerned. She recognized it all too well that it brought a sense of comfort in her soul.

"Y/n?" She whispered, noticing how you brought her into your trailer and sat her down. "Shit. Fuck, I'm supposed to be on set. Y/n, why am I—"

"Jenna. Jenna, hey, look at me," you grabbed her hands, your touch a bit too warm as you held hers tightly, but it never failed to give her peace. "I'm sorry, I know I'm not the one who should be doing this since you know, the whole shit that happened an hour ago."

Jenna looked down at your hands, your thumb slowly caressing the back of her palm, a silent permission. A permission she would always grant with open arms. Or maybe hands in this case.

You nodded, fixing yourself up on the couch as you look at Jenna. "We're gonna take deep breaths, alright? I'll be here, don't worry." You squeezed her hand in reassurance.

"No, y/n, I—I need to tell you something, please—"

"Jenna." You sighed, noticing how it wasn't out of annoyance but out of concern. "Your voice is cracking, you're stuttering, you're in a higher pitch than you are normally. And more importantly, you have tears in your eyes." You would sooner or later interlock your fingers with Jenna's offering another reassuring squeeze. "I'll protect you. You're safe with me, don't worry, please, Jenna."

Oh.

. . .

You know, people think sex is intimacy, the highest form of intimacy there is. 

But they're wrong.

It’s being able to realize something heartbreaking, something that cuts you deep in your soul to the point where no amount of bandages will help. But somehow, someway, someone so special could heal it with their words.

It’s where you can be vulnerable with someone, be happy, be sad, be angry, be every emotion you’re afraid surrendering to. They will wrap their arms around you and whisper to you that they’re there for you. You’re safe with them.

It’s when you realize that heaven couldn’t be real if it isn’t with them. 

It's when you realize that everyone got it wrong in perceiving them, noticing how you're the only one who truly understands them.

It’s when you realize every living and late poet was wrong in their writings, in their words, in their books. Love wasn’t an emotion, it wasn’t a choice. It was someone. Someone special.

It’s when you realize if ever you’ve completely turned the whole world against you, the time where you’ve devastated everyone in turn for your own selfish needs. Yet you will find yourself standing in front of them. Realizing you’ve spared them from your wrath.

You expect them to hurt you. To break you, to do everything within and over their power to make you experience the same pain you’ve inflicted.

Yet they will show no betrayal.

They will simply show understanding, awe even. Love. They will catch if you if you fall from the top you’ve tore and exhausted yourself. They will sing to you if you feel every melody has nothing. They will do everything, they will accept you, not only because of you, but because of what you carry, what you’re pretending not to be.

Love was never easy, Jenna knew that. You don’t listen to Pat Benatar or The Cascades to not know what true love does to someone; It will shatter you, then mend your now fragile heart like its nothing. It will let you experience grief, then peace. It will let you feel nothing, then everything. It’s not simple, never is. It’s complicated, it’s fucked up. It’s terrifying. So fucking terrifying. 

But if Jenna was going to experience everything she’s thinking of right now; Agonizing heartache that feels like mercy isn’t even an option, and peace she had never felt before, it was going to be with you.

. . .

"Jenna? Jenna are you—"

She had never really truly felt luxury in a while until she let her trembling hands reach up to cup your cheeks, stealing one glance away from your eyes before closing her own and softly pressing her lips against yours. 

What do you say to a friend you realized you’ve fallen in love with now?

Maybe you’d kiss them, like what Jenna is doing now. Let yourself bring peace in your world that is full of unjust morals—let them be a light, be something that felt half as right as loving the taste of their lips on yours.

Maybe you'd let them into your world. Remind them of how they're the only ones in this life were worth devoting your entire life to, how being in their presence was an experience of a life time.

Maybe you'd let them care about your entire being. Let yourself be vulnerable, be free within their arms. Let them tell you that they're going no where but to where you're headed, that peace only belongs to a place where you're present.

Maybe you’d tell them how you like the way they look at their belongings like it was their favorite part of the day? Tell them how they make you feel that everything is possible, how you knew that you’ll be living as much as they would be smiling.

Or maybe, Jenna would say this,

"Y/n," she broke off the kiss, her hands returning to her lap and intertwining with yours. "I'm sorry. I couldn't give a proper reaction to your confession earlier. It was so stupid of me I—"

You laughed. Fuck, your laugh was beautiful.

"Don't worry, Jenna. You don't really feel the same way as I do, and that's fine. I just—I just hope it won't ruin our friendship, you know?"

Jenna scoffed, eyebrows creasing, "No, y/n, give me time to talk, please." She laughed, then took a deep breath.

"I love you, y/n. I never really realized that, I mistook them for something lesser. Mostly because love wasn’t the right term to describe it. Love is simple, fast, overused, something tossed around so carelessly that it couldn't be something I'd say to you; you don’t deserve such a weak word that has no meaning but tarnished from other people. It’s not complex, like how you’re represented in my soul, how you grown ivy around my heart as if I’m trapped in your unbearable love, yet why do I accept such an idea that is only a metaphor that I wish it were true? It's clear that no one knows me greater than you have. It happens more often than not that people will see right through me, only to find a barricade of walls that reflects repressed emotions that keep them from entering. But you tell a different story, different words that people don’t use to tear at my heart. You whisper something so precious that I wish to hear again but I shouldn't before I fall. You unravel my soul with a gentleness that defies everything, that makes me wonder where pure tenderness comes from if it isn't from you. I've known you for long enough to know what the sound of your voice is in, whether your anxious or joyful, how your voice is the sole reason why I sleep without your arms wrapped around my body. I want nothing but to hold you in my arms, to lie beside you in nothing but eternal slumber then rise again if you are ever disturbed. I want to fear nothing, to be afraid of nothing, to have death be a mere word unless your name is next towards it. My name is always associated with me being an actress, a talented one, someone who would no longer be a name hidden in the dust but someone who would rise to the top. A glamorous world is what they would tell me, everything I would want is granted. But why aren't you there in the vision they see? The lover that I yearn for, a home that would finally bring me peace, the home that I wouldn't escape from with bare melodies that lay emotions that I couldn't voice. I just—Fuck, I love you, y/n. Through a decade we've been together, it's only now that I realize that life without you is simply a life worth killing myself to. Death shouldn't be an option when you're around me, it should be something we'll defy, an afterlife that would fail in making us part ways from eachother. I love you. Really. I'm sorry, I just didn't know what to say or do, but I love you. I've realized that."

The silence was unbearable, only now did she realize she blurted out a confession only those who're dead can say in a sentence without stuttering.

"No, no Jenna…" You pushed her hands away from yours, the action stinging her own hands as you stepped back, putting unfamiliar distance between the two of you.

"Y/n, what?" She scoffed, her voice betraying her of a flat tone, "What do you mean, I thought—" Jenna immediately reached out for your arm, her words were faltering, her fingers now trembling as they threatened to brush against your skin.

She was expecting to get yelled at to leave, to never show her face to yours ever again. But as she looked into your eyes, she was met with tears that dared to glisten your gaze. "Are you… are you crying?"

You chuckled, "You know… You know I can't compete with that confession, Jenna. It's unfair to those who don't have a habit of staying up late and writing poems." You brought your hands up to your eyes and wiping away the tears that fell on your cheek, only to be replaced by warm ones.

Jenna cupped your face, her thumb caressing the gentle touch and warmth of your skin, feeling how you leaned into her touch almost immediately. "Oh, you're awful. You had me worrying that I said something wrong or you changed your mind."

"Oh, no, never." You laughed it away, shrugging the tears that continue to stain your face. Then, without a word, you reached up to cradle her own face in your hands, letting her place them down on your lap and close the remaining distance of the two of you that were seated far too apart from eachother.

"I never really thought that you'd say yes. Or say something too poetic." You whispered to her, daring yourself to not drown in her pool of brown eyes that threatened to kill you if you looked too closely.

"I never really thought that I would truly love someone, and look at that turned out."

"Like what?"

"Like I never wanted to love someone more than I loved everything." She tilted her head, leaning forward and closing the distance between your lips and hers. A soft but gentle press to your own, yet it was fervent.

She pulled away, only so slightly that your lips never touched eachother again before they fall into the same predicament as addiction. But close that she could feel your heartbeat, your warm breath against hers, everything that made you you.

"So, this is love?" She whispered.

"Dangerously attractive in a form of a human?" You smirked, winking even, before Jenna rolled her eyes.

She scoffed, "I was going to take you out to dinner, but you are awful at charming someone."

"Take me out to dinner and I'll never make that statement again."

"Deal. I'd splurge a shit ton of money for you not to repeat it ever again."

"You pain me. I love you."

"I love you too."

And then she kissed you, holding you tight as if reminding you're more than just a friend.

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a/n: i'm in a desperate need of a girlfriend. also in the span of my 1 week break ive written only 2 stories. its such a low number damn 😭😭😭 (+ then he kissed by by the crystals reference at the end!)

"When I saw you

I fell in love, and

you smiled

because you knew

-William Shakespeare"

LOVE.LOVE.LOVE.

I wanted to make a request! I had a similar interaction like this, and when I had read this, I fell inloveeeeee with this qoute sm. Can you do a Wednesday x Reader? In which it's Wednesday who actually falls inlove 😭

amore, amore, amore.

Pairing: Author!Wednesday Addams x Gn!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 6.0k (oh what the fuck)

Warnings: told in WEDNESDAYS POV AND ALTERNATE TIMELINES!, the gomezification of wednesday addams prevails, yes they meet at a museum, also kinda 7 husbands of evelyn hugo coded, slight plottwist at the end!

a/n: aaaa ofc ofc!! also i absolutely love the idea where wednesday fell first and harder

masterlist

I believe they cursed me the moment their lips became something worth fighting for.

"If they intend to halt my publishing, then so be it. I have no interest in entertaining that brain-dead company over countless of reasons as to why I shouldn't spare a few weeks for myself who believe I will fall under their will."

"Wednesday, they're the ones who publish your books, you just can't ignore their calls."

"Barclay, has your brain deteriorated to a degree in such a way that you are forgetting it's my presence that upholds that fucking company? Without me, they are nothing. Have you forgotten with how much power I withhold over them, or have your scales reached that hollow of a brain?"

"You can't ignore the leverage they have over you, sure you have the amount of money, if not more, to sue them, but they could literally tip you off and brand you as some selfish author."

"Please do comprehensively explain to me as to why I would be a selfish author?"

"Wednesday Friday fucking Addams, it's because you're half-way across the fucking world at some fucking museum in Italy while you have a manuscript due a fucking week ago!"

"I fail to see my fault."

"Addams, if you don't get your shit together, I swear—"

I had solved countless of murders in my time of Nevermore. I had one thing to do when I finally left, and I was going to succeed.

If you had told me after I willingly left that horrid place you call an educating institution that I would experience the same fate as an author, I would've traced the outer skin of your face with a pocket knife and display it on your family's doorstep.

Barclay, amongst others, remained someone I held close. She could be infuriating, but no one would ever be much deserving of a terrible, terrible position than be under my control as my manager when I pursued writing.

But no one tells you how people could easily forget you in a matter of seconds if you don't make a name for yourself when you've put yourself out there, even if it's something far, far from your own.

I was only fortunate enough people enjoyed what I publish.

I couldn't care less if they didn't, that's why I found it hard to give two shits about what that damned company thought of my revised schedule. But I needed to make a living. To make something out of myself.

If I had continued my actions— in which I have full control over with—I could lose everything.

I could've build it up from scratch if it happened, but Lucifer knows how long would a simple idea for a plot that could get into the lack of attention span of the population could take.

I could lose the name I print on paper.

I could lose my name.

And then I realized I haven't.

There was something that I was destined to fall under. It was there with my eyes taped to a painting, not knowing I became one for another.

I hung up. The mere thought of having a multistep plan to eventually murder my manager was between God and me. That woman had me teetering on the edge of becoming a one-hit serial killer overnight.

My head tilted over a large painting towering amidst the others down the line. My hands remained tucked deep within the pockets of a trench coat far too oversized for me.

I couldn't take much time of squinting, staring as if it had garnered my interest not after a dreaded phone call that I convinced myself truly took my energy and managed to inject anesthesia inside my veins.

A light sway became evident in my steps, as if I was sulking in my own woe of what I should and could've done to prevent myself fucking it up on a company that I could soon own if not me being under the age of what is required to own a firm without having to ring up my own godforsaken of a family.

I could almost take another step if I wasn't met with another person.

Countless of papers flew across the hard-tiled floor. It was over before I knew what had happened. I found myself standing there, eyes glued to the person I collided with, my eyebrows crossed and my mouth hung open like a fool.

"I'm—I'm so sorry, fuck." They grit under their breath, like they were berating themselves while they picked up the rest of what had fell.

I stood there, not knowing what to do or what not to do but stare at them and wait for them to pull themselves up.

And so that's what I did.

I wish I hadn't.

Because now it was the time I was unable to speak. Unable to use the words I've been writing my novels with, the words that I should've spoken in the seconds they had landed in front of me. For the first time, my words had failed me.

A question rang in my head, Why do I now feel as if I do not belong inside of my own body? Why does my life feel complete now that they were here?

When Y/n fixed herself, she looked at me and smiled. I knew I looked like an idiot staring at them, yet I never went out of my way to barely fix myself.

Why were they smiling?

"Why are you smiling?" I asked under my breath, like I was taken breathless. I hadn't mean to say it out loud, but my cold and otherwise damned heart seemed to be alive, like I was suffocating in my own rate. A fool in front of them I must've been.

They looked at their paper, then they looked at me.

They smiled yet again. Another question flicked across my head, what had happened to me to act as if I would go through hell and back for this person?

They smiled at me as if my presence gave them a reason to. And they loved me in every one of it.  

"Sorry—" they apologized, noticing how their thumb kept grazing the surface of their sketch, almost as if they were nervous. "You look prettier than... whatever I drew."

They stole one more look of me.

"Terrifyingly bewitching."

It's horrifying knowing I couldn't explain what I felt that day. What I know is—I felt everything.

I've endured endless remarks on my appearance ranging from a number of ratings from those nonsensical people on the internet to every synonym people have thrown my way only to fail to evoke even a flicker of emotion.

Though it seems egotistical, I knew they held one intention: they wanted to impress me. They wanted me to know they were different amongst others who have approached me. They wanted to entice me, as if I could be owned.

Were it not for the arsenal and threats I carried, there would be much more.

Y/n was different. They never had any intentions of being with me, no desire to impress or claim me as theirs. They simply wanted me to know I was. That it was true. I just had never heard it from someone who could mutter two words that felt perfect.

And it's much more terrifying knowing I unexpectedly fell first, even if I deny myself.

I could tell you about the way y/n smiled, how it seemed to threaten the sun, warning it not to shine lest it risk embarrassment in contrast of hers. I could tell you the way their eyes followed their smile, how their life was encapsulated in their drawings, mirroring what they felt.

Yet, when it comes to explaining how I fell for them, words escape me. Even I, a tortured author, struggle to describe.

How must I convey the sensation of my heart pounding in my ears as if it was trying to break me? The ache in my stomach, churning every chance it got, every fiber of my being dreadfully surrendering to them.

But one is for certain: meeting them was like coming home.

My home.

But I couldn't bring myself to realize that—It was antagonizing for me. Humiliating and mortifying knowing one person could make me become a total fool, become someone I've never thought I'd be.

I've spent my whole life after hiding what I felt for them, lest I risk experiencing what I truly loathe: love.

I despised them ever since I met them, loathed them, hated them. But for what for? I ask myself countless of times, I have never gotten an answer.

When they left, I left. Thinking it would be fate that had accidentally brought two people together who held no meaning for eachothers life, that it was a mistake, and I could've been wrong with how I'm feeling.

And when I came back, they were there.

And when I approached them, it felt right.

It was a week after the incident, but no matter how I tried, I still remember how their smile felt around me. Suffering, irritating, lovely. Like I wanted to relieve it, no matter how much time had passed.

Never once did I get their name in the span of meeting them, it was useless to know anyway.

Yet, I find myself returning to the museum every chance I get for God knows what, acting as if I had unfinished business staring at paintings while the staff rambled beside me. They were better off tattooing their explanation in my skull.

I had other places to attend to, other tasks I should've been doing rather than constantly visiting museum in the afternoon as if I have duties and low-paid labor for employment.

I should've been at my apartment days ago, exhausting myself on a half-assed manuscript I would have recurring thoughts of annihilating along with severing Bianca's hands through the phone.

What terrified me is why I was back.

Standing in front of them. My hands tucked deep inside the pockets of another trench coat, looking down on them sitting on one of the blocks of granite surrounding a oddly placed tree in the middle of the hall, drawing whatever there is to draw.

"Hello." I greeted them. They almost looked startled, surprised that I was even talking to them, like I was some vengeful ghost who returned to seek revenge. Though they weren't far off.

They looked up, immediately flipping over their clipboard as they locked eyes with me.

"Oh—" They cleared their throat, "Hi. Hey, hello." They smiled, albeit awkward. But that feeling of dread, or whatever, came back. Stronger than ever, I feared. I almost had half the mind of punching them in the gut and questioning them why they had this effect on me.

"Didn't know you come here often." A chuckle followed their question, or maybe it was a statement, placing their elbows on their lap while they gazed right at me.

I scoffed, murmuring against gritted teeth why did I even approach them in the first place. "And I didn't know you draw me that often."

I look down on the piece of paper, their deliberate and aggressive brush strokes having an effect on the paper, leaving marks upon marks. It was clear that I've been their subject for days on end. Even if I were to absent, I'd still be able to be the pinnacle of their sketches.

It was funny back then, humorous in my mind on how quick they snatched the piece of paper and tried to explain with little to no comprehension that went across their mind.

"Oh, God, no, no! I just—Okay, well, maybe I've been drawing you ever since I saw you, it's creepy now that I mention it... but it's just—it's dumb of me to not draw you, you know?" They were flustered, their mouth opening and closing only for me to receive words that were out of the dictionary.

They sighed, my lips twitched.

"I'd like to ask," My voice trailed off, grimacing even at the thought of having to initiate a conversation with more or less than five words, "What's... your name?"

"Y/N," They nodded, "L/N. Y/N/L/N." They reached out for a handshake only to immediately retract after a brief awkward seconds of staring. Their name sounded familiar.

"Why are you here?"

"Do I need to reason to?"

"I suppose so, no. But I am curious." Even I don't know why I'm still back here.

Y/n sighed, like I was the one getting on their nerves while it was me who battling against whatever fucked-up demon spawned in my stomach that caused me to feel, things.

"Nothing."

I frowned. "You came here because of.... Nothing?"

"Mhm."

"You are drawing strangers you know nothing about because of nothing?"

"Thought I made myself clear on that first word."

"You've made yourself look foolish than any average person."

"Well, you never told me your name. I think that's foolish enough over my case."

It was my turn to sigh.

"Addams." I reluctantly said to them, "Wednesday, Addams."

Then Y/n looked up at me as if I was some sort of otherworldly deity going back down to earth to finish whatever I started. "Wednesday Addams. I think I've heard that name before."

"No. No, you haven't."

If it wasn't horribly obvious, the sole purpose of my visit to Italy was to neglect everything I left behind in New York—especially deadlines— and hoped my eyes would finally work some sense that would let me start anew.

It was shameful of me, passion that dwindled into something less. If I had the chance, I would've tortured myself for even considering abandoning all of my life's work.

Though, I had my reasons. Even if I had threatened my target population and my audience, it still wouldn't be enough.

In short, I had lost motivation to pursue another book.

I felt as if there was something missing, that I couldn't even dare to even blow the collecting dust in the rims of my typewriter.

I begged for my brain to work, to even produce the slightest idea or word that could have some meaning to it. I was ready to write anything that came to mind, even if it was mediocre.

But, instead, my heart responded.

When I met Y/n, I started writing, and we started talking.

Words flowed through, and my time was wasted on Y/n.

My time was wasted, and they were wasted with their significant other.

I always thought I would suffer the thought of having to live an eternal life with none other than myself, that it was inevitable I was going to perish alone in my own woe.

It remained the same. Now, it's just having to live with the fact that my only greatest love had another.

I felt as if I ate a forbidden fruit once I heard they had someone that loved them as much as I denied myself of the same kind, like I plagued myself with hundreds of years of worry and attachment to someone who had eyes on another, a special muse they had.

Only that I would crumble immediately, tempted to take the fruit in my hands, forever stain my lips of something immoral so that I could forever crawl and weep over them.

In my time in Italy, I thought i'd be avoiding acquaintances that would be much more of a burden to me rather than someone useful. Yet there I was, watching Y/n saunter into my life like the revelation they were.

It's safe to say that Y/n turned out to be anything but a burden. They became someone I looked forward to seeing every day, though I hadn't realized they were motivation until then.

"Wends!"

Their awfully cheerful voice pierced through the air of the restaurant, almost granting the attention from other people as if they shared the same horrendous and dreadful nickname as me.

As much as I fantasized about walking out of the restaurant with y/n's half-broken jaw, I couldn't deny whatever was swirling in my head.

Ever since they knew of that wretched nickname unfortunately given to me by none other by that infectious and the ever infuriating ball of sunshine, Enid Sinclair, they've been calling me it as if I don't have a birth name.

It was a month ever since I've known Y/n, and it was a month of them being a constant presence in my life. They shared breakfast with me, lunches, and sometimes dinners that I somehow always and reluctantly accepted.

They became my routine, and it was a fact I'd sooner die with than confess to anyone.

Y/n slowly approached my table that was filled to the brim with countless of books and my oddly placed typewriter, putting their own stuff down on the seat beside them. "You're here early. You ordered something yet?"

It was 12PM. We agreed on 1, and I came at 10.

I scoffed, keeping my eyes on the typewriter. "You, of all people, should know by now that I would much rather sooner paint myself neon than touch anything on this menu."

I hear y/n setting their elbows on the table, resting their face between their hands. "Aw, c'mon Wends, it wouldn't kill you.

"Cyanide won't, but this will." I stopped writing to take one look at them, obviously and oddly, my gaze never and will never work on them. "Take my advice if you're eager to leave this restaurant with a mouth able to eat and speak."

"Ever the happiest person, Wends." They chuckled, sliding a somehow too bright and colorful menu towards them, "I'll order for you."

I stopped writing all together, "Y/n."

"Wednesday." They raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. It was over before I was even playing the game. Resistance over their lips felt futile anyway.

"Fine." I sighed, shutting my eyes closed just so that for once I can't have my stomach doing fucking acrobatics at the sight of them. "I will... allow it."

The ever-growing smile that crept up to their face was priceless, I couldn't bring myself to pry my eyes away. Murmuring something along the lines that I was too easy to lure in.

Once a waiter passed our table, Y/n ordered something along the lines of whatever the fuck 'Due Cream Soda Alla Vaniglia e Lampone con Glitter Commestibili' was. I was certain I was going to leave the restaurant with a non-working heart and a stomach turning inside and out.

It took no longer than a minute for Y/n to get a hold one of the numerous books piled infront of me. "Are you studying for something?" They asked, opening it only to close it once they noticed how outdated some of the languages are.

I let a small chuckle pass my lips. "What drives you to such a hypothesis."

They gestured to the books and my typewriter, "By how you're literally surrounded by books and you're on a fucking typewriter instead of a laptop." They pointed out, murmuring another, "Also, who the hell says hypothesis."

"People with functioning frontal lobes." I quipped, letting my fingers write on instinct across the typewriter keys as I listened to Y/n's ramblings. "I'm... writing."

"You're an author?"

"No."

"Then why—"

"Are you a painter? An artist?"

"Well... I—no?"

"Then we both don't know what we're doing."

Y/n fell silent moments after, I couldn't help but miss the sound of their voice. Admitting the mere thought aloud seemed absurd, let alone thinking it in the first place. I would've bashed my head on top of my typewriter if not for my resistance.

"How long will you be staying in Italy?" they eventually asked.

"Two more weeks," I replied. "My flight is already scheduled, I'll be leaving then on."

"Oh."

I wasn't expecting an answer anything other than a hint of happiness that I was eventually leaving their life.

"You are?" They repeated, as if they couldn't believe such a statement even escaped my lips, clear disappointment flickering across their face. "That's not... long."

"I am certainly not saying here indefinitely now that I have something to continue when I've arrived at my destination." I cleared out, doing my very best to escape the impending guilt washing over me.

"I'll miss you, Wednesday."

Their words were sincere. Lovely. It had stopped me from writing all together.

Guilt wasn't a feeling I was familiar with at the time. I rarely come across such a feeble emotion. Now it felt like I've committed something immoral. There were times that I lie for my own convenience, and nothing more than my own reason.

Now it felt like I should've lied for them.

I will forever miss you.

I wrote. I never showed them.

One week had passed and I rarely ever got to see Y/n after. Our encounters became increasingly scarce, and their voice plagued me from days on end.

I clung to the faithless hope I had that they would text me, to reach out, to even show me they're alive and well.

I returned to the museum for every day they were absent in my life, searching for any sign of their presence, but each day ended in disappointment.

Of course, fate is indifferent to my yearning, refusing to grant someone I so desperately sought.

Regret gnawed at me as the days turned into a week, and the week turned into the day before my flight.

"Addams. I've heard from others that you've been writing."

"Who others?"

"I'll spare a name to spare New York a corpse found in their sewage pipes by the time you've, hopefully I assume, returned and not jump off the plane."

"Even if I went off the grid, your nagging would've been in spirit."

"Don't flatter me."

"Don't kill yourself without showing me a video tape in full resolution for me to get through rough weeks. Or maybe take a shotgun and shoot yourself in your garage and let me have the keys to your house."

"Addams."

I sigh. "Yes, the rumors—though I would want that vampires head on a stake—are true. I've been writing."

"What happened to you there? You met someone?"

"How'd you know—No. No, I—I haven't. What makes you come to such a foolish conclusion?"

"Oh my God, someone actually managed Wednesday—I'd rather kill myself before loving anyone—Addams to fall terribly in love with them. Who's the unfortunate soul?"

"I would not be naming them because they do not exist."

"You just stuttered, Wednesday. The only thing making you stumble your words is when you're overdosing on whatever poison you're having for breakfast."

"They're no one."

"How are you such a bad liar when you have countless of bodies hidden across the globe?"

I sigh again, this time, it was out of annoyance. "I'll be hanging up. Goodbye, Barclay. If ever you are considering to kill yourself, call me. I'll be at my most happiest to watch."

"Wait, no, Wednesday! I need progress on your—"

I hung up. It was pointless to answer her calls when I was a mere few step away from boarding a plane. She always had a way of getting under my skin, even from across the damn globe.

But there was one name that would always surface in my thoughts: Y/n.

The mere thought of their name will forever remind me of how my heart wasn't programmed to love.

I reached for my phone, fingers tracing over the cold screen. My mind was tired, blank. The only thing I could ever do is stare at their contact and wish I could've done something better.

I typed out a hesitant message, my thumb hovering over the send button as if it was something that could end my world. Only two thoughts ran to my mind: Would they reply, or would my message be nothing to them?

I almost hit send before I heard footsteps approaching me.

"Y/n?"

I whispered their name, the love I carried for them being surrendered like I'd crawl for them once I reached purgatory.

"What are you doing here?" My eyebrows furrowed. How could they leave me, only to return as I was about to depart? "Why are you here, you disappeared, avoided me, why—"

"He proposed to me."

Oh.

I always thought a near-death experience with a loved one would be the deepest I could feel.

I realized I was wrong.

Now my eyes ached to the sting. Like I was weeping for someone that perished in my heart, I grieve for a living soul that was me. It was pathetic.

I expected them to be overjoyed, over the moon as they would express themselves from time to time.

But when I met their eyes, all I saw were tears streaming down their face.

Oh, how I wished to wipe their worries away.

"Then why are you crying?"

"I don't know if I love him."

"Nonsense... You told me you loved him—"

"Well, maybe I haven't been saying anything true to you!"

"Look, I don't know what I'm doing—I don't know what the hell are we doing. I'm living in some apartment with some guy I don't even know I even love, I'm currently standing here like an idiot to a girl who's just about to leave my life, and you're—"

"You're everything."

It was that moment I realized I was lost in a haze of admiration and love for Y/n.

That I was far too deep in their life that they became mine. I never knew I needed them as much when I told them to leave with me and break up with their significant other.

I never knew I needed their lips onto mine until the moment I pulled them close to me.

Now I ache of them.

"Do you regret it, mother? Being such a fool for someone, you became what you hated most. But you endured it all for them."

Wednesday Addams, seating across the bed from her daughter, Blair Addams. She looked just like you, she'd always wonder.

Wednesday sighed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Blair's. "Do you know the phrase, 'Come ti vidi M’innamorai, E tu sorridi Perchè lo sai?'" she asked softly.

"You know I've never indulged myself in whatever you're reading." She shook her head with a smile. She looked even more like you.

She let her fingers trace patterns on her hand, her gaze wandering else where. "Well, it translates to 'When I first met you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew," she explained.

"And do you believe in that, mother?"

Wednesday could almost smile. Her daughter was always the curious one, yet she always managed to be privy of her life from them. "I always believed Y/N knew the moment we first laid eyes on each other, I fell in love with them."

"So, yes, my raven." She nodded, "I do."

"I never knew Y/n would make me their title, their theme, their muse," Wednesday pondered, "I always wondered why i fell for them."

"Falling is an accident, gullible, like with people who fail to do basic things. But I am one of those people if not more if I fell for their on accident and continued to do so."

She sat beside Blair, her legs crossed beside her. "I've never told you at the time, but Y/n was a painter. And they wanted nothing more but than to forget about their past. They have never told me as to why, but I believe them.""

"I worried that my love was violence. It was pain, it was suffering. But y/n took care of themselves, they took care of me. There is no one in the world who had loved me more than them, I fear that it would break them, that I am deemed no longer someone who is a part of their story."

"Yet here we are."

Wednesday couldn't see the smile creeping from her daughters lips. But she knew it was there, just like how you looked like before. She will always and forever take pride in it.

She always thought her greatest love could be something of a passion, a talent, a hobby perhaps.

But no one told her it could be a person.

Blair stretched and turned on a light beside her bed, opening a drawer and taking out two of Wednesday's books. "Must they be the reason your books has been off to your prior ones, mother? You've written all your life of gore and mystery. Now it's romance."

"Well, I—"

"Oh, I'm definitely the reason why your mother has been subtly—not-so-subtly, switching to the romance genre."

You peered through the door, your body wrapped up in a cozy boritto style and everything with a train draping it's way to your back like some met-gala dress.

"Oh, mon chéri," Wednesday's face lit up at the sight of you, immediately standing up and pulled you close, her arms enveloping you in a warm embrace.

Her lips met yours in soft kisses, leaving the taste of faint vanilla chapstick lingering on your lips. "Why are you up so late?"

"Well," You grinned against her lips, "I felt our bed getting cold and to my surprise my wife isn't nowhere near me. You know how I can't sleep without you." She pulled away, you whined at the lost of contact, but you couldn't smile more brightly as she led you towards your daughter. "G'evening, Blair."

"Evening, Y/n." She greeted you before you kissed her on the forehead.

You leaned against Wednesday's shoulder, whispering softly, "You're telling her our story again?"

Wednesday would've thought her small chuckle went unnoticed, but you definitely heard it. The stupid smile on your face told everything.

Her hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. "She loves it."

"You love it, mother. Probably more than me." Blair retorted back, evident that she was holding back a laugh.

"I do not! When did I ever—"

"Oh, honey, you know love turns your mother into a girl version of your abuelo.

"Do not ever refer to me as my love drunk father or I will subject you to sleeping on the couch." Wednesday rolled her eyes, pinching the back of your palm. "And please do not shame my work of referring to it as such. I've worked hard day and night yet you proceed call it by such an exasperate—"

You turned your head and pressed a kiss on her cheek, the same spot where her freckles resided, causing her to pause mid-sentence. After atleast ten years of being with her, it always made you so giddy.

"Not even in marriage am I spared by your passive aggressive comments," you teased, your lips curling into a smile as you leaned in closer to her.

You hear your daughter sigh after a brief second, "Addams."

Wednesday almost looked shocked, "My Raven, do not call us by our last—"

"Please exit my room. I'll be going to sleep."

And then, the both of them were shoved off before they could even hug their daughter and kiss her goodnight like they always did.

"I... We were rejected, Y/n." Wednesday exclaimed, like she just got struck with the most heartbreaking news. "She used to love our stories together when she was an infant."

You'd think Wednesday was the non-chalant mom who's strict on her child. But, to your surprise, she was the opposite.

She loved Blair just as much she loved you. Hell, you even considered just maybe, maybe not, disowning your daughter because she gets Wednesday's attention more than you do.

You shrugged, taking her hand and leading her to your upstairs bedroom. "It gets stale once in a whileeeOW!" You winced as Wednesday pinched the back of your palm, again. It was starting to become her love language at this point.

"I'm just kidding!" You reassured her, intertwining your fingers with hers as you walked up the stairs together, pulling the door open for your wife. "She's just in her rebellious teen phase, let it go."

Wednesday rolled her eyes, "Too cliche."

"You used to have one too," you scoffed, settling onto your side of the bed and watching as she laid down on hers.

It was a routine you found yourself often doing, taking in the sight of your beloved as if your life with Wednesday was all a dream. You pinch yourself like almost thrice a day just to really make sure.

"Since when?" Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement, quietly shuffling towards you.

You sat up for a moment to undo her braids. You always liked playing with her hair, and that one time she asked of you to undo hers, it became a routine. "Since the beginning of time. And somehow, you never grew out of it."

"You didn't even meet me in my teenage years. I am far from rebellious."

"Yes, baby, but not too far from a death penalty." You chuckled, reaching out to gentle stroke her hair, leaning in to press a soft kiss against her forehead.

"Oh, you flatter me," she replied, a smirk across her lips, but the room was too dim to even notice it.

By now, if you were any ordinary person, Wednesday would've made you disappear entirely. But, the thing is, Wednesday always seemed to look at you as if her life never really started until she found you.

Silence managed to take over the atmosphere, you laid back on the comfortable mattress, feeling Wednesday's head nestled on your arms that were tucked under her hair.

You could almost fall asleep in pure bliss knowing that you've met and loved the girl of your dreams if not for her calling out for you.

"Amore." She whispered.

"Amore?" She whispered again, her voice softer than ever before.

You blinked, momentarily. You swore you just heard an angel. "Yes, amore?"

"Can I... Can you—"

You smiled, almost too knowingly. You knew Wednesday, for someone who's such a romantic soul, she's not too expressive on simple terms like these. "Do you want to be the little spoon?"

She grimaced, you could even hear her grunts of disapproval. "I would highly refrain from calling it that before I jump out of bed and skin you from limb to limb. But... yes, I would like to."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips at her response, suppressing a grin to avoid from literally being murdered as you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her close.

Ten years before, if someone had told you that you're going to be doing this to girl you've met at a museum while trying to escape your past, let alone be happily married to her, you would've told them "How the fuck do you know that and please stay away, I have... a boyfriend. I guess."

But now, it seemed so believable. Wednesday was always so relaxed in your arms, your warmth and hers bringing a sort of comfort for the both of you.

You nuzzled your head against the back of her neck, gently moving strands of her hair aside as you pressed soft kisses against her skin, hoping to kick away her tension from the day.

"Stop pouting, Wends," you murmured softly into her skin as you closed your eyes in pure relief.

You hear her scoff, "I am not doing such a humiliating act."

"Oh but you so are." Your grin widening as you pressed another gentle kiss against her nape, "I can hear it from here."

Wednesday let out a sigh, of annoyance? Maybe. But was it tinged with pure adoration and love? Much so. "You don't hear pouts, Y/n."

"When it comes to you, I do and I can."

Silence washed over. This time, you're worried you've teased her that much, she actually got annoyed with you.

"You're awfully quiet. By this time, you're probably threatening to kill me."

"I'm... Sorry." Wednesday whispered, it has an undying tone of tenderness that you don't often see it being expressed through words from her. Slowly, she shifted her body to face yours.

One thing is for certain: She was still so terrifyingly bewitching if not more. She looked pretty in every way possible, it's hard to even believe, it left you in awe.

You feel her gaze darting on your eyes and then drifting down to your lips, hesitating even. It was ridiculous, in the most adorable way possible there is for an Addams like her.

"May I kiss you?"

"You know you're always welcome. It's pointless to ask."

She was the first to reach out, her hand finding it's way to the curve of your cheek, her touch gentle than ever as she traced the line of your jaw as if she was memorizing every feature of yours.

You cupped her face in reciprocation, leaning in closer to where your lips were just hovering inches away from hers. Then, you closed the space between the both of you.

You pulled away, your eyes meeting hers with a soft smile. It was impossible to think that this woman held your heart in her hands like it was nothing.

"Have I ever told you that you're pretty?" you whispered, letting your hands fall to her waist and pulled her close.

"Ever since you've met me."

“You know, I’m surprised you even remember our first meeting.”

“Oh, how could I ever forget my lover?”

You laughed, a symphony that always gets Wednesday to have a slight tug in her lips. “Stop being so romantic. You are a grown woman with a daughter.”

You continued to stare into her eyes as you drape the rest of the blanket for the both for you. "It's hard to think you're the first one to fall in love and not me."

"It's hard to think of anything when you're here with me, te amo." Wednesday replied, her gaze softening almost immediately.

You sighed. "You know I love you, right?"

Wednesday blinked. "I always will."

You smiled.

And Wednesday smiled back.

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a/n: this was longer than i thought. i yap too much in stories i fear

Hiiii!

Could you write one for G!p Jenna x fem reader smut, where they are on their honeymoon going at it like rabbits, a few weeks after coming home they find out reader is pregnant?

Thank youuu

so-called "honeymoon phase"

Pairing: G!p!Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 7.2k

Warnings: this is a long long one, just immediate smut, pregnancy ofc,

a/n: hellloooo and yes i definitely can!!! thank you sm for the request!!!!! i need to see jenna in more thom browne outfits ohmygodddd

masterlist.

"Jenna… O-Oh my God, f-fuck, baby, please…!"

Jenna's relentless thrusts rocked your back against the cold and hard surface of the kitchen island, feeling her cock stretching and filling you up, breaking you down to a whiny and desperate mess for her to satisfy herself.

A pathetic whine escaped your lips, letting her penetrate you even further as you feel your eyes roll back in pleasure while your legs—  weakened by the amount of times she gave you countless of orgasms— were thrown over Jenna's shoulder, her hands digging into the skin of your waist, keeping you steady while she slammed you up and down on her hard cock.

Her mouth hung open, hot breaths followed by low moans eliciting from her pretty lips, a bead of sweat starting to form on her forehead as she kept bucking her hips deep inside you. "Fuck, y/n..."

You can feel her eyes roaming on your body, relishing in the way you look so fucking hot under her control; your eyes swelling in tears as you tried your best to muffle your sounds, your neck down to your chest littered with red markings and hickeys, your boobs bouncing along with her thrusts, your back arching everytime she slams you back on her dick, your ass red with markings of her hands coming down on you, your pussy slick with your own cum mixed with hers.

You looked so perfect with her thick cock sliding in and out.

The kitchen was a mess, especially the counter beneath you, now slick with your combined juices mixed with Jenna's sloppy pre-cum.

For what felt like a pleasurable eternity for hours on end, Jenna had taken full control over your trembling body, relentlessly driving her thick cock into your well-abused cunt while your desperate pleas of begging her to stop fell on deaf ears—ignoring your screams and moans as she rammed her shaft deep inside you.

"You're... f-fucking me so good, Jenna, oh God!"You squirmed beneath her, unable to do anything but uselessly cry out her name which sounded like an addicting lustful melody to her ears as she continued her assault on you. Her intent was clear—she wouldn't stop until your vision flicks dark.

Jenna looked fixated on this sinful sight of you, on how you were on the brink of tears from her harsh thrusts—your heated expressions being one of the things she loved the most when you were beneath her.

With each forceful thrust, she seemed to plunge deeper, her cock disappearing and reappearing in your tight heat while your clit glistened with slick and arousal, turning bright crimson red as Jenna overstimulated the poor sensitive bud, placing intense pressure as she pressed two of her fingers against it, rubbing with intensity that didn't seem to dwindle down.

"J-jenna! No, no, please, stop! Too much, I—" You cried out, eyes squeezed shut while your head pulled back as you feel another wave of an orgasm ripping through you, wrapping your arms around Jenna's back, your nails digging into her skin.

The smacks of skin on skin, Jenna's grunts and soft moans, and the wet squelching of her cock driving into you was enough for you, your pussy constantly clenching and unclenching around her hard length.

She tilted your chin up, your eyes meeting with someone lustful and dark, "Be a good girl and look at me, yeah?" Jenna's pace quickened all while moaning in immense pleasure. "I wanna see your pretty face fall apart beneath me."

"Yes, Jenna!" You screamed as your body arched off the counter to to accommodate her size, "Oh, fuck, don't stop!" She pulled back, her tip lathering on your slick before slamming back in, your pussy clenched around her cock that you struggled to take in full, a large bump visible on your abdomen.

Your hands reached over to Jenna's stomach, hoping to find something to hang on before you feel like you might pass out from her thrusts, feeling her labored breaths through her chest.

You can tell that she was close to her climax too.

"I need to pull out, y/n..." She whispered, her voice all too hot and raspy. Her hands that were seated along your sides a moment ago snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to her, her body tensing up, "'m gonna cum..."

"No! No, please, d-don't go!" A whiny, and all over pathetic, choke of a beg left your abused and marked lips, the though of Jenna pulling away from your pussy was just simply unbearable. "Fill me with your cum Jenna, please!"

"Are you sure, baby?" Jenna husked, her breath getting heavier with each slam.

You clung to her desperately, the hand that was on her stomach trailed over to her forearms, your nails digging into her skin as if you were trying to anchor her to you.

"I can take it..." You whined, begged, pleaded her, "p-please, I can take your huge cock, I'll—mmhph!"

Jenna's lips were pressed onto yours immediately, her lips leaving a faint taste of your juices earlier when she ate you out and with the faint flavor of her lipgloss, tilting her head to grant her even more access.

It was almost embarrassing how you kept moaning even when she has your lips latched onto yours, a string of saliva appearing everytime she tore her soft lips away.

Your hands rushed over to cup her cheeks, bringing her face impossibly closer to yours as you opened your mouth to let her hot tongue slip into yours, your fingers roaming all over her skin while you traced the contours of her face and neck as she made out with you, her tongue sinking in deeper and deeper, fighting a battle you soon surrendered.

You can feel her movements becoming more erratic, desperate, her rhythm starting to falter, yet she remained focused on you and your pleasure alone; her lips never leaving yours as she felt the knot in her stomach tightening.

Jenna tore away from your lips, a whine escaping your mouth from the loss of contact alone, "Fucking slut," she rasped, removing her grip from your body and slapping the plump curve of your ass, "You're gonna cum with me, alright pretty girl? I want your perfect cunt filled with our cum. You can do that for me, right?"

The sting sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine as she delivered a sharp slap to your ass that echoed across the room and managed to elicit a whimper and a gasp from you, your brain reprogramming itself to a primal need within yo to obey her every word.

"Yes, Jenna!" You moaned, your eyes rolling back and your toes curling while a string of desperate pleads left your mouth, begging Jenna to cum inside of you. "I want your cum, baby, please, I need it—Oh, God, fuck!"

Your body came before you can even react, a guttural groan and a pornographic moan came out of your lips while you felt Jenna burry herself deep inside you, her cock pulsing and twitching against your walls as she spilled her hot seed inside of you, her body shivering yet continued doing slow and long strokes to your cunt.

"Jenna! Shit, Jenna!" You cried out her name as you came undone, your chest heaving in exhaustion while letting the both of you ride out eachothers orgasms as you kept purposely clenching against her dick while she kept thrusting.

After a moment, Jenna collapsed against you. You feel her cum going no where but leaking onto the kitchen counter. Her breath came in ragged gasps, almost like she ran a marathon as she buried her face in the crook of your neck.

You look over to her once you came down from your own high, her messy fringe falling over her eyes with her head down low, her hips unintentionally bucking against your wet cunt, her body still shaking with pleasure.

It didn't take a while before she lifted herself up.

And it was still so amazing that her cock was still so hard even if it was still inside of you after cumming in you for like, what? Four times since the both of you woke up in a hot sweat after another intense fuck earlier night that left you silly and senseless.

She looked down at your puffy folds that covered her dick in a new layer of cum, her fingers reaching for your clit to coat them in your own slick and smear it against your lips, a sadistic smile finding its way across her face.

"Look at you… such a slut for me." She relished in the way you immediately opened your mouth to clean her fingers all on your own, your lips hanging open as you gave her the perfect view of your tongue swirling against her fingers while you looked up at her with the prettiest and desperate doe eyes.

"My perfect slut to fuck."

You hummed in agreement, the corners of your lips twitching into a smirk while your mouth eagerly kept sucking on her fingers as you savored the taste of your cum mixed with hers as you moaned softly against her digits, saliva coating her skin.

You know how much she loves it when you put on a show for her.

She called you her pretty girl, slut, whore, cumslut, or maybe her good girl if you obeyed to her orders (which almost never happens), and it always never fails to make your pussy throb in delight and the musky scent of her cock always managed to make you feel as if you were meant to be her cockwarming whore.

It's almost hard to believe this perfect girl was your wife.

"Yours," you whispered breathlessly as Jenna pulled her fingers away from you, drool trailing down to your neck as Jenna traced your body all the way back down to your pulsating heat, leaning in and kissing you dangerously near the lips but never granted you the satisfaction.

You were going insane. Sex and love drunk with her. “Want…" You gasped, words that you finally put together instead of something coherent coming out in a needy whimper as you rolled your hips against her.

She hummed, "Yeah? Want what, y/n?" Jenna teased, her lips tempting to hover over yours and place a gentle peck, her breath hot against your skin.

You whimpered in frustration as you try to sit up with your elbows, your body awaiting to collapse and pass out. "I want you," you finally murmured, your brain remained stuck in a sex drunk haze over her.

If Jenna's smile couldn't get any wider, you'd be wrong. Her eyes darkened just the slightest bit at your pleads as she leaned in closer, kissing your neck while she rubbed slow circles along your clit. "You want me for what, baby?" she murmured, "You need to be more specific to get what you want. You know me."

You let out a frustrated groan, you could almost roll your eyes if they weren't rolling backwards instead of the usual eyeroll, your hips arching up to search for the tiniest amount of friction. "Want your cock… Please."

"But I'm already inside you, pretty girl.” Jenna purred, her fingers slowly increasing in their pace, drawing figure of 8's on your wet and throbbing clit, making your hips subtly buck in stimulation.

"No!" You whined, slightly kicking your legs behind her, squirming beneath her body as you struggled to tell her want you want. "My mouth... fuck my mouth, Jenna, please..."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you baby?" Her hands found themselves in the strands of your hair, slightly tugging on them as she whispered, her words sinful, "Sucking my cock after I fucked you with it?"

"Please..." You whined, "please, I need it, I need you."

You were beginning to slip in that subspace to please her, your mouth opening and closing only to serve as symphony to Jenna's ears by begging and pleading your wants and needs only to be granted with nothing.

Until Jenna shifted her position without a word, pulling back slowly until her cock was free from your dripping heat, watching how cum kept gushing out of your hot cunt. The sudden absence of her dick from your walls left you feeling empty and achingly needy for more, a pathetic wind couldn't help but escape you.

Before you could ask her, Jenna's soft hands was on your hips, effortlessly lifting you up from the kitchen island and bringing you down to your knees as she reached for your shoulders and pushed you down.

"Beg a little more."

Jenna laughed, her lips curving into a grin as she watched you drool over her twitching cock, her hands reaching to grasp her length and began to stroke it up and down, grazing the tip with her thumb, clearly feeling herself without you. "Show me how much you wanna replace my hand with that mouth of yours."

The sight of Jenna pumping her shaft up and down as if your mouth deepthroating the fuck out of her cock wasn't sufficient to satisfy her needs, it was enough for you to beg almost immediately.

"Wanna whore out my mouth on your cock, Jenna." You pleaded, feeling your heart hammer in your chest as you begged for more, "Please, I need it so bad, wanna let you cum down my throat, please Jenna, pleasepleaseplease—"

You were cut off the moment you felt her fingers slip into the strands of your messy hair, pulling you close to her cock and smacked you with the wet length, smothering her pre-cum over your face. You were basically panting at this point, and you needed to stuff your face with her cock.

"Such a needy little slut," she murmured as she pressed her dick against your lips that almost drooled for her, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. "Open up for me, baby, let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours."

Jenna guided the tip of her cock against your lips, slowly letting you savor the taste of her dick before tugging onto your hair to push past your lips and inside of your warmth.

You eagerly welcomed her inside, your mouth stretching to satisfy her thick length as she pushed deeper and harder until she reached the back of your throat, feeling her cock sliding against your tongue as she filled you completely.

You moaned against her cock, feeling your eyes rolling at the back of your head, your spit going no where but drip down your chin. You wanted her out, yet you wanted her deeper, harder, faster.

Jenna's grip on your hair tightened once she began to slam your mouth onto her cock like she always does with your cunt, a relentless pace that continued in all holes that had you gagging, spitting, and whimpering with how much you're struggling to take all of her.

"S-such a pathetic little bitch in heat, oh fuck!" She moaned loudly, her eyes rolling to the back of her head while both of her hands were tangled in your hair, fucking you with fervour as you wrapped your lips so good around her dick to suck her eagerly.

Your tongue swirled around her length, your hands wrapping themselves around her dick to jack her off when the rest of her inches wasn't deep inside of you. You wanted to rest, just for a few moments if not for Jenna ruining your mouth every second.

The sting in your eyes was painful, and the way you realized you aren't used to her large size made you all the more suffer, her thick girth invading every space inside of you.

"Oh, you perfect girl." Jenna groaned, the relentless thrusts of her hands around your head to her cock and the way she was bucking her hips into your mouth made it all the more satisfying for her, "D-deepthroating your wife like a whore."

You reveled in Jenna's praise, looking up at her and giving a little fist-bump to yourself by making America's #1 IT girl become a trembling mess in your hands.

"'M gonna cum in that pretty mouth of yours," she breathed out, "and you're gonna swallow every last drop."

Jenna's thrusts into your warm mouth grew urgent, desperate, simple breaths became a challenge to her.

With a final guttural moan, she slammed your head on her cock, your nose meeting with her abdomen as she emptied herself inside of you.

Jenna's warm load flooded your mouth, closing your eyes as you tried to swallow all of her, letting her ride out her climax with your mouth accompanying every inch of her still throbbing length inside of you.

Once she relaxed, she let go of her firm grip on your hair and you pulled back, licking your lips and savoring the taste of her on your tongue. You wouldn't say it outloud, lest you wanted another delicious and pleasurable fuck with Jenna, you loved the taste of her cum in your mouth and how you looked so hot with her slick all over your face.

Jenna almost collapsed if she didn't catch herself at the last minute on the edge of the counter. Her breaths labored and heavy yet again as she basked herself in the afterglow of her orgasm.

You give her finally softening dick a chaste kiss on the tip before standing up and wrapping your hands on her waist, leaning in to place a tender kiss on her lips and another to one of the freckles that littered her pretty face. "Did I do well, baby?"

Jenna's eyes fluttered open, a lazy smile appearing on her lips with those dimples that you always adored as she looked at you, laughing at how much raspy and husky your voice was after sucking her off.

The both of you were together for almost 10 years, and you never got tired of that smile. Much more so her laughter.

"You were perfect, Y/n, as always. You know that," she replied, "Are you alright? I didn't hurt you?" She wrapped her arms around you in reciprocation and pressed a kiss to your lips. "Oh, God, I can taste myself."

You chuckled softly, "If it makes your day any better, you taste amazing, Jenna. And, yes. I'm fine. More than fine actually!" You kissed her again before pulling away from her grubby hands and bending down to retrieve your lingerie randomly thrown on a spot on the floor.

Jenna watched you with crossed arms to hide the fact that she was resisting herself and using possibly all her might to not go for another round. "You're teasing me."

You grinned as you straightened your back, holding the lingerie in your hands as you turned to face Jenna. "How'd you know?" you admitted, "it's not my fault you can't resist fucking me every second."

Jenna let out a feigned, mock shocked expression, "I'm not even like that!"

You scoffed, walking pass Jenna to get her boxers yourself, "So you're telling me when we got home to our rented beach house for our honeymoon, you decided to fuck me on every surface and continued to do so until we both passed out because...?"

Jenna's lips twitched. "Okay, well—Okay, maybe I am like that. A little bit." She stammered. "You just have that effect on me!" She replied with an exclaimed shrug, trying to look innocent but, of course, she's failing miserably.

You chuckled, "Sure, blame it on my blatant irresistible charm," you tossed her boxers in her direction, shaking your head as you put on your rather drenched undergarments.

She almost looked shy when you turn to her, complete the opposite of that dominant aura you felt around her just mere moments ago. "Did you... did you like it? The sex, I mean."

I swear, I could marry this woman all over again, you thought to yourself before approaching her and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "I wouldn't have been screaming your name all night if I didn't."

Jenna's cheeks flushed slightly at your words, her dimples appearing visible than ever, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she put on her boxers. "Oh, thank God. I would've off'd myself if otherwise."

You pressed your lips onto Jenna's, giggling as you felt a small smile form beneath you, "I bet the food on the table turned cold. And also probably swarming with flies."

"You can't bet on something that's already so obvious you're gonna win!"

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It was already noon when the two of you ate breakfast. And you were right. The food was cold. But it was fine, you can handle a cold meal if you were manhandled by a hot woman.

Ever since you and Jenna finally got married after years of dating eachother, you were living in pure bliss.

After the wedding and horribly, gutwrenching, romantic and truly poetic vows coming from Jenna that made you cry even after the ceremony, the both of you decided to go on a honeymoon trip on a much more coastal setting to take your mind off of work and her mind off of Hollywood.

But you wouldn't have predicted that Jenna would fuck you on every surface she could rail you on with the possibility of you passing out on every single one of them.

In the span of a week, Jenna came in you atleast twenty-five times and that wasn't even including the times she pulled out. You were thankful you packed a fuck ton of birth control pills anyway.

You didn't know what came over her or how did she exactly get the stamina of a rabbit fucking their mate, but you couldn't be mad. Not ever. You enjoyed every moment on how she roughly fucked you well into late night everytime the both of you went home.

Or maybe the times where she fucked you in public.

You couldn't count the number of times Jenna had teased you in public, or how her touchy hands kept exploring every inch of your body as you tried to maintain composure surrounded by countless of tourists, or maybe how many minutes—hours, even— she would spend begging for you to pack a sex toy for the both of you.

Obviously, that ended up with Jenna getting a 10-minute scolding.

But aside from sexual activities you and Jenna somehow couldn't get enough of, the both of you enjoyed time spent with each other by going on walks with the soft breeze hitting your skin, swimming around and just floating on water, boating, diving, just basically anything you could do in the Bahamas.

Now, unfortunately, the trip has to come to an end somehow.

"Our flight leaves early tomorrow, baby." You reminded her, the hot water and steam coming from the shower hitting your skin was far too relaxing.

Plus, your wife was right behind you. Massaging your scalp with a shampoo she always uses, humming a tune that the both of you loved and even used as your wedding theme. It always makes you so happy and excited whenever you have the exact scent as Jenna.

"Alright," she cooed, leaning in softly from your side and planting a kiss to your soft cheeks that you couldn't help but smile at. She always had this effect on you, and it never wore out. "I'll help you pack."

You turned to face Jenna, unknowingly having a wide smile across your face. "You don't know how much I love you, Jenna. I don't know how I will ever repay you."

It was moments like these you forget on how much Jenna actually loves you from the deepest, darkest depths of her heart. She could literally be possessed by some evil spirit, yet she would still find a way to show the light you always loved in her.

Jenna chuckled softly, dipping her hands on the water to clean them before reaching up to cup your face. "I love you too, baby. Too much." She leans in and presses a gentle and tender kiss on your soft lips.

"And, also, you can repay me by..."

"Jenna, we are not fucking in the shower. Again."

"I didn't even finish my sentence!"

"Your mind and dick think alike more than they should."

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Jenna, being Jenna, somehow got through your defenses and convinced you to have yet another quick fuck in the shower. You hate not being able to resist to those big brown, simply down-right gorgeous, doe eyes of hers—they were unfortunately and simply irresistible in your gaze.

After drying off and struggling to walk out of the shower without clutching the walls as support for your weak and shaky legs, you both went to separate rooms to tidy up and organize luggage.

Not long after, you heard the familiar voice of your sweet and lovable girlfriend wife peeking through the door, bundled up in her sweats with a blanket draped around her shoulders. "Y/n?"

"Jenna!" A smile spread across your face as you rose from your angel-sitting position, arms open wide to invite her into a warm hug, in which she immediately crashed and melted into your arms, returning the hug with equal tightness if not more.

"Are you done?" Your hand gently ran through her hair as she buried her head in the crook of your neck, offering a subtle massage to her skull. "You look cozy as ever."

You felt Jenna sigh against your skin, her warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "No, I just missed you," she murmured softly.

You chuckled, "We were literally just one room apart."

Jenna scoffed as she looked up at you. It was almost unbelievable this was the same woman who was ruining you moments before. "Is it a crime to miss my terribly gorgeous and incredibly talented wife?"

"If you keep looking at me like that, it might be," you teased back, leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead. "You're too adorable, baby."

"I could say the same about you, pretty girl" Jenna pulled away from the hug after giving a playful wink, settling comfortably on the king-sized bed offered by the beach house. A pile of unfolded clothes dipped to her, which she began to fold and toss in your direction.

The perfect wife, you'd say so yourself.

"…Is that my hoodie?" She paused, hesitating for a moment before tossing you a a neatly folded piece of clothing. "I was wondering where it went."

"Oh," you glanced down at the clothes you were wearing, realizing you had been wearing Jenna's hoodie without even realizing it. In your defense, it was easy to forget she had her own wardrobe when you spent so much time together. She often wears clothes bigger than her size anyways. "Yeah, I guess so," you chuckled.

"I used up all of my clothes, so I figured you wouldn't mind if I borrowed some of yours," You gestured to the garment over your hands, finding it to be one of yours, used yet it still had that faint scent of perfume.

You'd think it was all in good fun, that you were going to leave this honeymoon alive until you caught Jenna's gaze. It was unusually intense, dark, as if she was playing Wednesday Addams. "I'll return it, Jenna. Don't worry." No, you won't. There is not even a single time in your life where you actually returned her clothes.

But you knew that look all too well—it was the same one she gives you when she's about to completely bend and fuck you that'll have you seeing stars in your vision until you're practically begging and screaming for her to stop.

"Y/n," she murmured, her voice laced with desire. It didn't take long before you noticed the unmistakable bulge forming inside her sweats. "Can you come here, baby?"

You didn't think twice before approaching her, not even taking a silent moment if you should tease her or not—you knew what that would get you.

As you approached her, Jenna's hands found their way to your hips, pulling you closer until you were standing kneeling between her thighs, the cushion dipping ever so slightly as both of your bodies were pressed together.

Her hands were soft, hot, even through the fabric of her own hoodie you could feel it as they made their way underneath her your clothes. It was painful, agonizing, the warmth heat that was pooling between your thighs when you felt the bulge in her sweats pressing against yours.

"Jenna," you breathed out, hot breath that traveled inside her skin, slight laughter in your voice, "Are you seriously-"

Without a word or hesitation, she reached up and cupped your face in her free hand, drawing you mere inches away from her lips until you met her own. She was needy, desperate, like she was deprived of you.

"I'll love it when you finally decide to return my clothes." she murmured between each kiss, "But you know what I'll love more?"

"Yeah?" You whispered, hands pressed against her chest, feeling her head tilt near neck, pressing tantalizing kisses along your skin as she reached your ear.

"When you're wearing nothing but my clothes, bending over and letting me fuck you raw."

A low moan threatened to escape your lips as she painted kisses along your neck like you were a canvas for her to ruin. "Fuck," you whimpered, feeling yourself getting wetter for her, "Jenna, I—"

You were far too intoxicated, gone, like she took immediate control what your body wants as soon as you caught her length erect and free from her sweats, pumping down on her cock as she looked up at you.

"Jenna," you whined as her fingers dangerously sliding into the waistband of your own sweats, "We have an early flight tomorrow."

Her breath, warm against your skin, "I'll set an alarm, baby, don't worry." She whispered as she slowly discarded your pants along with your undergarments, searching your eyes for a slight chance of discomfort or a chance you'll pull her away.

Of course you didn't. Jenna was persuasive with her words, and amazing with her cock inside of you. How could you ever decline her?

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You woke up at 3:30.

Atleast 30 minutes before Jenna's alarm.

The room was quiet, dark, peaceful—most especially when you have a pair of soft and loving arms wrapped around you like you were a teddy bear Jenna couldn't be bothered to throw out even when she got older.

Way too in contrast than the way she fucked you well into passing out.

It took long before you were out of her cuddly grasp, hearing her soft whines as you shuffled yourself out, only to realize your legs were far too exhausted to even walk to the bathroom.

Maybe she was too good.

You looked like a mess in front of the mirror. A hot one. Every patch of skin was replaced with faint marks and hickeys all over your body, your hair disheveled, and Jenna's hoodie you were wearing was horribly stained with lines and ropes of dried cum.

Fuck, she was driving you insane.

"Y/nnnnnn...!" She groaned out for you outside of the bathroom. You turned around with your toothbrush in hand, only to see she was standing in front of the door with her body bundled up tightly in blankets.

Oh, so now she can be cute and adorable?

You couldn't help but chuckle, a faint smile leaving your lips. Jenna looked equally as disheveled, but it was unfair on how absolutely gorgeous she still looked. Still, you couldn't believe you were even someone she loved.

"C'mere, Jenna." You exclaimed, putting on toothpaste as you look at her, "Don't bring the blanket."

She all but walked towards you, crashing into your body as she kissed caught your lips in yet another kiss.

You let out a soft chuckle against her lips, grabbing a hold of the edge counter while you stumbled back as Jenna moved her body right against yours, deepening the lock she had on your lips.

She always felt tender, gentle, right in all words. Maybe peace even. Her presence was familiar as her lips were. Like a second home to you.

"I'd like to continue my routine, baby," you smiled, breaking the kiss but you kept her close, your foreheads resting against eachother.

"Mm," she hummed, closing her eyes as she made her way to your neck, kissing all the way down, "And I'd like for us to go back in bed and—"

"Jenna." You interrupted her, a stern voice you had even if you so and desperately wanted her to ruin you yet again, you gently pushed her back and kissed her on the lips. "We have a flight, remember?"

She, being the lovely Jenna Ortega you knew and loved, didn't have the heart to pull away from you. Her lips turning into the sweetest pout. "But I—!"

Unfortunately for you, you became somewhat immune to her pouts. After 10 fucking years.

"If we get there in 7, I'll let you do anything to me."

The phrase 'anything' wasn't everything to Jenna. Unless it happened to be coming from you. That's the time where she gets interested and everything in her way gets blown off the face of the earth.

"Anything?"

"I'll let you fuck me on the plane."

Before you knew it, everything was packed and the beach house was so tidy, you'd think the both of you never went on a honeymoon. Plus, the both of you arrived at 6.

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It was a few weeks after the both of you had arrived at Jenna's apartment, or much rather your apartment too.

Till that day, you will never forget how good she fucked you on that plane. Bent over with your panties stuffed in your mouth and her cock ramming into your pussy while you watched yourself get fucked from behind in the mirror.

But one thing was for certain: Thom Browne was a gift from the fucking heavens. You might have to praise and worship him everyday for granting the world Jenna Marie Ortega in Thom Browne Clothing™

It was shameful for you to admit, but it took all your willpower and resistance to not pull her by that stupid tie she has on, pull down everything from her skirt to her boxers, let her slam your cunt down on her cock and let her completely ruin you from behind. Or maybe you'd ride her until you're fucked into oblivion.

It was a crisp morning of another day Jenna in your arms like always.

Nothing changed when the both of you got married, just the way she would always introduce you to her friends as her wife. Even if they already met you like a thousand times.

She was so proud of it, you'd think she wiped off girlfriend from her vocabulary entirely and replaced it with wife.

Jenna, her body pressed against yours as she buried her head on your nape, her breaths soft and tiny on your skin, it always never fails to make you sigh internally and thank everyone and everything in the world that you were even born.

But her grip was tighter than usual. Her kisses happened almost every second, even if you weren't there with her. Everytime you were in her vicinity, she always manages to ask you if something was off or wrong about your day.

Obviously, this wasn't completely out of the ordinary. Jenna was a sweet and overall caring lover to you, but it's almost everyday.

She wasn't acting weird, but you were.

You found yourself feeling more tired than usual, your body ached of pain, and certain smells made you nauseous out of nowhere. Of course, Jenna was the exception, her scent always manages to calm you down. But without it, you'll simply spiral.

At first, you brushed it off as stress or just a normal change in your routine after the honeymoon. It definitely wasn't your period, or so you thought, since often times they come and go irregularly.

You'd think it'll be alright, that it was just a cold.

Until you start feeling nauseous, bile coming out of your throat even if you hadn't eaten anything.

Shit.

Fuck, no, no.

Please, no.

"Y/n! Y/n, oh, God, are you okay?"

Everything was falling apart, you'd think to yourself.

That was until Jenna's voice brought you back alive.

"Y/n!" She yelled in front of the doorway, her eyes look worried. Concerned, maybe even a tinge of sadness from them.

She found you huddled on the floor, clutching your stomach as a pregnancy test thrown beside you out of a fit of shock meddled with anger.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, no matter how much force you exerted to push them back up. You don't want to cry, not in front of her. It breaks your heart. But how could you if she's looking at you like that?

"Y/n?" Jenna's voice broke through the haze, kneeling down while her hands softly pulled you into her embrace as she moved your hair out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, soothingly rubbing on your back as she waited for a few seconds to talk. "It's okay, Y/n. I'm here, I'm so sorry, it's okay, I'm here with you. You're safe."

"Y/n, talk to me, please." Her voice quivered, her bottom lip shaking as she cupped your cheeks. "You've been acting strange, please tell me what's wrong, love."

You felt Jenna's touch grounding you down, leading you to peace and something alike to home.

"Jenna. Jenna, I—I'm pregnant."

Your voice cracked, tears threatening to spill over as you struggled to find the right words. It wasn't the news you dread, but Jenna's reaction.

Would she kick you out? Would she reject you? Would she tell you that she's disgusted, embarrassed? She definitely would. You'd think to yourself.

You expect her to yell at you, leave you in a devastating state, that she'd divorce you and you were never even allowed to show your face to hers ever again. Fear and doubt crept into your mind more than it should've. Jenna loved you, more than anything else, more than herself. Would she love you now?

"....What?" Her hand fell from you, her mouth hung open. Was she devastated? Mad? Joyful? Angry? Happy?

"I—I'm so sorry, Jenna." You cried. You cried to her, you couldn't even show your face yet you cried—weeped to her. "I must've skipped a pill, or I—I just forgot to take one. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—I didn't mean for this to happen, I—" Your explanation felt meaningless, the words tumbling out of your mouth in a desperate attempt to fill the void of silence Jenna gave you.

The bathroom felt colder, emptier.

But there was always light in the darkness you've pushed yourself in. You're lucky enough for your light to be someone you loved.

Jenna's arms were wrapped around you in a mere second, like she only now processed the information, pulling you into a tight hug. Her touch was warm, light, happiness, comfort, everything. Like you fell in love once again.

"We're pregnant…" She whispered into your ear, you can feel a smile forming in your lips. But that was hard to believe.

It was surreal, almost unbelievable when you first saw the results. You were worried about her reaction, but hearing Jenna say it filled you with nothing but happiness and excitement. You leaned back slightly to look into her eyes, seeing the joy you hoped to see reflected in her gaze, but much happier.

"Holy shit, you're pregnant!" She exclaimed, a wide smile—dimples and all—appeared from her face. She was joy in of itself, her smile brightening as the corners of her lips looked so satisfying to kiss.

"Wha...?" You opened your eyes, only to see one of the prettiest ones gazing at you as if you gave her life. "You're.... you're not mad?"

Jenna's smile only widened at your question. You'd think devotion couldn't get any higher, but Jenna always succeeds in tearing down your expectations and happens to build new ones.

"Mad? Why would I be mad, baby?" she said softly, "I mean, sure, it's a bit unexpected, but…" She paused, reaching out to gently brush a stray hair away from your face as well as a tear that escaped your eyes. "I couldn't be happier. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression I was going to be."

God, you loved this woman. Is second marriage possible?

"Oh, my God, this is the best day of my life! Well, apart from our wedding day, of course. Wait, am I gonna be a mom? Holy shit I'm gonna be a mother, you're gonna be a mother! Oh, I'm so going to introduce her—or him— to our favorite movies! Well, maybe not in their baby life, but later! Oh right, What should our childs name be? I was thinking of a mix of ours, maybe—"

You couldn't help but laugh through the tears, and how absurd it was how Jenna was already planning a future for your child with her on the bathroom floor. Her energy was infections and those people all over the internet saying that she's just like her character Wednesday, or she has no soul.

They're dead wrong. She's like peace that comes with conflict, she's every living poets dream.

"Jenna, slow down for a bit," you chuckled. "You're getting ahead of yourself."

But you couldn't deny that you were just as thrilled as she was. "You'll be amazing as a mother, I'm sure of it."

Jenna nodded, "I'll keep you and the little one safe. Dating me—let alone letting the whole world know we're married—it'll be a handful." She took your hand, kissed every individual knuckle there is, as if she was promising an oath she'd take to her afterlife.

"I love you, y/n. So much. Shit, I can't believe we're gonna have a child!"

You laughed. "Same here, baby. I love you too, Jenna."

Maybe you did enjoy this so-called honeymoon phase.

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J: hey, y/n, is it weird i wanna fuck another one into you? Y: if you say it like that, it is.

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a/n: i loved writing this request but im not so exactly proud of how i worded it. idk, lmk what yall think! this was originally going to be 10k+ words because of the countless amounts of sex scenes i added, but i thought that was too much. + kinda amazing how i could switch from writing the fluffiest shit there is to straight up porn on paper. (partially dedicate for u babes xx @ajortga ill post more sub!r in the future)

Could you possibly do a story where Tara and Y/N get caught in the middle of fucking by Sam??

(Can be Tara x Fem!Reader, Gp!Tara x Fem!Reader, or Tara x Gp!Reader.)

my sister!?

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x GP!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 4k

Warnings/tags: immediate smut, pretend the carpenters have a house and not a shared apartment in new york, protective sam carpenter!!!!!, no ghostface au

a/n: writers block is KILLING me, feelin like i cant write shit

masterlist.

An innocent study night with Tara was impossible.

"Tara—Tara, oh f-fuck, you're taking me so well..."

The sight of Tara beneath you should be a sin of its own; tears stinging her eyes locked on yours with mascara running down her cheeks, her soft, abused lipstick-stained lips parting for pathetic notes of moans and whimpers. Strands of hair lay in a mess on her mattress you relentlessly ruined her on every night she asked of you to.

Every sound she made drove you to closer to insanity, knowing you could worship her everyday for every sin you committed since meeting her. The way her body responded to the slightest thrust was intoxicating, addicting—so fucking addicting. Her fingers clutched on her sheets as if they could help her, knuckles turning white.

Tara's eyes fluttered open after rolling back in pure ecstasy, letting out soft moans with your cock fitting so right and full inside of her. She was barely holding out on her own, you were just so fucking hot and sexy like this, who could blame her?

"More," she cried, voice trembling while she wrapped her arms around your neck to bring you closer, "Please—Fuck! Y/n, y/n, please I—"

She moaned your name as if it was a prayer, her voice alone making your knees weak. Her body arched into yours, seeking more—always for more. Even with your hands steady on her hips, she moved with a mind of her own in her cock-drunk state.

Your grip on her waist tightened, fingers almost bruising her perfect, soft skin as you buried yourself deeper inside her. Her name fell shamelessly from your lips as you felt an aching knot forming in your stomach.

"Tara—I'm so... fuck, m' so close..." you breathed, pupils blown out as you locked eyes with her. Her eyes, everything about her was desperate, fuck, you both were.

Tara—breathless and spent from being so stretched—nodded frantically, her lips pathetically opening and closing almost immediately as if she could say anything other than your name and soft moans.

"Close.. close, too." She gulped, breath hitching, eyes rolling to the back of her head, feeling every inch of you so deliciously deep inside of her. "Fuck, don't stop!"

You were so close, so close to feeling Tara's walls clenching against you that could make every sense in your body go dumb fucking weak and numb, your name dangerously on the tip of her tongue while she goes onto levels higher than cloud 9 as you help her ride out her orgasm.

Close, Tara's so close, so close, fuck, fuck fuck—

When you came, Tara came down hard. Her figure perfectly arched as you rocked your hips back and forth inside of her, the both of you falling into silent moans and hot breaths.

"Tara... are you alright? Shit, Tara, you feel so goo..."

A door opened.

"What the fuck."

Sam. Carpenter. Standing.

You. Tara. On. Bed.

Sam Carpenter, Tara Carpenter. Carpenters.

You. Not Carpenter. Definitely not after today.

Sisters. Right-

FUCK.

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How batshit, totally and flat out embarrassing it would be to be caught having rough sex with your girlfriend in the middle of the night at her house when you're supposed to be studying?

No, it would be fine, very fine actually if it was one of the gang. Hell, you'd take Mindy or Chad any day opening the door to see you and Tara fucking around. You'd live with it and wear it like a fucking badge of honor.

If it wasn't her damn sister.

Sam already despised you for being Tara's girlfriend! You couldn't even hold her close for more than thirty seconds without Sam threatening to grab a hammer and bash your skull in.

What's even worse than that is how she led you both down stairs after awkwardly cleaning up and she's now pacing back and forth in front of the couch Sam pushed you on.

"Sam, you're being overdramatic, we're not those sex-obsessed teens that need counseling." Tara, arms crossed with an adorable pout (you'd defend that pout to your last breath), tackled before her sister could even say anything. "I'm 21 for fucks sake!"

"Oh, Tara, don't even get me started—You literally just turned into the legal drinking age two fucking weeks ago!" Sam stopped in her tracks, pointing at Tara with probably the most killer eyes a killer would kill.

"So—!?"

Sam cut her off before Tara could even say anything, her gaze now directed towards you. "And you," oh shit, you were in for it, "My sister!? That's very low of you, Y/n—"

"Oh, y/n was definitely going low on—"

"Yup, okay, no, stop—Tara." You quickly covered Tara's mouth with your hand before she could further damage your already very rocky relationship with Sam. Come on, you still wanted to be invited to Thanksgiving and Christmas!

"Sam." You took a deep breath, "I am truly sorry for… uhm… doing that. I know that you're being protective and I too would hang myself if I ever hurt Tara in anyway—"

"Mostly sexually." Tara chimed in the background, a shit-eating smirk on her face.

Sam tilted her head like some kind of horror movie scare, "Do you wanna explain what the fuck I just heard from my younger sister, y/n?"

"No, no! I haven't hurt Tara in that way, I swear—!"

"Probably because it felt so good."

You turned to Tara, face twisted for dear life, "Tara do you want my ass kicked or not!?"

Sadly for your long-lived lifespan, Sam was already towering over you.

"It was an accident, I promise, and I—!"

"So you just accidentally slipped and magically ended up being inside my sister for hours?"

Okay, maybe suicide really is the better option. How the fuck do you even respond to that!?

"I—" Fuck, shit, fuck, dick, how do you breathe!? "Well, I... I wouldn't phrase it like that—"

"You know the walls are thin?"

"Y..yes, I'm very sure and—"

"The whole damn house was barely holding up, I thought a fucking 9.8 magnitude earthquake started when I opened the door!"

"We... We are so sorry—"

"And you're also sure that I'd eventually slit your throat in half?"

"Sam, please, I really am s—"

"You know I have a fucking taser in my pocket? The only reason that's restraining me from using it because Tara's sees you as someone alright."

"...Uhm, sweet, but Sam—"

You would thank the heavens for such an assertive and a somehow kind of rebellious to her sisters wishes girlfriend by how Tara stood up so abruptly that a very poor and sad excuse of an excuse in your mind went away.

"You want an apology, Sam?" She tilted her head as she stepped forward, "I'll give you a fucking apology." You know, for a 5 foot nothing girl, she can definitely throw hands. Or words.

"We... are sorry. Actually, Y/n's—"

"Oh my god." You whined in the background.

"Y/n's very sorry for fucking—"

"Okay, no, stop." You interrupted immediately. Why the term!? Infront of her sister!?

"Having sex—!"

"No."

"Intercourse—!"

"No."

"Having... Having coitus—!"

"No, why the hell would you use that!?"

"Making love!"

"Best you could do."

"Y/n's very sorry for being so damn good making love to me in bed, making my mattress squeak louder than a fucking banshee with her cock ramming and giving me multiple orgasms that Danny can't even—!"

"Alllright, I'm stopping you before you get legally disowned at the age of 21" You grabbed Tara by her arms and lifted her up before your entire sex life with her comes tumbling down on your girlfriends sister.

The room was silent. Almost too silent, you swear you could go deaf if more than a second even passes by. Not even a rolling surge of tumbleweed could make it seem less awkward than it is. Even your dignity left.

That was until you heard Sam taking a deep breath.

Before you knew it, you were kicked out of the house with Tara's voice behind you literally defending by describing, in horrific detail, how good you were in bed until Sam shut her up.

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The walk home was and felt downright shameful, even the traffic lights refused to turn green for you. It's like you have a bindle attached to your palms to forever ingrain the memory of Sam's face while you were literally inches deep in Tara.

You crash into your apartment a minute later after fiddling with your keys, not even bothering to take off your coat. You just collapse onto the atleast comfortable carpet floor and let the mites decompose your entire body.

But not even god himself can let you mellow in your own embarrassment, sadness, awkwardness—literally all of the above—without your phone ringing at one of the worst times in your life. Soon you'll hope it'll be seven trumpets.

You blinked from your spot on the floor. It was too good and too much effort to even sit up properly and take the call.

With a soft groan, you roll over like a ragdoll, fumbling for your phone deep in your pockets. You were ready to decline right there and there, or maybe be a dick and answer just to hang up a second later after swearing at them.

Until you saw the name Tara Carpenter with a heart emoji beside it.

Of course, against your better judgment, you answer. How could you not?

"Can you come over?"

Tara's soft voice whispers over the phone, you can almost picture her twisting and turning on her bed, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

You sigh heavily, managing to croak out a response, "Tara... you know I can't—"

"Please?"

You swallow hard, heart pounding in your chest. She's using that voice that you're so sure could lead to you prison. You're just so glad you're not there in person to see her beautiful brown doe eyes.

You stand up abruptly, clearing your throat. "It's only been 30 minutes since Sam caught us and practically banished me from your home. How am I supposed to—"

"It’s like you’ve never snuck out before!"

"This time it’s serious, Tara! Pretty sure Sam literally hates my guts by now."

There's a pause that interrupts your thoughts, the line going completely silent, wondering if Tara got so irritated she actually hung up on you.

"...Tara?"

"I have windows." She responds, as if she's snapping her two fingers together, "You can sneak in through one."

You smiled. Of course she'd think of this now when all the times you've "snuck" in was through their door (surprisingly, it always worked in the middle of the night.)

"Thought Sam nailed them shut after hearing about a loose serial killer?"

"Found out it’s bullshit, just some teenagers having the trip to scare people for fun. Just—Please."

You roll your eyes, "Okay, well, I'm not going to risk my life—"

"You already are, I can hear you over the phone packing your shit."

Oh, how this girl knows you so well.

You zip up your bag while having your phone pinched between your ear and shoulder, "Yeah, see you in a bit."

The brunette chuckles over your words, you could already see her standing up and opening her window from the sounds you hear. Heavenly.

"Damn, you love me."

"Horribly. Say it back?"

"I will when you get here. Hurry, please."

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It took a long while to reach the Carpenters' house and even longer to actually go up to Tara's window. Climbing a nearby tree and swinging over like Tarzan was a real pain in the ass.

When you finally reach her window, you see Tara lying on her bed, headphones blaring so loudly you can hear the music from outside, plus she's wearing an oversized graphic tee that you're pretty sure is yours.

"Tara!" you call out, knocking on the side of the wall, your shoes gripping the bricks as you wait for her to notice your figure clinging onto a roof for dear life just outside.

Tara doesn't hear you at first, courtesy of the headphones you bought her for her 18th birthday. You knocked a bit louder, but not too loud Sam suspects something.

You have half a mind to just go in unannounced when Tara finally looks up and immediately rushes over your side.

"You know, it's actually harsh to keep a girl wai—"

You were wrapped between her arms before you could even finish.

Tara's lips met yours in a way you melt instantly beneath her breathless, parting her lips and tilting her head to give herself better access inside of you.

She's soft in your arms, yet so eager by how she's gripping the collar of your shirt and pulling you as if you could be any more entwined.

"You kept me waiting." She breaks only to whisper, words coming in a rasp with her breath hot on your lips as she draws you in for more of her.

You're dizzy, hazed, intoxicated, completely fucked by how her tongue presses on yours so painfully heavenly and her teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. You could stumble around your words if she let you to speak. Your hands could go nowhere but on their perfect place on her waist.

Her fingers trail against your skin, tangling within the strands of hair only to pull you more closer to her, forcing your head to tilt at an angle that could make her invade all the right places inside of you.

You sigh in her mouth before regrettably pushing her away, "You wanted to see me?"

Tara's lips curve as she she presses herself against you, her hands traveling from your chest to your face, brushing her fingers gently against your cheek. The mere motion sending cold shivers down your spine that reminds you of your cock slowly growing beneath layers of fabric.

"Fuck that, I needed you." She murmurs, your heart running faster than the way her breathing goes after making out with you. Her hands seemingly wanting nothing more than to roam over your body, tracing all the way down to palm your growing erection underneath your shorts.

A low groan escaped your lips, yours hands finding their way down to softly cup the curve of her ass. "Tara please, don't..."

"Hm," she hums softly, brown eyes filled with nothing but lost gazing directly at your own, "You know I can't resist you, especially when I have you like this," Her voice is teasing. Tantalizing, even, marked with an innocent smile on her face as if she's not an inch away of giving you a handjob.

A chaste peck on your lips was enough for you to spiral and your dick to throb from its clothed prison, her fingers tracing lazy circles around your cock until she stopped at the dip of the waistbands of your shorts.

"You wanna fuck me first, or should I take the lead?"

Your mind raced, cock twitching from her voice alone, words spent while your breathing was anything but calm, pupils blown out and dilated as you looked at the brunette. But there's only one answer that she needed from you.

Without a word, your hands slid under her thighs, effortlessly lifting her up from the floor and straddling her figure down to her ass at your arms, earning a startled hum from the girl.

Her arms went around your neck, one hand trailing from your nape to the strands of your hair, pulling your head closer to her, meeting your lips in an immediate kiss that had Tara moaning and desperately bucking her hips.

You carried her to bed with her legs wrapped tightly around your waist while her hands lingered on your neck, fingers delicately tracing your jawline while she ravished your mouth alone.

Tara was sloppy with you, kisses so wet and desperate, her tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. She was filthy by how she gazed at you with eyes as if she was innocent, how she let her fingers roam your body in all the right places that had your dick leaking.

With a soft groan, you laid her down on the bed, your hands moving to grip her hips as she continued to explore your mouth, not once did she pull away. Not even to spare a breath.

But, you surrendered to her, pulling her away with a string of saliva connecting your lips together.

Fuck, she looked divine.

A sight you always saw in the middle of the night, yet not even the light could take you away from her. Lips stained with mixed saliva from the both of you. Even with your own inches away, her lips stay parted as she pants for air.

It took you a while before you even noticed Tara and you were completely naked, the small girl revealing to be wearing nothing the whole time you were there.

"Shit, Tara. You were wearing nothing but my shirt?" You rasped, breathing heavily while you placed your arms in between her head to push yourself up.

She smiled, chuckled even as she looked at you, hands traveling from your neck down to your chest, "You know I love putting on a show for you, baby." She winked as her fingers ghosted over your nipples, touch so warm and delicate before sliding lower, tracing the lines of your abs. "Fuck, you're so hot like this."

You shivered underneath her touch, even forgetting you were the one who brought her to such a state, yet you were the one who looked pathetic. Whining and completely whimpering on top of her.

You swallow hard, trying to maintain even the slightest bit of dignity and control. "Tara," you whisper, "You're driving me crazy."

She giggles softly, "Good," she murmurs before grasping your wrist and guiding your hand to the waistband of your shorts. "That's exactly what I want to do. Just fuck me, please."

You couldn't hold back any longer as you pulled down your shorts, boxers sliding down your waist as your aching cock springing out, slapping against your chest while it stood tall and hard for seven inches.

Your hand slipped between your bodies to grasp the throbbing length, tip dripping with pre-cum as your thumb grazed over the slit. "Wanna see how good you take me, Tara." You wrapped your fingers around your cock, stroking it up and down as you guided it along her slick folds. "Fuck, you're soaked."

"Stop… Stop teasing, please, oH GOD!"

Tara's hands frantically had a tight grip on your shoulders as you shoved every inch of you inside of her, breath erratic as she tried to suppress every moan down in her throat, her back arching off the bed as you penetrated her so deep

The intense stretch made her eyes flutter open, rolling into the back of head, letting out tears from the pain as her toes curled in pleasure.

You weren't holding up either, she took you so well, her red velvety and slick walls tightening around your cock drove you into a haze. Her nails leaving red marks in their wake on your back, the atmosphere filled with the sounds of skin against skin, gasps and moans of pleasure from Tara increasingly getting louder.

"F-fuck… Oh, fuck!" She gasped, moving her hips to the rhythm of her trusts as you grabbed both of her legs and pulled her closer to you, "Yeah.. Yeah, right there baby!"

All you could think about were her soft moans, face crying from a mixture of pain and pleasure from being stuffed to the brim, keeping a steady pace that had her a moaning mess on your hands.

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You know, Sam always had weird dreams. Weirder than the next, gory than anything from the amount of horror movies she watched along with her younger sister, Tara.

Anything you could do to Sam, she would barely give one or two fucks. Scary movie? More of a boring sit-com that tries to give characters motive and plot some development. Jumpscare her? Reality or movies, either way, you're getting a jumpscare yourself by a hospital bill after she's done with you.

She fears nothing. Except when she woke up just now, hearing her younger sisters voice down the hallway from her room.

Oh my fucking, GOD.

She hopes it'll be a dream, she'd take anything but this. Ever since Tara got a girlfriend, you were nothing but a pain in the ass for her. I mean, she trusts you, sure, but not that enough.

The older Carpenter gets up almost immediately, eyebrows furrowed while her heart heaved with anger. And most probably wrath, and an apology to Tara if she ever found out that her girlfriend was bashed on the skull by her sister.

Every walk she made, the noises got louder yet softer. By the time she was at her door, the noises dropped. Was it all a dream? A nightmare maybe? She'd take that any day.

"Tara!" She yelled out as she took notice of the light illuminating on the creaks of her room., softly knocking on her door. Even if you were there, it's still a 50/50 chance that Tara's actually sleeping. Or sleepwalking even.

She waits for a second.

Then two.

Three.

Four—Okay, no, she's opening the damn door.

She turns the doorknob and immediately bursts into the room. Her eyes scanning the space for any signs of you.

There doesn't seem to be anything.

Her eyes immediately spotted Tara. Or maybe half of her peeking out of the soft blanket with a pillow in between her legs. The only thing that seemed out of place was her window open.

She was about to move a lazy strand of hair away from her face, her hand was already hovering over her body. That was until Tara moved on her own. Murmuring something about some TV show. Or a cinema date, whatever it is that involved your godforsaken name.

"Thank God, that scared me." Sam whispered to herself before going over to Tara's bed, eyes still wandering over Tara's sleeping (?) face before standing up and leaving the room.

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You popped out of the blanket that was covering both you and Tara after giving her one of the best orgasms she's ever had. But the heart attack you both experienced when you heard Sam's footsteps was not fucking it!

A tense breath escapes your lips, relief flooding through you as you look at Tara, post-orgasm. Her eyes are dazed, a silly smile adorning her face.

"Tara, seriously, do you never lock your doors?" you whisper to her, arms sliding on her back to flip the both of you over. Your hands cupping her cheeks, trailing her jawline while you tucked a strand of hair behind her ears.

Tara's laughter rings out softly in the quiet, her cheeks flushed with her chest heaving. There was always something you loved about her smile, her laugh. Sure it was because it was like a taste of heaven as some pathetic human, but… Dimples. Dim-fucking-ples.

She rolls her eyes, letting her head fall on your collarbone. "I have Sam Carpenter in my bloodline, it's pointless."

"Don't be so hard on her." You stroke her hair gently, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "She's just looking out for you," you remind her, tone soft with understanding.

She sighs against your skin. "She's overdoing it. Like, I can throw a punch. Did you not see the fight I pulled with that dick from a party in the middle of nowhere may I remind you? I could've sworn Mindy sent the video to you!"

"Yeah Tara, but you're also an A24 chick who could memorize the full script of The Babadook, I love you for it baby." You laughed. "But Sam is just looking out for you. Especially me, I literally just fucked her sister in her house."

Tara looks up at you. Batting her eyelashes and smirking while she tilted her head, planting a chaste kiss near your lips, but not near enough you could taste her. "And you fucked her so well."

"We are not having another round, Tara."

"You know me so well it's fucking irritating. Can you just not?" She scoffs, but only playfully.

"But you actually should lock them, it's a safety hazard."

"Mhm, and you should let me ride you." She turns to the side, falling over your body, her hands tracing the soft dips and your toned abs.

"After that heart attack? No, Tara."

"Yeah?" She cocked her head, "Then why not give me more reasons why you're still hard."

"Oh..." You looked down. Fuck, you are. "Oh, fuck you."

"I'm hoping you will."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head before turning to her side, "By the way, you never said the thing."

She wrapped her arms around your body as you faced her. "Oh, what thing this time, baby?"

You sigh.

"I love you."

Tara laughs. She knew what you wanted.

"I love you too."

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a/n: im back!