siciliana123

[siciliana123]

don’t dawdle

pairings: wednesday x fem!reader

warnings: smut, strap-on sex (w receiving)

request: can i make a request of Wednesday who usually tops fem!reader but after a certain moment (perhaps a new haircut, outfit), Wednesday makes an odd request of r using the strap this time and she has to guide r on how to use it properly (so like powerbottom!wednesday and softtop!reader)

MASTERLIST. | WC: 2.9k

(all characters are 18+)

The morning had been… oddly peaceful. A rare treat. No rushing through uniforms, no last-minute essays you’d forgotten to do. You had the first half of the day off—well, you were skipping—you’d spent it in Jericho, finally getting that haircut you’d been debating for weeks. The salon was warm and smelled like lavender and hairspray, the stylist chatty in a way that didn’t grate on you for once. When it was done, you left with a subtle confidence curling in your chest, tugging your collar straight as you walked back to Nevermore.

Now, just after noon, you slipped into the quad and headed for the familiar stone bench under the tree where you always sat with Enid and Wednesday. You spotted them immediately—Enid waving enthusiastically, and Wednesday…

Well, Wednesday was staring.

You approached, dropping your bag with a sigh and brushing a crumb off the seat before settling beside them. Enid launched into a recap of whatever drama had happened in your absence, but you barely caught it—your eyes flicked to your girlfriend, whose dark gaze hadn’t left your face.

Not once.

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Wednesday blinked—slowly, as if waking from a trance—and immediately looked down at her tray, poking her fork into something green.

“Nothing,” she said flatly.

Enid leaned in, stage-whispering behind her hand. “She’s been staring at you since you walked up. Like hardcore eye contact. Like she’s trying to solve a crime on your face.”

“I am merely observing,” Wednesday snapped, her tone icy.

“You’ve barely blinked,” Enid grinned.

“She never does.” You tried not to smile as you turned to Wednesday. “Do I look different or something?”

“No,” she said much too quickly.

Enid snorted. “Lie.”

Wednesday’s jaw tensed. She stabbed her salad with increasing frustration.

“Is it the hair?” you asked, teasing, nudging her knee with yours under the table.

She didn’t answer. Which was an answer.

Wednesday, normally composed to a terrifying degree, looked like she was trying not to react. Her lips twitched the way they did when she was suppressing a smirk—or in this case, maybe something else entirely. Admiration. Affection. Possibly a bit of dazed, reluctant awe.

You leaned closer, lowering your voice. “You like it.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “I tolerate it.”

“Which is basically a love letter coming from her,” Enid chimed in.

Wednesday let out a quiet, dramatic exhale and finally looked at you—really looked. There was a flicker of something soft in her expression. Barely there. But you caught it.

And despite her best efforts, you saw the truth in her eyes.

She loved it. She just didn’t want you to know that it made her heart skip.

The final class of the day dragged on. You’d already mentally packed up your books and walked out ten times in your head, barely able to focus on the assignment in front of you. Outside the window, the sky had dulled to that soft blue-grey haze.

You were half-listening to your teacher’s closing remarks when a soft tap-tap sounded near your hand.

You looked down.

Thing was perched on your desk, tapping insistently beside a folded piece of dark paper sealed with wax.

A note.

From her.

You quickly slid it open, already recognising the neat, sharp handwriting.

Meet me at our usual place. Don’t dawdle. — W

That was it. No greeting. No sign-off. But it made your pulse stir all the same.

You slipped the note into your pocket, gave Thing a grateful nod, and started gathering your things, barely waiting for the bell to ring. As soon as it did, you were out the door, cutting through the trees that flanked the edge of campus, following the familiar worn path through the woods.

The abandoned hut stood quietly in the clearing—tucked away, crooked and weathered, barely noticeable unless you knew to look for it. Your sanctuary. Yours and hers. No curious roommates. No staring eyes. Just silence, shadows, and each other.

You pushed open the creaky door and stepped inside.

There she was.

Wednesday stood by the cracked window, arms folded, still in uniform. Her braid was slightly looser than usual, like she’d run her hand through it out of impatience. The light hit her in that odd, slanted way it always did in the hut—like the world tilted just for her.

“You came,” she said simply, though her voice was softer than usual.

You closed the door behind you. “You summoned me. I’m not suicidal enough to ignore that.”

A faint smirk ghosted across her lips before she looked away. “I needed a moment. With you.”

You crossed the room to stand in front of her, close enough that the space between you was nothing more than suggestion.

She reached out—quiet, certain—and took your hand.

“I don’t like being observed,” she murmured. “Enid is incapable of silence, and your roommate is a nocturnal cryptid.”

You laughed quietly. “So this is for privacy.”

Her eyes lifted to yours. “This is for peace.”

A pause.

“…And for kissing. If you’re amenable.”

Your heart stuttered at the casual way she said it—like asking you to pass the salt. But that was her way. Emotion, real and raw, always disguised in deadpan delivery.

You stepped forward, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“I’m very amenable.”

She didn’t reply.

She just kissed you.

Her hands slid up your back, fingers curling into your shirt as she pulled you closer. The kiss deepened, slow and steady, her lips moving deliberately against yours. There was no rush, no frenzy. Just a calm, consuming intensity that made your head swim.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes were dark and her breath came a little faster. She studied your face for a long moment before speaking.

"Your hair," she murmured, reaching up to run her fingers through the strands, "it suits you. It's...different."

"Different good or different bad?" you asked, teasing.

Her expression softened almost imperceptibly. "Different...interesting."

It was the closest thing to a compliment you were likely to get from her. You grinned.

"Well, I'm glad I could pique your interest," you said dryly.

Wednesday rolled her eyes but didn't pull her hand away from your hair. If anything, her fingers lingered, brushing along your scalp in a way that made your skin prickle.

Wednesday's fingers stilled in your hair as she gazed at you, her expression unreadable for a long moment. Then, slowly, she withdrew her hand and reached into her satchel, pulling out the strap-on she'd brought with her. She held it up.

"I brought this," she said, her voice low and even, "for you to use on me."

Your breath caught. In all the time you'd been together, you'd never topped her before. You knew she preferred to take charge, to maintain that control. But now, with your new haircut, she was handing over the reins.

"Wednesday, I..." you began, but she cut you off with a sharp look.

"I want you to," she said, simply. "Tonight. Here."

She stepped closer, until you could feel the heat of her body through your clothes. Her eyes searched yours, dark and intense.

"I like the way you look," she murmured, "and I want to see you...use it."

She pressed the strap-on into your hand, her fingers brushing against yours. It was an unspoken challenge. A test. A gift.

Your heart raced as you took it, curling your fingers around the leather. You knew this was a big step for her. A big gesture. One that meant more than words ever could.

You leaned in, your forehead resting against hers, your breath mingling with hers. When you spoke, your voice was low and sure.

"Okay," you whispered. "I will."

Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, a soft breath escaping her lips. Then she stepped back, turning to walk towards the rickety. makeshift bed in the corner of the hut.

"Wait for me to get ready," she said over her shoulder, already starting to unbutton her uniform shirt with deft fingers. "I want to make this...special."

You stared dumbly at the strap-on in your hand, your mind racing. While you'd fantasised about this moment, you'd never actually considered the logistics. Your fingers fumbled with the leather, trying to figure out how to thread it through the loops and buckles. The harness seemed to twist and turn in your hands, as uncooperative as a live snake.

Wednesday, noticing your struggle, let out a quiet, exasperated sigh. She stepped closer, her uniform shirt already discarded on the floor, and took the strap-on from your hands. With practiced efficiency, she began to adjust the straps, her fingers moving with a purposeful economy of motion.

"Allow me," she said, her tone dry. "It seems I'll need to assist you in this as well."

You flushed, feeling suddenly clumsy and inexperienced. "Sorry, I..."

She cut you off with a sharp look. "No apologies. Just...pay attention. Watch."

You fell silent, watching as she tightened the last strap and held the harness out to you. You stepped into it, letting the leather settle against your skin. It felt strange. Intimate. A little scary.

Wednesday's hands rested on your hips as she adjusted the fit, her touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. When she was satisfied, she stepped back and looked you over, her gaze slow and appraising.

"Good," she said, finally. "Now...undress."

The command hung in the air between you, heavy with implication. Your heart started to race as you reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and off in one swift motion. The cool air hit your skin, making you shiver.

Wednesday watched, her expression unreadable, as you unzipped your skirt and let it fall to the floor. You stood before her, in nothing but your underwear and the strap-on, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

She stepped closer, reaching out to run a finger along the length of the strap-on, tracing the shape of it through the fabric. Her touch was light. Curious. Almost reverent.

"I want you," she said, softly, "to take me. Hard."

And with that, she turned and lay back on the makeshift bed, waiting. Watching. Ready.

You frowned, confusion and uncertainty flashing across your face as you tried to process her words. She could see the questions in your eyes, the hesitation in your stance. It was rare to catch Wednesday off guard, but here you were, managing to do just that.

"Wednesday, I..." you started, swallowing hard, "I'm not sure what you mean by 'hard'. I want to make you feel good, but I don't want to hurt you."

A flicker of something soft, almost tender, crossed Wednesday's face. She sat up slowly, reaching out to take your hand in hers. Her fingers were cool and steady, a calming presence against your racing pulse.

"Hard," she explained, her voice low and patient, "means taking control. Being assertive. Letting me feel every inch of you. Not holding back because you're worried about me."

She brought your hand up to her lips, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your knuckles. Her eyes never left yours.

"Trust me," she murmured, "I can take it. I want to feel you. All of you. Don't hold back."

A thrill ran through you at her words, a mix of anticipation and trepidation. You knew this was a big moment for her. A chance for her to let go, to surrender control in a way she rarely did.

You took a deep breath, nodding slowly. "Okay," you said, your voice steadier than you felt. "I'll try."

A ghost of a smile touched the corners of her mouth. "Good," she said, softly. "Now...come here."

You moved to hover over her, your heart pounding as you hooked your fingers into the waistband of her panties. With a swift tug, you pulled them down her long, coltish legs, baring her to your hungry gaze. She lifted her hips to help you.

Wednesday watched you through half-lidded eyes, her chest rising and falling with each steady breath. She could see the way your hands trembled slightly as you positioned yourself between her thighs, the strap-on jutting out, hard and ready. The sight of it, there, poised at her entrance, made her stomach flip with anticipation.

"Go slowly at first," she murmured, her voice low and calm despite the heat building in her core. "But don't be gentle."

You nodded, swallowing hard. You took hold of the strap-on, lining it up with her slick, warm entrance. You could feel the heat radiating off her skin, could see the way her body softened, welcoming you. With a deep breath, you pushed forward, feeling the head of the strap-on catch and then slip inside her.

A soft gasp escaped her lips at the intrusion, her back arching slightly off the bed. Her hands came up to grip your hips, nails digging into your skin as she urged you on. You pushed deeper, inch by careful inch, until you felt the strap-on fully sheathed inside her. She was tight. Tighter than you'd expected. But she took it all, her body adjusting, accommodating you.

Wednesday guided your hips with a firm grip, her fingers digging into your skin as she directed your movements. "Start slow," she instructed, her voice a low rasp in the quiet room, "but don't be afraid to go deep."

You began to move, pulling back until just the tip remained inside her, before thrusting forward again, burying the strap-on to the hilt. You set a steady rhythm, your hips rolling against hers. The room filled with the sound of your ragged breathing, and her soft, breathy sighs.

"That's it," she encouraged, her grip on your hips tightening as she guided your movements. "Harder. Faster."

You complied, your strokes growing more forceful, more purposeful. The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful thrust. Wednesday's breath came faster now, her chest heaving as she lost herself in the rhythm you'd set.

"Yes," she gasped, arching up to meet your thrusts. "Don't stop. Just like that."

Her words spurred you on, your own desire building with each passing moment. You could feel the heat of your own arousal, the ache of your own need. But you focused on her, on the sounds she made, the way her body moved beneath yours.

Wednesday tangled her fingers in your newly cut hair, gripping the shorter strands as she guided your movements with increasing urgency. Her legs wrapped around your thighs, ankles locking at the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer with each roll of your hips. She used the leverage to meet your thrusts, her body rising to greet yours in a dance of give and take.

She tangled her fingers deeper, using the grip to guide your face down to hers. Her eyes, dark and hazy with desire, met yours. Her next words were a low, needy plea.

"Kiss me," she breathed against your lips. "Kiss me while you...while you fuck me. I want to taste you while you take me."

The crude words falling from her usually prim mouth sent a bolt of lust straight to your core. Without hesitation, you crashed your lips against hers, swallowing her moans and whimpers. Your tongue delved into the warm cavern of her mouth, stroking along hers.

You could feel her body tensing, her movements growing more erratic as she chased her pleasure. The grip in your hair tightened, nails scraping against your scalp as she teetered on the brink. You doubled your efforts, determined to push her over the edge, to feel her climax beneath you.

Wednesday's body began to tremble, her hips bucking wildly against yours as the coil of tension in her core wound tighter and tighter. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, her chest heaving as she teetered on the cusp of something monumental.

"Yes," she hissed through clenched teeth, her fingers twisting almost painfully in your hair, "yes, yes, yes...don't stop. Please don't stop."

You could feel the heat building between your bodies, the slick slide of her arousal coating the strap-on as it plunged in and out of her.

Suddenly, with a sharp cry, she came undone. Her body convulsed beneath you, back arching off the bed as a powerful orgasm ripped through her. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, making her shake and shudder as she rode out the intense sensation.

Through it all, you held her close, your body never stilling as you worked her through her climax. You could feel the way her walls fluttered and clenched around the strap-on, trying to pull you deeper, to keep you inside.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she went limp, her body melting into the mattress as the aftershocks subsided. She was panting, her skin flushed and dewy, her eyes glazed and unfocused.

As Wednesday came down from her high, she looked up at you with a hazy, satiated gaze. Her fingers, still tangled in your hair, gentled their grip, stroking the strands almost absently.

"Don't," she murmured, her voice hoarse from her cries of pleasure, "ever change this haircut. It's...perfect."

[siciliana123]

JENNA ORTEGA at the Christian Dior show during Paris Fashion Week, January 27 (2025)

[siciliana123]

How about one where you’re filming an intimate scene with Jenna (like in Finestkind) and she gives you a simulated handjob but instead of faking it she actually gives you one. Male reader gets her back by actually giving her head under the covers. Both try to keep if together. Scene ends with Jenna sending reader nudes and inviting him to her trailer, where he walks in on her masturbating and they fuck. Reader cums inside her. Thanks :)

A/N: Enjoy I really liked writing this one

Title: Behind the Scenes

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Male Reader

Summary: Filming intimate scenes requires trust and professionalism, but when Jenna decides to take things further, the line between acting and reality blurs. What starts as a “simulated” handjob turns into something much more, leading to an intense night neither of you will forget.

The lights were dimmed, the set designed to look like a messy motel room. Crew members buzzed around, making final adjustments, but you and Jenna sat on the bed, waiting for the director’s cue.

This was supposed to be an intimate scene, a moment of raw passion between two desperate lovers. The script called for deep kisses, wandering hands, and a simulated handjob beneath the sheets to add realism to the moment.

“Alright, guys,” the director called out. “Let’s make this one feel real. Passionate but natural.”

Jenna smirked at you, something mischievous in her dark eyes. “You ready?”

You swallowed, nodding. “Yeah. You?”

She hummed, shifting closer. “Always.”

“Alright, and… action!”

You leaned in, capturing Jenna’s lips in a deep, slow kiss. She melted against you instantly, her hands sliding up your chest, nails lightly scratching your skin.

You felt yourself getting lost in it, the way her tongue teased yours, the soft little moan she let out as you pulled her closer.

Then came the moment.

Jenna’s hand slipped under the covers, fingers brushing against your stomach before sliding down lower—right where you needed her.

You expected her to fake it, to simply move her wrist in a way that suggested motion.

But instead, she wrapped her fingers around your length.

Your entire body tensed, a sharp inhale the only sign of your surprise.

She didn’t stop.

Her strokes were slow, teasing, her palm warm and soft as she worked you beneath the sheets.

You bit your lip, struggling to keep a straight face as the camera rolled.

“You’re shaking,” Jenna whispered against your lips, amusement lacing her voice.

“Y-Yeah,” you breathed, voice tight. “You’re really doing this.”

She smirked. “You like it?”

You let out a shaky exhale, barely nodding.

“Good,” she murmured, squeezing slightly.

You knew you had to get her back.

Your hand slid down her body, slipping beneath her shirt. The fabric was bunched up just enough to give you access, and when you reached the waistband of her panties, you hesitated—just long enough to make her squirm.

Her breath hitched, eyes flickering with something desperate.

So you went lower.

Your fingers slid between her thighs, parting her slick folds, and Jenna let out a barely-contained whimper.

“Fuck,” she whispered, her strokes faltering for just a second.

You smirked, rubbing slow circles against her clit, keeping your pace agonizingly steady.

Her grip on you tightened as she tried to hold it together, tried to keep her moans soft enough so no one would notice.

But you felt it—the way her hips started moving, the way her breathing turned uneven.

She was close.

And then—

“Cut!”

The director’s voice snapped both of you back to reality.

Jenna immediately pulled her hand away, sitting up and adjusting her shirt like nothing had happened. You did the same, breathing heavily, trying to will your body to calm down before anyone noticed how hard you still were.

“Great work, guys,” the director said. “Let’s take five.”

Jenna shot you a smirk before sliding off the bed, her fingers brushing against your thigh one last time.

“See you later,” she whispered before walking away.

You were still trying to process what had happened when your phone buzzed.

Jenna: Hope you liked my performance.

You smirked, typing back quickly.

You: Think I need a second take.

Almost immediately, another message came through.

It wasn’t a text.

It was a picture.

Jenna, topless, her fingers teasing the waistband of her panties, a teasing smirk on her lips.

Your cock twitched instantly.

Then, another message.

Jenna: Come to my trailer. Door’s unlocked.

Your stomach tightened.

You were already on your feet.

Jenna’s Trailer

When you stepped inside, the lights were dimmed, the air thick with something heated.

And there she was.

Sprawled out on the small couch, completely bare, her legs spread, fingers working between her thighs.

She looked up at you through half-lidded eyes, biting her lip.

“Took you long enough.”

You swallowed hard, shutting the door behind you. “Couldn’t exactly run here with a hard-on.”

She chuckled breathlessly, her fingers slowing but not stopping. “You gonna keep watching or…?”

You didn’t let her finish.

Crossing the space between you, you knelt between her legs, grabbing her thighs and spreading them wider.

Jenna gasped as your tongue flicked against her clit, her head falling back.

“Fuck—”

You didn’t start slow. You ate her like you had something to prove, like you needed to hear her moan your name, needed to feel her thighs shake around your head.

Her fingers tangled in your hair, tugging you closer, her breathy whimpers making you impossibly harder.

“You’re—oh, fuck—you’re gonna make me come,” she gasped.

You hummed against her, the vibrations making her body jolt.

Her thighs squeezed around your head as she came hard, a sharp cry slipping from her lips as she trembled beneath you.

You didn’t give her time to recover.

You stood quickly, kicking off your clothes, your cock aching, desperate for her.

Jenna barely had time to catch her breath before you were pressing her into the couch, lining yourself up and sinking inside her in one deep stroke.

“Holy shit,” she moaned, nails digging into your back.

You set a brutal pace, thrusting hard, fast, watching the way her body bounced beneath you, the way her face twisted in pleasure.

“Feel good, baby?” you murmured against her neck.

“Y-Yeah,” she gasped. “God, yes—”

You gripped her thighs, pushing her legs up higher, hitting deeper, making her sob your name.

“Gonna fill you up,” you groaned, feeling your release creeping up.

Jenna moaned, gripping you tighter. “Do it. Inside me.”

That was all it took.

With one final thrust, you buried yourself deep, groaning as you spilled inside her, filling her with everything you had.

Jenna moaned at the sensation, her body clenching around you.

For a moment, neither of you moved, just catching your breath, your bodies still tangled together.

Then, Jenna smirked up at you.

“Think we should practice more often.”

You chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

“Oh, we will.”

[siciliana123]

I have no words

[siciliana123]

childhood sweethearts

pairings: tara x reader (g!p)

word count: 7815

warnings: smut 18+, high tension, swearing, cunilingus, fingering, p in v, alcohol

summary: you and tara are childhood sweethearts, inseparable. so much so that you live with her and sam, but there’s more that friendship brewing under the surface

a/n: this was meant to be a tooth-rotting fluffy fic yet it ended up with smut, i just can’t help myself 😞 apologies in advance for any mistakes

MASTERLIST

Living with Tara and Sam has always felt like living in two different worlds. Tara’s your best friend—has been since forever. She’s the one who shares late-night movie marathons with you, and who can talk you into midnight snack raids like it’s nothing. You know everything about her, from the way she crinkles her nose when something’s funny, to the way she absentmindedly tugs her sleeves over her hands when she’s deep in thought. Tara’s the person who’s always there, the one who feels like home.

And then there’s Sam.

She’s… different. More guarded, quiet. After everything she’s been through, she has walls up, and though she’s been trying to let them down, it’s a slow process. You respect that. Living with her is a different rhythm, and at times it feels like you’re navigating around invisible lines, trying not to step on any of the shadows she carries.

But it’s a balance you’re used to now. Your days are filled with Tara’s laugh and Sam’s quiet presence. You wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Tonight, the three of you are scattered across the living room, a comfort zone you’ve created together, cozy and messy in the best way. You and Tara are sprawled on the couch, a bowl of popcorn between you, eyes glued to a rerun of some B-grade horror movie that’s more funny than scary. Sam’s sitting in the armchair nearby, flipping through a magazine, occasionally glancing up at the screen with an amused shake of her head.

“Look at that,” Tara laughs, pointing to the screen. “They’re literally running toward the killer. Who does that?”

You chuckle, nudging her. “Maybe they’re just really dedicated to the plot. Can’t let the killer down, right?”

She rolls her eyes, snatching the popcorn bowl and tossing a handful at you. You pretend to be outraged, grabbing a stray piece off the floor and flicking it back at her.

“Hey, no food fights,” Sam calls, her tone light but with that big-sister authority that keeps both of you in line. She smirks, glancing at the mess of popcorn now littering the floor. “I’m not cleaning that up.”

Tara shoots her a mischievous grin. “Come on, Sam, live a little. It’s just popcorn.”

You can’t help but join in, giving Sam a mock-serious look. “Yeah, Sam, loosen up. Tara and I are just getting started.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile on her face. It’s moments like this, when her walls come down and she’s just Sam, just your family, that you feel the warmth of this makeshift home settle deep inside you.

As the movie goes on, Tara gradually ends up with her head on your shoulder, her eyes starting to droop. It’s not long before her breathing evens out, and you realize she’s fallen asleep, curled up against you in that way she always does when she’s completely comfortable.

You glance over at Sam, catching her watching the two of you. There’s a softness in her gaze, a hint of relief that her sister’s safe, that she’s surrounded by people who love her.

“She always falls asleep first,” Sam murmurs, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

You nod, careful not to disturb Tara. “Some things never change.”

There’s a quiet between you and Sam now, an unspoken understanding that’s settled in over the years. Tara’s not just your best friend—she’s family, and so is Sam, in her own way. You’d do anything to protect them, and they know it.

After a moment, Sam gets up, stretching as she glances toward the clock. “I’ll grab a blanket,” she says, her voice soft. “You two are just going to stay there, right?”

You smile, nodding as you settle in a little deeper. “Yeah. I’ll make sure she’s okay.”

Sam lingers for a moment, watching you both with that quiet intensity of hers. Then she gives a small nod, almost as if she’s giving her blessing. “Thanks for… sticking with us,” she says, her voice low, and you know she’s not just talking about tonight.

“Anytime,” you say, meaning it.

She leaves the room, and you feel Tara’s head nestle further into your shoulder, her small, content sigh the only sound in the otherwise quiet room. It’s one of those moments that feel perfectly right, like everything has fallen into place. The world outside might be complicated, full of ups and downs, but here, with Tara asleep beside you and Sam watching over both of you, it feels like you’ve found something rare—a family you’ve chosen, one that’s chosen you back.

As Sam returns with a soft blanket, you gently shift Tara to a more comfortable position. She stirs slightly, murmuring something incoherent, but doesn't wake. With practiced ease, you drape the blanket over her, tucking it around her shoulders.

Sam watches, a small smile playing on her lips. "She's lucky," she says quietly, meeting your gaze. "To have you."

There's a weight to her words, a depth of meaning that you don't quite know how to untangle. Instead, you simply nod, feeling an unexpected lump form in your throat.

"We're lucky," you manage, your voice coming out rougher than you intended. "Both of us."

Sam's smile widens, and for a moment, her walls seem to drop, revealing the warmth that's always lurked beneath. "Yeah," she agrees softly.

You look back to Tara, her face peaceful in sleep, and feel a surge of protectiveness wash over you. No matter what comes, you'll always be there for her, just as she's always been there for you.

As if sensing your thoughts, Tara shifts again, her hand reaching out to find yours. Her fingers twine with yours, and she sighs contentedly, burrowing closer.

"She's got a good grip," Sam observes, a note of humor in her voice. "You might be stuck there for a while."

You laugh softly, squeezing Tara's hand. "I don't mind," you say, and it's true. There's nowhere else you'd rather be.

Sam nods, her expression softening. "I know," she says, and there's a certainty in her voice that makes you feel warm all over. "I know."

The movie plays on, the credits rolling, but neither of you pay attention. Instead, you sit there, Tara sleeping between you, and let the moment stretch out, savoring the peace and the quiet and the knowledge that, no matter what happens, you'll always have each other.

ime passes in a blur of contentment, the minutes ticking by as Tara sleeps, safe and warm between you and Sam. The movie long since ended, the room is bathed in the soft glow of the muted TV, the only sound Tara's gentle breathing.

It's hard to say how long you sit there, lost in thought and memories, but eventually, a slight stirring from Tara brings you back to the present. She shifts, her hand tightening around yours as she blinks open sleepy eyes.

"Hey," she murmurs, her voice husky with sleep. She looks up at you, then at Sam, confusion slowly clearing from her features as she takes in her surroundings. "Did I fall asleep?"

You smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Yeah, you did. It was adorable."

Tara laughs, a soft, sleepy sound. She sits up, rubbing at her eyes, and you can't help but watch her, marveling at the way the light catches in her hair, at the curve of her smile.

"What time is it?" she asks, yawning widely.

Sam glances at the clock. "Almost midnight," she says. "You've been out for a few hours.

Tara stretches, arching her back in a way that makes your breath catch. "Wow," she says, grinning. "Guess I needed it."

She turns to you, her gaze soft. "Thanks for letting me crash on you," she says, her voice low and intimate.

Your heart skips a beat, and you feel a blush rising to your cheeks. "Anytime," you manage, your voice coming out rougher than you intended.

Tara's smile widens, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world has fallen away, like it's just the two of you, lost in each other's eyes.

Sam clears her throat, and you jolt back to reality, realizing how long you've been staring at each other. Tara laughs, breaking the spell, and you feel a rush of relief mixed with disappointment.

Tara stretches again, her shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of skin, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. She's always been beautiful, but there's something about the way she looks right now, sleep-rumpled and soft, that makes your heart race.

"I should probably get to bed," she says, standing up and smoothing down her clothes. "Early class tomorrow."

You nod, trying to hide the disappointment on your face. "Yeah, of course."

She smiles at you, a quick, playful thing. "Night, Y/N," she says, and before you can respond, she leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek.

It's over in an instant, but the warmth of her lips lingers long after she's gone, a ghost of sensation that makes your skin tingle.

Sam raises an eyebrow as Tara disappears down the hall. "Well," she says, her tone light but with an undercurrent of something you can't quite identify. "That was... unexpected."

You feel your face heat, and you're suddenly very interested in the popcorn bowl in your lap. "Yeah," you manage, clearing your throat.

Sam doesn't push, but you can feel her gaze on you, assessing, considering. You're not sure what she sees, but you know it's something that goes beyond mere friendship, something that you're not quite ready to put a name to.

"I'm going to bed too," Sam says finally, standing up and stretching. "You're welcome to stay and finish the movie if you want."

You nod, giving her a small smile. "Thanks," you say. "I think I'll just... clean up a bit and then head to my room."

Sam nods, giving you a quick, companionable hug before heading off to her own bedroom. You're left alone in the living room, the ghost of Tara's kiss still tingling on your skin.

As you gather up the empty popcorn bowl and soda cans, your mind wanders to Tara, to the way she looked at you, the way she smiled. You know there's something there, something more than just friendship.

With the living room tidied up, you head to your bedroom, your mind still reeling from Tara's surprise kiss. The soft glow of your bedside lamp illuminates the room as you start your nightly routine, washing your face and brushing your teeth.

As you slip into your pajamas, you can't help but think about Tara, about the way her lips felt against your skin, the way her eyes sparkled in the dim light. You know you shouldn't read too much into it, but you can't help the flutter in your chest, the warmth that spreads through your veins at the memory.

You climb into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin, and stare at the ceiling. Your mind races with thoughts of Tara, of the moments you've shared, the laughter and the tears and everything in between. You've always had a special bond, but lately, it seems to have shifted, grown into something deeper, more intense.

You close your eyes, trying to will yourself to sleep, but your mind won't quiet. You remember the way Tara looked at you, the heat in her gaze, the unspoken promise in her smile. You wonder what it would be like to kiss her for real, to feel her body pressed against yours, to lose yourself in the taste and the touch and the feel of her.

—

You jolt awake to the sound of raised voices, your heart pounding in your chest. For a moment, you're disoriented, unsure of where you are or what's happening. But then the familiar sounds of Tara and Sam arguing filter through the haze of sleep, and you relax slightly.

"I'm serious, Tara," Sam's voice comes, tight with frustration. "You can't just leave your dishes in the sink for days on end. It's gross."

"Oh, please," Tara scoffs, her voice muffled by the closed door. "It's not like there's anything growing in there. And besides, it's not like you're some perfect housekeeper."

You hear a huff of annoyance, followed by the sound of a cabinet opening and closing. "Just because I don't leave my dishes in the sink doesn't mean I'm perfect," Sam says, her voice calmer now. "I'm just asking you to be considerate."

There's a pause, and you can picture Tara rolling her eyes, her arms crossed stubbornly over her chest. "Fine," she says finally, the word dragged out of her reluctantly. "Y/N will clean them- Y/N!!” She shouts, calling out to you.

You groan, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you stumble out of bed. The argument between Tara and Sam is still going strong, and you can't help but smile slightly at their bickering. It's a familiar sound, one that's been a constant background noise to your life for as long as you can remember.

You make your way to the kitchen, yawning as you enter the fray. Tara's standing by the sink, her arms crossed and a mutinous expression on her face. Sam's at the counter, her arms full of dirty dishes.

"Morning, sunshine," Tara says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Ready to play maid?"

You roll your eyes, taking the dishes from Sam and setting them in the sink. "Why am I not surprised to find you two fighting over chores?" you ask, turning on the water and squirting some dish soap into the basin.

Tara huffs, picking up a sponge and starting to scrub at a particularly stubborn spot. "It's not fair," she grumbles. "Why do I have to do all the work?"

You just shake your head, starting to wash the dishes. "Because you left them in the sink for days," you say, your tone mild. "And because Sam asked you nicely to clean them, and you said you would."

Tara's scowl deepens, and she thrusts the sponge at you. "Here," she says, her voice tight. "You do it, then."

You take the sponge, a grin tugging at your lips. "Fine," you say, and before she can react, you flick a bit of soapy water at her.

Tara yelps, dropping the sponge and glaring at you. "Oh, you're on," she says, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She grabs another sponge and starts chasing you around the kitchen, flicking soapy water everywhere.

You laugh, dodging her attempts to splash you. "Tara, stop!" you gasp, trying to dodge another spray of water. "You're making a mess!"

Tara ignores your pleas, too caught up in the impromptu soapy water fight. She corners you by the fridge, a triumphant grin on her face as she raises her sponge threateningly.

"Gotcha now!" she crows, but before she can strike, you lunge forward, tackling her to the ground. You end up in a tangle of limbs, both of you gasping for breath and covered in suds.

For a moment, you just stare at each other, your faces inches apart, the rest of the world fading away. Tara's eyes are wide, her cheeks flushed, and you feel your heart skip a beat at the sight of her.

Then, as if a spell has been broken, you both burst into laughter, the tension dissipating like the bubbles around you. Tara rolls to the side, wiping sudsy water from her eyes.

"Okay, okay," she says, holding up her hands in surrender. "Truce."

You nod, accepting her offer, and help her to her feet. You're both covered in soap and water, your hair plastered to your heads, but you don't care. For a moment, you just stand there, breathing heavily, exchanging grins.

Then, as if remembering the presence of the other person in the room, you both turn to look at Sam. She's leaning against the counter, her arms crossed and a bemused expression on her face.

"Really, you two?" she says, shaking her head. "I leave you alone for five minutes, and you're making a mess of the kitchen?"

You and Tara exchange a guilty glance, then look back at Sam, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry," you say, trying to sound contrite but failing miserably.

Sam sighs, but there's a smile tugging at her lips. "Just... finish cleaning up, okay?" she says, pushing off the counter and heading out of the kitchen. "And try to keep the water on the dishes, not on each other."

You and Tara watch her go, then turn back to each other, laughing softly. "Come on," you say, picking up a sponge and tossing it to Tara.

Tara catches the sponge, grinning at you as she starts scrubbing at the dishes again. You join her, working in companionable silence for a few minutes. The suds slide over the plates and bowls, leaving them clean and sparkling.

"You know," Tara says, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye, "if you wanted to get me wet, there are easier ways than a soapy water fight."

You nearly drop the plate you're washing, your face flushing hot. "Tara!" you gasp, sputtering for words. "You can't just say things like that!"

You chuckle, shaking your head at her antics. “To be fair, that was a good one.” You say, holding your soapy fist out for a fist bump.

Tara laughs, bumping her fist against yours, sending suds flying. "Thanks," she says, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "I've been practicing."

You roll your eyes, but you can't keep the smile off your face. Tara's always been like this - quick-witted, playful, unafraid to push boundaries. It's one of the things you love about her, even if it sometimes drives you crazy.

Tara's eyes light up as she leans forward, her sandwich forgotten. "Oh my god, Y/N, there's this party coming up. It's like, a big fancy dress thing. Everyone who's anyone will be there."

She's practically bouncing in her seat, her excitement palpable. You can't help but smile at her enthusiasm, even as a small part of you wonders if this is really a good idea.

"That sounds... interesting," you say cautiously, trying to gauge her reaction. "Are you sure you want to go? I mean, after everything that's happened..."

Tara waves a hand dismissively, her smile never faltering. "That's exactly why we should go," she says, her voice earnest. "We can't let what happened define us, you know? We need to live our lives."

There's a glint in her eye as she turns to you, her smile turning sly. "Besides," she says, her voice lowering conspiratorially, "it'll be a chance for us to dress up, look hot, and show everyone that we're not going to be pushed around."

Tara's eyes sparkle with excitement as she leans in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Let's go shopping tomorrow," she suggests, her fingers brushing against your arm in a gesture that sends a shiver down your spine. "We can find the perfect outfits, something that'll really turn heads."

You hesitate, biting your lip as you consider her proposal. On one hand, the idea of spending the day with Tara, of picking out costumes and imagining how you'll look together... it's tempting. But on the other hand, you can't help but worry about the implications. Going to a party together, dressing up in matching outfits... it would send a message, one that you're not sure you're ready to confront.

"I don't know, Tara," you say finally, your voice hesitant. "Isn't that a bit... much? I mean, we've never really done anything like that before."

Tara's smile never wavers, and she shrugs, her eyes never leaving yours. "So? That's exactly why we should do it," she says, her voice low and persuasive. "It'll be fun, Y/N. Trust me."

You feel your resolve wavering under the force of her gaze, under the promise in her words. You know that Tara's not the type to back down easily, and the thought of disappointing her, of letting her down... it's not something you want to do.

"Okay," you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper. "Let's do it. Let's go shopping tomorrow."

Tara's grin widens, and she leans in and presses a quick, impulsive kiss to your cheek, her lips soft and warm against your skin. "Thank you," she breathes, her voice thick with emotion.

—

The next day, you find yourself being dragged through the mall by an enthusiastic Tara, her eyes bright with excitement as she pulls you from store to store. You can't help but smile at her energy, even as you feel a bit overwhelmed by the sheer variety of options available.

"Come on, Y/N," she says, tugging on your arm as she leads you into yet another shop. "This one looks promising."

You follow her inside, taking in the racks of elaborate costumes and accessories. There are superheroes and villains, fairy tale characters and historical figures, each more outlandish than the last. You can't help but feel a bit out of place, your masculine-presenting self sticking out amidst the sea of frills and glitter.

Tara, however, seems right at home. She's already rifling through the racks, her eyes sparkling with delight as she holds up various options for your inspection.

"What about this one?" she asks, holding up a rather revealing pirate costume. "We could be a swashbuckling duo, ready to take on the world."

You flush, shaking your head. "I don't think so," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "It's a bit too... revealing."

Tara pouts, but she doesn't argue. Instead, she moves on to the next rack, her brow furrowed in concentration. You can't help but admire the way she looks, the way her eyes light up with each new discovery.

After what feels like hours, Tara finally emerges from the racks, a triumphant grin on her face. "I found them," she says, her voice thick with excitement. "Come on, you've got to see."

You follow Tara to the back of the store, where she's standing with a grin on her face and two costumes in her hands. She holds them out to you, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"What do you think?" she asks, her voice low and playful. "Cowboys?"

You take the costumes from her, your heart skipping a beat as you realize what she's suggesting. The costumes are classic Western fare - faded denim jeans, checked shirts, and wide-brimmed hats. They're simple, but effective, and you can't help but imagine how you'll look together, dressed in matching outfits.

"I like it," you say finally, looking up at Tara. "It's perfect."

Tara's grin widens, and she leans in close, her body pressing against yours in a way that makes your breath catch. "Great," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Let's try them on."

She takes the costumes from you, her fingers brushing against yours in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. She turns and starts to walk towards the changing rooms, her hips swaying with each step.

You follow her, your heart racing in your chest. As you step into the changing room, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation, a thrill of excitement at the thought of what's to come.

You strip off your clothes, your hands trembling slightly as you pull on the jeans and the shirt. The fabric feels strange against your skin, foreign but not unpleasant. You run your hands over the rough material, marveling at the way it feels, at the way it makes you feel.

When you're dressed, you step out of the changing room, your heart in your throat. Tara's waiting for you, her own costume looking like it was made for her. She grins when she sees you, her eyes roaming over your body in a way that makes you feel exposed, vulnerable.

"You look good," she says, her voice husky. "Really good."

You flush, your cheeks heating under her gaze. "You too," you manage, your voice coming out rougher than you intended.

Tara's grin widens, her eyes sparkling with mischief and something else, something deeper, more intense. She steps closer to you, her body almost touching yours, her hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your forehead.

"We make a pretty good pair, don't we?" she murmurs, her voice low and intimate. "Like we were made for each other."

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. You know you should say something, should respond, but the words catch in your throat, lost in the haze of her proximity, the warmth of her touch.

Tara's hand trails down your cheek, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw, the curve of your lips. You can feel the heat of her skin, the softness of her touch, and you have to resist the urge to lean into it, to close the distance between you.

"Y/N," she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. "I..."

She trails off, her gaze locked with yours, her eyes searching, questioning. You can see the uncertainty in them, the fear, the hope, and it makes your heart ache.

You reach up, your hand covering hers, your thumb brushing over her knuckles. "Tara," you say, your voice steady, sure. "I..."

You clear your throat, a forced smile spreading across your face as you pull back from Tara's touch. "So, uh, these costumes are great," you say, your voice overly cheerful, almost manic. "I can't wait to wear them to the party."

Tara blinks, her brows furrowing slightly at your sudden change in demeanor. But she recovers quickly, a smile spreading across her own face as she steps back, her hand falling away from your cheek.

"Yeah," she says, her voice a bit hesitant. "They really are perfect."

You nod, your grin widening. "Absolutely," you say, clapping your hands together. "We're going to look amazing, like we stepped right out of a Western movie."

Tara laughs, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're such a dork," she says, but there's no bite to her words, only affection.

You shrug, playing up the goofy persona. "Hey, someone's gotta be the comedic relief," you say, winking at her. "Might as well be me."

Tara rolls her eyes, but she's grinning now, the tension from earlier dissipating like smoke in the wind. "Alright, cowgirl," she says, poking you in the chest. "Let's go pay for these bad boys and get out of here. I'm starving."

—

The night of the party arrives, and you find yourself standing in front of the mirror, adjusting your costume for what feels like the hundredth time. The jeans fit perfectly, hugging your curves in all the right places, and the shirt is soft and worn, like it's been with you for years. The hat sits at a jaunty angle on your head, completing the look.

You take a deep breath, your heart racing in your chest. You can hear the music thumping from downstairs, the sound of laughter and chatter floating up to your room. You know you should head down, should immerse yourself in the festivities, but you can't help but feel a twinge of nerves.

You turn to look at Tara, who's standing in the doorway of your room, her own costume looking like it was made for her. She grins when she sees you, her eyes roaming over your body in a way that makes your skin tingle.

"You look amazing," she says, her voice low and appreciative. "Like a real-life cowgirl."

You flush, ducking your head in a way that you hope looks cute and not embarrassed. "Thanks," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "You don't look so bad yourself."

Tara laughs, stepping into the room and closing the distance between you. "Shall we?" she asks, holding out her hand to you.

You hesitate for a moment, your gaze locked with hers, before you finally take her hand, your fingers intertwining with hers. "Let's do it," you say, your voice steady, sure.

Together, you descend the stairs, the music growing louder with each step. The party is in full swing when you enter the living room, the room packed with people in elaborate costumes, dancing and laughing and drinking.

Tara leads you into the fray, her hand still in yours, her body pressed close to yours as you navigate the crowd. You can feel the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of your shirt, the warmth of her breath on your neck, and it makes your head spin.

As the night wears on, the alcohol flows freely, and the party takes on a hazy, surreal quality. You find yourself pulled into the whirlwind of it all, laughing and dancing and drinking until your head spins and your feet ache.

Throughout it all, Tara is by your side, her hand in yours, her body pressed close to yours. The more you drink, the more you notice the way she looks at you, the heat in her gaze, the way her fingers linger on your skin.

At some point, you find yourself in the backyard, the cool night air a welcome respite from the stuffy heat of the house. Tara leans against a tree, her head tilted back, her eyes closed. You stand next to her, your shoulder brushing against hers, the contact sending a shiver down your spine.

"Y/N," Tara slurs, her voice low and thick. "I'm so glad you came tonight."

You smile, your own words slightly slurred. "Me too," you say, leaning against the tree next to her. "It's been a really fun night."

Tara opens her eyes, turning to look at you. Her gaze is intense, focused, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. "It has," she agrees, her voice barely above a whisper. "But it's not over yet."

She reaches out, her hand cupping your cheek, her thumb brushing over your lips. You feel your heart race, your skin tingle where she touches you.

"Tara," you breathe, your voice a mix of desire and trepidation. "What are you doing?"

Tara's smile is slow, seductive. "What does it look like?" she murmurs, her hand sliding down to your neck, your collarbone. "I'm kissing you, Y/N."

And then she does, her lips pressing against yours in a searing, passionate kiss that takes your breath away. You moan into her mouth, your hands coming up to grip her waist, pulling her closer.

The kiss seems to last for an eternity, the world fading away until there's nothing but the two of you, lost in each other.

When Tara finally pulls away, you're both panting, your faces flushed and your eyes glazed. She stares at you for a long moment, her gaze searching, before she leans in again, her lips brushing against yours in a series of soft, teasing kisses.

"God, you taste good," she murmurs, her voice low and husky. "I've wanted to do that for so long."

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "Tara," you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper. "Are you sure about this? I mean, we're so drunk, and..."

Tara silences you with a finger to your lips, her eyes locking with yours. "Shh," she says, her voice gentle but firm. "Don't overthink it, Y/N. Just feel."

And then she's kissing you again, her tongue sliding against yours, her hands tangling in your hair. You moan into her mouth, your body melting against hers, your reservations fading away like mist in the morning sun.

Tara's hands slide down your back, cupping your ass and pulling you even closer. You can feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of your jeans, the hardness of her body pressing against yours.

"Fuck," Tara gasps, breaking the kiss to trail her lips down your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. "I want you, Y/N. I want you so fucking bad."

You groan, your head falling back against the tree as Tara's mouth works its magic on your neck, your collarbone, your chest. Your hands slide under her shirt, your fingers skimming over the smooth skin of her stomach, the curve of her ribs.

You and Tara stumble out of the party, your arms wrapped around each other, your steps unsteady and your laughter echoing in the night air. You can barely keep your hands off each other, your bodies pressed close, your lips brushing against each other's skin at every opportunity.

As you make your way back to the apartment, you can't help but giggle at the absurdity of it all. Here you are, drunk and horny and in love, trying to make it through the front door without waking the sleeping beauty within.

"Quiet, quiet," Tara whispers, her voice loud enough to wake the dead. "We don't want to disturb Princess Samantha."

You snort, your hand clamping over your mouth to stifle your laughter. "Shh," you hiss, your eyes watering with mirth. "You're going to wake her up."

Tara just grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief and alcohol. "Let her sleep," she says, her voice conspiratorial. "More time for us."

You shake your head, biting your lip to keep from laughing out loud. Carefully, you unlock the door, your fingers fumbling with the key in your drunken state. Finally, you manage to get it open, and you and Tara tumble inside, your arms and legs tangled together.

You close the door as quietly as you can, your ears straining for any sound of movement from Sam's room. But all is silent, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Tara, however, is not so subtle. She grabs you around the waist, pulling you close and nuzzling your neck. "Now," she murmurs, her voice thick with desire, "where were we?"

You groan, your head falling back against the wall. "Tara," you whisper, your voice a mix of exasperation and arousal. "We can't. Not here. Sam's right there."

Tara's lips curl into a wicked grin. "So?" she breathes, her hand sliding down your back, your ass. "She's asleep. She won't know a thing.”

You hesitate for a moment, your arousal warring with your common sense. But in the end, the desire wins out, and you practically growl as you scoop Tara up in your arms, carrying her towards your bedroom.

"Y/N," Tara breathes, her arms looping around your neck, her lips trailing kisses along your jawline. "Fuck, you're so strong."

You feel a surge of pride at her words, your steps quickening as you navigate the hallway. You kick open the door to your room, your eyes never leaving Tara's face.

You lay her down on the bed gently, your body covering hers, your lips finding hers in a searing kiss. Tara moans into your mouth, her hands tangling in your hair, urging you closer.

You break the kiss, your breath coming in short pants as you trail your lips down her neck, your teeth grazing her skin. "Fuck, Tara," you murmur, your voice rough with desire. "I want you so bad."

You take your time, savoring every moment as you explore Tara's body with your hands and mouth. You trail kisses down her neck, your tongue darting out to taste her skin, to feel the flutter of her pulse beneath your lips.

Tara arches into your touch, her fingers tangling in your hair, urging you on. "Y/N," she breathes, her voice thick with desire. "Please."

You smile against her skin, your hands sliding under her shirt, skimming over the soft curves of her stomach, the dip of her waist. You can feel the heat of her skin, the way she trembles beneath your touch, and it makes your own body respond in kind.

Slowly, reverently, you peel off her shirt, exposing the creamy expanse of her breasts. You lower your head, your tongue circling one hardened nipple before you take it into your mouth, sucking gently, teasingly.

Tara gasps, her back arching off the bed, her hands fisting in the sheets. "Fuck," she moans, her voice breathy and strained. "That feels so good."

You hum in response, your mouth moving to her other breast, your hand sliding down the smooth plane of her stomach, dipping beneath the waistband of her jeans. Tara lifts her hips, helping you tug the denim down her legs, revealing the lacy black panties beneath.

You pause for a moment, your eyes roaming over the sight of her, spread out before you like a feast. "God," you murmur, your voice rough with awe. "You're so beautiful, Tara."

Tara flushes, a shy smile spreading across her face. "So are you," she whispers, her hand reaching out to cup your cheek. "So are you."

With that, you lower your head, your mouth finding the heat between her thighs, your tongue delving into her folds, tasting her essence. Tara cries out, her hips bucking against your face, her fingers tangling in your hair, holding you close.

You continue your ministrations, your tongue delving deeper, exploring every inch of her. Tara's moans fill the room, her body writhing beneath you, her hands clutching at the sheets.

"Y/N," she gasps, her voice ragged. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

You have no intention of stopping. You're lost in the taste of her, the feel of her, the sounds she's making. You redouble your efforts, your tongue flicking over her clit, your fingers sliding inside her, curling against that special spot that makes her see stars.

Tara's back arches off the bed, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as her orgasm crashes over her. You feel her come undone, her walls fluttering around your fingers, her essence flooding your mouth.

You don't stop, not until she's boneless and spent, her chest heaving with each ragged breath. Only then do you crawl up her body, your lips finding hers in a searing kiss.

"Fuck," Tara pants when you finally break apart. "That was incredible."

You grin, your eyes dark with desire. "We're just getting started," you murmur, your hand sliding down her body, dipping between her thighs once more.

Tara gasps, her hips bucking against your hand. "Again?" she asks, her voice breathy with anticipation. "Already?"

You just smile, your fingers teasing her entrance. "Oh, we're just getting started," you repeat, your voice low and promising. "I'm going to make you feel so good, Tara. Over and over again."

You make good on your promise, your fingers sliding inside Tara once more, curling against that special spot that makes her moan. You can feel her tightening around you, her body tensing as she gets closer and closer to the edge.

"Y/N," she gasps, her nails digging into your shoulders. "I'm so close, fuck, I'm so close."

You increase your pace, your thumb circling her clit, your fingers thrusting deeper, harder. Tara's back arches, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as her orgasm crashes over her once more.

You don't stop, not until she's trembling and spent, her body limp against the sheets. Only then do you pull away, your fingers slick with her essence.

Tara looks up at you, her eyes hazy with satisfaction, a lazy smile spreading across her face. "Holy shit," she breathes, her voice hoarse. "That was... wow."

You grin, leaning down to capture her lips in a soft, tender kiss. "I told you," you murmur against her mouth. "We're just getting started."

Tara hums, her arms coming up to wrap around your neck, pulling you closer. "Then what are we waiting for?" she asks, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let's keep going."

You take your time, exploring every inch of Tara's body with your hands and mouth. You map out the curves and valleys of her skin, committing every dip and swell to memory. You want to learn her, to know her, to worship her in every way possible.

Tara responds to your touch, her body arching into yours, her hands roaming over your back, your shoulders, your arms. She traces the lines of your muscles, marveling at the strength she feels beneath your skin.

"Fuck, Y/N," she moans, her voice thick with desire. "You feel so good."

You grin, your ego boosted by her praise. "So do you," you murmur, your lips trailing down her neck, your teeth grazing her collarbone. "You feel fucking incredible."

You continue your exploration, your mouth finding her breasts, your tongue circling her nipples. Tara gasps, her back arching off the bed, her fingers tangling in your hair.

"Please," she begs, her voice ragged with need. "Please, Y/N, I need you inside me."

You pause, looking up at her with hooded eyes. "Are you sure?" you ask, your voice low and rough. "Because once I start, I don't think I'll be able to stop."

Tara's grin is wicked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Then don't stop," she breathes, her legs falling open in invitation. "Don't you dare stop."

With that, you position yourself between her thighs, the head of your cock nudging against her entrance. Tara's breath hitches, her hands gripping your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin.

You pause, giving her a chance to change her mind, to back out if she wants to. But she just looks up at you, her eyes filled with trust and desire, and you know there's no going back.

So you push forward, slowly, carefully, feeling her tight heat envelop you inch by delicious inch. Tara's moan is long and low, her head falling back against the pillows as you fill her completely.

Tara's moan is long and low, her head falling back against the pillows as you fill her completely. Her nails dig into your shoulders, her legs wrapping around your waist, urging you deeper.

"Fuck, Y/N," she gasps, her voice ragged with pleasure. "You feel so good inside me."

You pause for a moment, giving her a chance to adjust, to get used to the feeling of you stretching her, filling her. Then, slowly, carefully, you start to move, your hips rocking against hers in a steady, sensual rhythm.

Tara meets your movements, her hips lifting to meet yours, her body undulating beneath you. The sound of skin on skin fills the room, mixed with your combined moans and gasps, the creak of the bed beneath you.

You lean down, capturing Tara's lips in a searing kiss, your tongue delving into her mouth, tasting her, claiming her. She kisses you back fiercely, her tongue tangling with yours, her fingers sliding into your hair, holding you close.

The world falls away, narrowing down to this moment, this feeling, this connection between the two of you. You lose yourself in Tara, in the heat of her body, the taste of her skin, the sound of her moans.

You pick up the pace, your hips snapping against hers, your cock driving deeper, harder, faster. Tara's breath comes in short, sharp gasps, her nails raking down your back, her fingers digging into your ass, urging you on.

"Y/N," she pants, her voice high and tight. "Fuck, Y/N, harder, please, fuck me harder."

You oblige, your hips slamming against hers, the bed shaking beneath you, the headboard banging against the wall. Tara's moans grow louder, higher, her body tensing, her walls fluttering around you.

You don't forget, of course. As you thrust into Tara, your hand slides between your bodies, your fingers finding her clit. You rub in slow, steady circles, matching the rhythm of your hips, the pressure building with each pass.

Tara cries out, her back arching off the bed, her hips bucking against your hand, your cock. "Fuck, yes," she gasps, her voice ragged. "Right there, don't stop, please don't stop."

You don't stop, not until Tara is a writhing, moaning mess beneath you, her body trembling, her walls clenching around you. You can feel her getting closer and closer, her movements becoming more frantic, her moans more desperate.

"Y/N," she pants, her eyes locked with yours, pleading, desperate. "I'm so close, fuck, I'm so close."

You increase your pace, your fingers moving faster, harder, your cock driving deeper, deeper. Tara's moans grow louder, higher, her body tensing, her nails digging into your back.

"Come for me, Tara," you growl, your voice rough with desire. "Come on my cock, let me feel you."

With a final, keening cry, Tara comes undone, her body convulsing, her walls clamping down around you like a vice. You follow her over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you, your hips jerking, your cock pulsing inside her.

You collapse on top of her, your chest heaving, your heart pounding in your ears. Tara's arms come up to wrap around you, holding you close, her fingers tracing patterns on your back.

"Wow," she breathes, her voice soft, awed. "That was... incredible."

You wake up slowly, your body feeling deliciously sore and satisfied. It takes you a moment to realize that you're not alone in the bed, that you're wrapped around Tara, your limbs entangled with hers.

Memories of the night before flood back - the party, the drinking, the heated make out session in the backyard, the desperate, passionate lovemaking when you finally made it back to your apartment. A blush rises to your cheeks at the thought, your body tingling with residual pleasure.

You shift slightly, your leg brushing against Tara's, and she stirs, her eyes fluttering open. She smiles when she sees you, her hand coming up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing over your lips.

"Morning," she murmurs, her voice husky from sleep. "Last night was... wow."

You grin, leaning into her touch. "It really was," you agree, your own voice rough with sleep and satisfaction. "Definitely a night to remember."

Just then, a loud clearing of the throat breaks the moment. You both turn your heads to see Sam standing in the doorway, her arms crossed, a smirk on her face.

"Well, well, well," she drawls, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Looks like you two had quite the night."

You flush, sitting up quickly and tugging the covers up to your chin. Tara just yawns, stretching languidly, seemingly unconcerned by her sister's presence.

"Shut up, Sam," Tara grumbles, her voice still thick with sleep. "We're not doing anything wrong."

Sam just raises an eyebrow, her grin widening. "Could've fooled me," she says, her eyes flicking down to your rumpled clothes, your tousled hair. "You two look thoroughly fucked, if you ask me."

You feel your blush deepen, your mouth opening and closing as you try to find a response. But Sam just waves you off, her smirk never leaving her face.

"Save it," she says, shaking her head. "I don't want to hear the details. Just... try to keep it down next time… I always knew this day would come. Mindy owes me 20 bucks.”

[siciliana123]

secret door

pairings: jenna x fem!reader

word count: 4936

warnings: smut 18+, fingering, kissing- that’s about it

summary: you’re not famous so attending your first event (mexico beetlejuice, beetlejuice premiere) with jenna was nerve racking

a/n: so, so bad at summaries. this is for the anon who wanted more jenna content and the other anon who wanted smuttt— twas not originally gonna be smutty but — everything i touch turns to smut — #poetic

MASTERLIST

The hotel suite buzzes with activity. Jenna sits at the vanity, her makeup artist carefully blending a soft shimmer onto her eyelids. She’s wearing a silk robe, her deep teal leather dress hanging nearby, waiting to transform her into the star of the night.

Her stylist, Enrique, circles the room, picking at details, double-checking accessories, and adjusting the angle of her shoes laid out by the full-length mirror. Meanwhile, you’re standing by the suite’s other mirror as a tailor pins the last adjustments to your suit.

You glance at Jenna through the reflection, watching as she talks with her team, that familiar mix of excitement and focus lighting up her expression. She catches your gaze and smiles softly, the kind of smile that feels like it’s meant just for you, even with all these people around.

“How’s the suit looking?” Jenna asks, her voice cutting through the gentle hum of conversation.

You turn to face her, straightening your jacket. The tailor steps back, allowing you to move freely. “It’s coming together,” you reply, running a hand down the lapel. The suit is sharp—deep teal with subtle leather accents along the cuffs and collar, designed to complement Jenna’s dress without competing with it.

Enrique claps his hands dramatically. “It’s more than coming together,” he exclaims. “You look fantastic.”

Jenna tilts her head, her eyes scanning you from head to toe. “He’s right,” she says, her lips curving into a grin. “You look incredible.”

You feel a blush creeping up your neck and try to brush it off with a playful smirk. “Not bad for a first-timer, huh?”

“Not bad at all,” Jenna replies, her voice warm.

Her makeup artist steps back, admiring her work. “Done! You’re all set, Jenna.”

Jenna stands, tying the belt of her robe before walking over to you. Up close, she’s even more breathtaking—her hair styled to perfection, her makeup subtle yet striking. She places a hand on your chest, right over your heart, and looks up at you.

“Are you ready for this?” she asks softly.

You exhale, the weight of the evening settling over you. You’re not famous, not used to the flashing cameras and crowded red carpets. But then Jenna’s fingers curl slightly into the fabric of your suit, grounding you.

“As long as I’m with you,” you say, meeting her gaze, “I’m ready for anything.”

Her smile widens, and she leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “Good. Because you’re going to blow them away.”

Enrique claps his hands again, pulling both of you back to the moment. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s get you dressed, Jenna! The car’s going to be here soon.”

Jenna winks at you before turning to Enrique. “Alright, alright, I’m coming!”

As she steps into her dress, you take a moment to compose yourself. Tonight isn’t just about her—it’s about the two of you, stepping into the spotlight together for the first time. And as nervous as you are, you can’t help but feel a swell of pride knowing you’ll be by her side.

A few minutes later, when Jenna emerges in her dress, the room falls quiet for a beat. She looks stunning, the deep teal leather hugging her figure perfectly, the details nodding subtly to the Beetlejuice theme.

“Wow,” you murmur, unable to stop the word from slipping out.

Jenna grins, brushing her fingers against your arm as she passes. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she teases, though there’s a sparkle in her eyes that tells you she means it.

As the two of you head out, hand in hand, you can’t help but think that no matter how many cameras flash or how loud the crowd gets, the only thing that really matters is the way she looks at you—like you’re the only person in the world.

The car ride to the premiere is a blur of laughter and nervous energy. Jenna keeps brushing her fingers against your thigh, a small gesture that sends shivers up your spine. She tells you stories from the set of Beetlejuice, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she recounts the behind-the-scenes antics.

When the car pulls up to the red carpet, you feel your heart rate kick up a notch. This is it—the big moment. Jenna squeezes your hand, her skin warm against yours.

“Remember, breathe,” she says, her voice low and soothing. “And if it gets too overwhelming, just find me in the crowd. I’ll be looking for you.”

You nod, drawing strength from her calm presence. As the car door opens, the flashes of cameras and the shouts of fans hit you like a wave. Jenna steps out first, her dress swishing around her legs as she takes in the scene. She turns back to you, her hand extended.

“Come on,” she says, her smile wide and infectious. “Let’s do this.”

You take her hand, letting her pull you out of the car. The world seems to spin for a moment, a kaleidoscope of colors and noise. Jenna keeps hold of your hand as she leads you towards the mass of reporters and photographers.

She stops every few feet, posing for photos and answering questions with ease. You hover slightly behind her, trying not to be trampled by the flood of people. Every so often, Jenna glances back at you, her eyes checking in, making sure you’re still there.

When it’s your turn to pose together, she wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. The cameras go wild, the flashes nearly blinding. Jenna leans in, her lips brushing your ear as she whispers, “You’re doing great.”

Her words settle something inside you, and you stand a little taller, a little prouder. As the night goes on, you find yourself relaxing into the role of being by her side. When Jenna introduces you to her co-stars and friends, she does so with a casual intimacy that makes you feel like you belong.

After what feels like hours, the red carpet portion of the evening finally winds down. Jenna leads you into the theater, her hand still clasped tightly in yours. The cool darkness of the space is a welcome reprieve from the hot glare of the lights outside.

As you take your seats, Jenna leans over, her breath warm against your ear. “Thanks for being here tonight,” she says softly. “It means a lot to me.”

You turn to face her, taking in the way the dim light plays across her features. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

The movie starts, and for the next two hours, you find yourself lost in the world of Beetlejuice. Jenna’s performance is captivating, her ability to blend comedy and depth leaving you awestruck. Every so often, you catch her glancing at you from the corner of her eye, a small smile playing on her lips.

When the credits roll, the audience erupts into applause. Jenna stands, pulling you up with her. She leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before pulling back to take in the standing ovation.

As the crowd begins to disperse, Jenna tugs at your hand. “Come on,” she says, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Let’s get out of here.”

Jenna leads you through the quiet door, the sudden silence a stark contrast to the bustling energy of the theater. You find yourself in a small courtyard, the walls draped with lush greenery and the air heavy with the scent of jasmine.

She turns to face you, her eyes searching yours. “I needed a moment away from all that,” she says, gesturing vaguely back towards the main event. “Just the two of us.”

You nod, understanding all too well the pressure of being constantly in the public eye. “I get it,” you reply, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. “It’s nice to breathe.”

Jenna leans into your touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When she opens them again, there’s a new intensity in her gaze. “Yeah,” she says softly. “It’s nice to breathe with you.”

She takes a step closer, her body almost pressing against yours. Your heart races at the proximity, at the way her eyes drop to your lips for the briefest of moments.

Jenna's eyes meet yours, a silent question hanging in the air between you. You answer by leaning in, closing the distance until your lips are a mere breath apart. She exhales, her breath mingling with your own, and then you're kissing, soft and slow at first, then deeper, more urgent.

Her hands come up to cup your face, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulls you closer. You respond by wrapping your arms around her waist, molding her body against yours. The kiss goes on for a long moment, the rest of the world fading away until it's just the two of you, lost in each other.

Finally, Jenna pulls back, her chest heaving. She looks up at you, her eyes dark and half-lidded. "Wow," she breathes, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "That was..."

"Incredible," you finish for her, your voice rough. "You're incredible."

She ducks her head, a blush staining her cheeks. "I'm not the only one," she murmurs, her fingers toying with the lapel of your suit. "You look pretty amazing yourself."

You grin, pulling her back into your arms. "I guess we make a pretty good team, huh?"

"The best," she agrees, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw. "Now, what do you say we explore this beautiful city? I hear the food here is to die for."

You grin at Jenna's suggestion, your eyes roaming over her figure appreciatively. "Food sounds amazing," you agree, "but first, I think we need to change out of these fancy clothes. I'm not sure I can eat a taco in a leather suit without looking ridiculous."

Jenna laughs, the sound bright and melodic in the quiet courtyard. "Good point," she says, smoothing down the front of her dress. "Though I have to say, you wear it well."

You wink at her, enjoying the way her cheeks flush at the compliment. "Thanks, but I think I'd rather be in something more comfortable. Plus, I don't want to risk getting any salsa on this thing. Enrique would have a heart attack."

"True," Jenna agrees, glancing down at her own outfit. "I'm not sure I can handle the stares if we waltz into a taqueria looking like this."

You take her hand, lacing your fingers with hers. "Then let's find somewhere to change. I'm sure there's a shop nearby where we can pick up something a little more casual."

"Ooh, shopping!" Jenna exclaims, her eyes lighting up. "Now you're speaking my language. Lead the way, miss fashionista."

You laugh, pulling her along as you exit the courtyard. The cool night air feels good on your skin, and you can't help but feel a sense of excitement at the prospect of exploring the city with Jenna by your side.

As you walk, you keep up a steady stream of chatter, pointing out interesting shops and restaurants as you pass. Jenna listens attentively, asking questions and sharing her own thoughts. It's easy to forget, in moments like these, that she's a famous actress. Right now, she's just Jenna—your Jenna—and that's all that matters.

As you and Jenna walk down the street, you suddenly freeze, your eyes widening in horror. "Did you see that?" you gasp, your hand tightening around Jenna's.

She follows your gaze, her brow furrowing in confusion. "See what?"

You point a shaky finger at a dark shape scurrying along the sidewalk. "That! That rat!"

Jenna squints, then bursts out laughing. "Y/N, that's not a rat. It's just a sock."

You blink, realizing she's right. The "rat" is indeed just a stray piece of fabric, fluttering in the breeze. You feel your face flush with embarrassment.

"Oh," you say lamely, trying to regain your composure. "Right. A sock. Not a rat."

Jenna grins, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're cute when you're scared," she teases, bumping her shoulder against yours.

You roll your eyes, but can't help the small smile tugging at your lips. "Thanks," you reply dryly. "I think."

As you continue walking, you can't help but marvel at the way Jenna makes you feel—safe, cherished, and loved, even when you're being silly. With her by your side, you feel like you can face anything, even the threat of a sock-turned-rat.

After your close call with the sock-rat, you and Jenna make your way to a nearby clothing store. The shop is small but cozy, with racks of colorful clothes and friendly staff. You head to the changing rooms, each grabbing a few items to try on.

Inside the dressing room, you peel off the leather suit, feeling a sense of relief as the tight material slides off your skin. You opt for a pair of simple black sweatpants and a gray hoodie, the soft fabric a welcome change from the structured lines of your suit.

As you emerge from the changing room, you spot Jenna across the store, her arms laden with clothes. She's wearing a pair of ripped jeans and an oversized pink hoodie, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. She looks adorable, and you can't help but grin at the sight of her.

You make your way over to her, your own arms full of potential purchases. "Find anything good?" you ask, setting your clothes down on a nearby bench.

Jenna nods, holding up a pair of red sneakers. "These are perfect," she says, her eyes bright with excitement. "They'll go great with the jeans."

You help her try on a few more outfits, offering your opinion on each one. She does the same for you, her eyes roaming appreciatively over your body as you model hoodies and sweatshirts.

Finally, with bags full of new clothes, you pay for your purchases and step out into the night. The air feels fresh and cool, and you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the rest of the evening.

As you walk hand in hand, you glance over at Jenna, a smile playing on your lips. "Ready to find some food?" you ask, your stomach grumbling at the thought.

Jenna grins back at you, her eyes sparkling in the streetlights. "Lead the way," she says, giving your hand a squeeze. "I'm ready for whatever you have in mind."

You and Jenna wander through the bustling streets of Mexico City, the night air filled with the tantalizing aromas of street food and the lively chatter of locals. After a bit of exploration, you stumble upon a cozy little taqueria tucked away in a side alley. The smell of sizzling meat and warm tortillas draws you in like a magnet.

"This looks perfect," Jenna says, her eyes lighting up as she takes in the colorful decor and the inviting atmosphere.

You nod in agreement, your mouth watering at the thought of authentic Mexican cuisine. "Definitely. Let's check it out."

As you enter the restaurant, the hostess greets you with a warm smile. She leads you to a small table in the corner, the candlelight casting a soft glow over the checkered tablecloth. You settle into your seats, the menus already making your stomach rumble.

"Everything looks so good," Jenna sighs, her finger tracing the options. "I don't know what to choose."

You grin, leaning back in your chair. "Well, we could always share a few dishes. That way we get to try more things."

Jenna's eyes light up. "Ooh, I like the way you think. How about we start with some guacamole and chips, then maybe some tacos al pastor and enchiladas?"

"Sounds perfect," you agree, flagging down the waiter to place your order.

As you wait for the food to arrive, you and Jenna chat about the movie premiere, the different outfits you tried on, and your plans for the rest of your time in Mexico City. The conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter and the occasional brush of hands across the table.

After a long evening of exploring Mexico City and indulging in delicious food, you and Jenna arrive back at your hotel room, exhausted but happy. You can barely keep your eyes open as you stumble through the door, kicking off your shoes and collapsing onto the plush sofa.

Jenna flops down next to you, her head landing on your shoulder. "That was amazing," she mumbles, her words slightly slurred with fatigue. "But I think I might have eaten too many tacos."

You chuckle, wrapping an arm around her waist. "You and me both," you agree, rubbing your stomach. "I thought I was going to burst."

Suddenly, there's a knock at the door. You both startle, your heads snapping up in surprise. The knock comes again, more insistent this time.

"Jenna? Y/N?" a voice calls from the other side. "Are you guys in there?"

You recognize the voice immediately—it's Enrique, Jenna's stylist. You exchange a glance with Jenna, your eyes wide with panic. You had completely forgotten that Enrique was expecting you back earlier.

"Uh, yeah, we're here!" you call out, your voice slightly strained. "Just give us a minute!"

You scramble off the couch, hastily straightening your clothes and running a hand through your hair. Jenna does the same, her movements slightly clumsy with exhaustion.

When you open the door, Enrique is standing there with a look of concern on his face. "Where have you two been?" he demands, his eyes narrowing. "You disappeared for hours! We were worried sick!"

You and Jenna exchange another glance, then burst into laughter, the events of the day catching up to you in a wave of hysteria.

"Sorry, sorry," Jenna gasps out between giggles, wiping tears from her eyes. "We got lost in the city and ended up on a taco crawl. We didn't mean to worry you!"

Enrique's stern expression softens, and he can't help but join in your laughter. "You two are impossible," he sighs, shaking his head.

As Enrique steps into the room, his eyes widen in surprise. "Wait a minute," he exclaims, his gaze flicking between you and Jenna. "What are you two wearing?"

You glance down at your outfit—a simple hoodie and sweatpants, a far cry from the designer leather suit Enrique had so painstakingly selected for you. Jenna looks similarly casual in her ripped jeans and oversized hoodie.

"Oh, uh, we went shopping," Jenna explains, a sheepish grin on her face. "We wanted something a little more comfortable for exploring the city."

Enrique's eyes narrow, his gaze sweeping over your casual attire with a critical eye. "Shopping?" he repeats, his tone a mix of disbelief and exasperation. "You two went shopping while you were supposed to be at the afterparty?"

You and Jenna exchange a guilty glance, suddenly feeling like naughty schoolchildren caught in the act. "Well," you begin, trying to find the right words, "we thought it would be nice to have something a little more practical for our time here in Mexico City. And we didn't want to get the fancy clothes dirty or ripped."

Enrique sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I understand the practicality, but you should have at least let me know. I was starting to think you two had run off and eloped or something."

Jenna lets out a snort of laughter, quickly covering her mouth to stifle the sound. "Eloped? In Mexico City? On the same day as the premiere?" She shakes her head, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "If we were going to do that, we would have at least planned it better."

Enrique rolls his eyes, but you can see the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Very funny," he says dryly. "Just promise me you'll let me know next time you decide to go on a spontaneous shopping spree, okay?"

"We promise," you assure him, holding up your hands in a gesture of surrender. "No more disappearing acts without warning."

Enrique nods, seemingly satisfied with your response. "Alright then. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some calls to make. I need to do damage control after your little stunt." He gives you both a mock glare before turning to leave.

As soon as he's gone, you and Jenna collapse onto the couch once again, dissolving into a fit of giggles. The exhaustion of the day catches up to you, and before you know it, you're fast asleep, your heads resting on each other's shoulders.

The morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the hotel room. You blink awake slowly, your eyes adjusting to the light. For a moment, you're disoriented, unsure of where you are. Then the memories of the previous night come flooding back—the premiere, the shopping trip, the delicious tacos.

You turn your head to the side, your gaze landing on Jenna. She's still fast asleep, her face relaxed and peaceful in the early morning light. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of her, and you can't help but smile.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, you shift closer, your bodies pressing together under the soft sheets. Jenna stirs slightly, her arm draping across your waist as she mumbles something unintelligible.

You let your fingers trace the curve of her cheek, marveling at the smoothness of her skin. In moments like these, it's hard to believe that she's a famous actress, that thousands of people adore her. To you, she's simply Jenna—your Jenna—the girl who makes your heart race and your soul sing.

As if sensing your thoughts, Jenna begins to stir. Her eyes flutter open, her gaze hazy with sleep. When she sees you watching her, a slow smile spreads across her face.

"Morning," she murmurs, her voice rough with sleep.

"Good morning," you reply softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Sleep well?"

Jenna stretches languidly, a soft yawn escaping her lips. "Like a baby," she says, her voice still groggy. "You?"

"Pretty good," you reply, your fingers still tracing lazy patterns on her cheek. "Though I might have gotten used to this view."

Jenna's cheeks flush a soft pink, and she ducks her head shyly. "Flatterer," she teases, but you can see the pleased smile tugging at her lips.

You lean in, your forehead resting against hers. "I'm not flattering," you murmur. "I'm just stating facts."

Jenna's eyes sparkle with mirth, and she closes the distance between you, pressing her lips to yours in a soft, sweet kiss. You melt into it, your arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer.

The kiss deepens, growing more urgent as the morning haze lifts. Jenna's hands slip under your shirt, her touch sending shivers down your spine. You lose yourself in the sensation, in the feel of her body against yours, the taste of her lips.

After a long moment, you both pull back, breathless and smiling. Jenna's hair is mussed, her lips swollen, and you've never seen anything more beautiful.

"Wow," she breathes, her eyes dark with desire. "Good morning indeed."

You grin, your heart feeling full to bursting. "Breakfast?" you suggest, though your gaze lingers on her lips.

Jenna laughs, a sound of pure joy. "Food can wait," she says, pulling you back in for another kiss. "I'd rather savor this moment a little longer."

You lose yourself in Jenna's kiss, the rest of the world fading away until it's just the two of you, wrapped in each other's arms. Her lips are soft and insistent against yours, her tongue teasing the seam of your mouth until you part your lips to let her in.

A small moan escapes you as Jenna deepens the kiss, her hands sliding up your back to tangle in your hair. You can feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of your sleep shirts, the curves of her hips pressing into your own.

Dimly, you register the sound of a phone buzzing somewhere in the room, a reminder of the outside world waiting beyond the closed door. But you push it aside, too lost in Jenna's embrace to care.

After a long moment, you both surfaced for air, your chests heaving. Jenna's eyes are dark, her pupils blown wide with desire. "I want you," she whispers, her voice low and husky. "I want you so badly."

Your heart races at her words, at the raw need in her voice. "I want you too," you breathe, your hands sliding down to cup her face. "So much."

Jenna takes your hand in hers, guiding it slowly down her body. Her skin is warm and soft beneath your fingertips, and you can feel the rapid beating of her heart as you trail your hand lower, over the swell of her breasts and the dip of her waist.

She lets out a soft gasp as your hand skims over the hem of her sleep shirt, dipping just beneath the fabric to brush against the smooth skin of her stomach. Her grip on your hand tightens, urging you higher, until your palm is cupping the weight of her breast.

You can feel her nipple hardening against your touch, the sensitive bud straining against the thin cotton of her shirt. Jenna arches into your hand, a soft moan escaping her lips as you knead her flesh.

"Please," she whimpers, her hips grinding against yours in a slow, deliberate motion. "Touch me, Y/N. Make me feel good."

Your own desire is a hot, pulsing need between your legs, but you force yourself to focus on Jenna, on bringing her pleasure. With a gentle tug, you pull her shirt up over her head, exposing the creamy expanse of her skin to your hungry gaze.

"You're so beautiful," you murmur, your hands skimming over the curve of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips. "I can't believe I get to touch you like this."

Jenna shivers under your touch, her skin pebbling with goosebumps as your hands explore every inch of her bare flesh. She reaches for you, tugging impatiently at the hem of your own sleep shirt, desperate to feel your skin against hers.

You comply eagerly, lifting your arms so she can pull the shirt over your head. As soon as it's gone, Jenna's hands are on you, tracing the contours of your chest, your stomach, your sides. She leans in, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, down the center of your chest, until she reaches the valley between your breasts.

You gasp at the sensation, your head falling back as Jenna's lips and tongue work their magic on your sensitive skin. Her hands slide lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your sleep shorts to cup your ass, pulling you harder against her.

The ache between your legs is growing, your clit throbbing with need, but you focus on the feel of Jenna's body against yours, the way she makes you feel cherished and desired. You slide your hand between your bodies, palming Jenna's breast, thumbing over her nipple until it's hard and straining.

Jenna moans into your skin, her hips bucking against your hand. "I need you," she pants, her voice rough with want. "Please, Y/N. I need to feel you."

Your own need is a pulsing heat, your panties damp with arousal. With trembling fingers, you slip your hand into Jenna's shorts, groaning at the wet heat of her. She's soaked, her folds swollen and slick with desire.

"Fuck," you breathe, circling her clit with your thumb. "You're so wet for me."

You slide your fingers through Jenna's slick folds, teasing her entrance with the tips of your fingers. She's so wet, so ready for you, and the knowledge sends a thrill of desire straight to your core.

Slowly, carefully, you push one finger inside her, groaning at the tight heat of her walls. Jenna bites her lip, her hips rolling in a slow grind against your hand as you work her open. Her inner muscles flutter around your digit, drawing you deeper.

"More," she whispers, her eyes dark and pleading. "Please, Y/N. I need more."

You add a second finger, curling them just so, brushing against that spot deep inside that makes her see stars. Jenna's breath hitches, a small moan escaping her lips as you stroke her most sensitive places.

You kiss her deeply, swallowing her whimpers as you finger her faster, harder, pushing her towards the edge. Her hips move in time with your hand, her thighs trembling with the force of her arousal.

"That's it," you murmur against her lips. "Let go for me, Jenna. Come for me."

Jenna shudders, her walls clenching around your fingers as she comes with a soft cry. Her orgasm washes over her in waves, her body shuddering and twitching as she rides out the pleasure.

You hold her close, your fingers gentling their movements as she comes down, pressing soft kisses to her neck and collarbone. When she finally stills, you withdraw your hand, bringing your fingers to your mouth to taste her essence.

Jenna watches you with heavy-lidded eyes, her lips parted and her chest heaving. "That was... incredible," she breathes, reaching out to tangle her fingers in your hair. "But I'm not done with you yet."

With a wicked grin, she pushes you onto your back, settling between your thighs. "Your turn," she purrs, her fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts. "And I plan to take my time."

—

[siciliana123]

coitus

pairings: wednesday x fem!reader

warnings: smut 18+, strap-on used (r receiving), just lesbian sex, dom!wednesday, sub!reader (all characters are 18+)

summary: wednesday invites you to her dorm to engage in ‘coitus’— as she so sexily put it. (requested by anon which can be found at the end)

MASTERLIST

The last five minutes of class felt like they stretched into eternity. You were barely keeping yourself upright, blinking slowly, the professor’s voice fading into white noise. Your body screamed for rest, but then—

Slide.

A small piece of folded paper appeared on your desk, pushed toward you by none other than Wednesday— your girlfriend.

You straightened a little, eyes flickering to hers, but as usual, her expression was unreadable. Still, there was something expectant in the way she held your gaze, waiting.

Carefully, you unfolded the note.

‘My dorm. 7 PM sharp. Do not be late.’

No signature, no explanation—just Wednesday being Wednesday.

By the time class ended, you’d hoped to find her lingering outside, but she was already gone. Typical. With no other option, you went searching for Enid instead, if anyone knew Wednesday’s whereabouts, it would be her.

You found her in the common area, chatting with Yoko about something unimportant before perking up the moment she saw you. “Hey, bestie! What’s up?”

“I’m looking for Wednesday,” you said, crossing your arms. “She left me a note, but I have no idea what for.”

Enid’s ears practically perked up like an excited golden retriever. “Ooooh, mysterious.” Then, as if just remembering, she added, “Oh, by the way, I’m crashing at Yoko’s tonight.”

That made you pause. “Why?”

“Oh, Wednesday said she wanted to have—” Enid scrunched her face, thinking. “What was the word? Coitus?”

You blinked. “…What?”

“Yeah, coitus.” She shrugged. “No clue what it means, but it sounded kinda serious, so I figured it was best to leave.”

Your stomach flipped. Something about that word—coitus—felt… ominous. Like it held some kind of heavy importance you weren’t grasping.

“What the hell does ‘coitus’ mean?” you muttered.

“I dunno.” Enid patted your shoulder. “But whatever it is, have fun!”

After your conversation with Enid, you felt a creeping sense of unease settle over you.

Coitus.

The word bounced around your head like a stray ping-pong ball. It sounded scientific, almost clinical. And with Wednesday involved, there was a very real possibility that it was exactly that.

Which is why you now found yourself sneaking into the chemistry lab, eyes darting around as you grabbed a pair of safety glasses from the supply shelf.

Whatever Wednesday had in store, it was better to be prepared.

Sliding them into your pocket, you left the lab with a sense of grim determination.

—

Your knuckles rapped against the heavy wooden door of Wednesday's dorm room, three sharp, decisive knocks that echoed in the quiet hallway. You shifted your weight from foot to foot, hands fidgeting nervously at your sides as you waited for a response.

After what felt like an eternity, the door swung open with a low creak, revealing Wednesday standing in the dimly lit entryway. She was dressed in her usual dark attire - a black turtleneck, long skirt, and those damned boots you loved so much. Her hair was slicked back into a tight braid, and her pale skin seemed to glow in the low light.

"Punctual," she observed, stepping aside to let you enter. "I appreciate your timeliness."

You stepped into Wednesday's room, your eyes immediately drawn to the bed draped in a white towel, the fabric stark against the dark decor. Beside it sat an unmarked cardboard box, its plain brown surface somehow more unsettling than any gothic trinket.

Turning to face Wednesday, you crossed your arms, a mix of curiosity and trepidation in your voice. "Wednesday, what exactly does 'coitus' mean? Enid mentioned it earlier, and... I want to know what I'm walking into here."

Wednesday closed the door behind you, the latch clicking into place with a sense of finality. She turned to you, her dark eyes glinting in the low light.

"'Coitus'," she repeated, as if tasting the word on her tongue. "It means... communion. Intimacy. The joining of two souls in the most primal, carnal sense.”

“Oh.”

You blinked, dumbfounded by Wednesday's blunt explanation. A flush crept up your neck as the true meaning of her earlier note sank in. You reached up and removed the safety glasses, feeling rather foolish for bringing them.

"Right," you mumble weakly, setting them down on a nearby table. "I thought... I mean, I didn't know if you meant..." You trailed off, suddenly tongue-tied.

Wednesday watched you, an almost amused smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "Did you think I was going to conduct a science experiment?" she asked, one eyebrow arching.

She stepped closer, her skirt swishing softly with each step. "I have done extensive research on the techniques that are used when engaging in coitus. Our first time will be… superlative at best.”

She stopped just short of you, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off her skin, could smell the faint scent of her perfume - something dark and floral, like night-blooming jasmine.

"And I intend to discover every inch of you," she murmured, reaching out to trail a finger along your jawline. "Every curve, every quiver, every breathy gasp.”

Her hand slid down to cup your chin, tilting your face to meet her gaze. In the low light, her eyes seemed to glow with a fevered intensity.

“Clothes off.”

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. With shaking hands, you reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion. You let it drop to the floor, standing before Wednesday in just your bra and bottoms.

Wednesday's gaze raked over your newly exposed skin, lingering on the curves of your breasts, the dip of your waist.

"All of it," she murmured, her voice a dark purr. "I want to see all of you."

You reached behind your back, unhooking your bra with deft fingers. It fell away, revealing your breasts to her hungry gaze.

Next, you shimmied out of your bottoms, letting them pool at your feet. You kicked them off, standing before her in nothing but your underwear. The lace felt too thin, too flimsy against the weight of her inspection.

Wednesday paused in her circling, standing before you. She reached out, tracing the delicate lace of your panties, her finger dipping just slightly beneath the fabric to brush against your skin.

"Lay down," she commanded softly, nodding towards the bed.

You did as you were told, the towel-draped mattress creaking beneath your weight as you settled onto it. The fabric of the towel was rough and cold against your skin.

She kicks off her boots before disrobing with precision, each article of clothing falling away to reveal more of her pale skin. First went the black turtleneck, pulled over her head in one smooth motion to expose the lacy black bra beneath. She reached behind her back, unhooking it with a flick of her fingers.

Her breasts, now freed, were full and perfect. She let the bra drop to the floor, kicking it aside carelessly.

Next, she shimmied out of her skirt, the dark fabric slithering down her slender legs. Beneath, she wore a pair of simple black panties.

Now clad in only her underwear, Wednesday turned her attention to the ominous box. She lifted the lid, revealing a black leather strap-on nestled within.

She lifted it out, the harness glinting in the low light. It was simple, black leather straps and a rigid, silicone phallic shape jutting out from the center. She stepped into it, securing the straps around her hips and thighs with practiced ease.

The strap-on nestled against her pubic bone, the leather of the harness smooth and cool against her skin. She adjusted it, ensuring a snug fit before turning back to you, a dark smirk playing at her lips.

"There," she murmured, drinking in the sight of you splayed out before her. "Now, let's begin our... communion."

Wednesday crawled onto the bed, the towel crinkling beneath her knees. She hovered over you. Her eyes, dark and intense, never left yours as she leaned down to press a kiss to your breastbone.

You gasped softly, your back arching off the bed as her lips brushed against your skin. She smirked against your flesh, trailing kisses up the curve of your breast to circle your nipple with the tip of her tongue. Your nipple hardened under her ministrations.

Without warning, she drew your nipple into her mouth, suckling hard. Pleasure sparked through you, shooting straight to your core. You tangled your fingers in her hair, gripping the strands as you arched into her touch.

Wednesday released your nipple with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting her mouth to your breast. She grinned up at you, a wicked glint in her eyes.

"Beautiful," she murmured, trailing her fingertips down your stomach, mapping out the dip and curve of your muscles. "You're exquisite."

Her hand dipped beneath the waistband of your panties, teasing the sensitive skin there. You squirmed, a breathy whimper escaping your lips.

Then, with a sudden tug, she pulled your panties down your legs. The fabric scraped against your skin as she dragged them lower and lower, until she was tossing them onto the floor.

Now, with nothing separating your most intimate place from her touch, Wednesday settled between your thighs. She brushed her fingertips against your folds, feeling the wetness gathering there.

"Already so wet," she purred, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "I've barely touched you, and you're dripping."

To prove her point, she brought her fingers to her lips, sucking your arousal from her digits. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she hummed in approval.

"Delectable," she murmured, before leaning down to brush the head of the strap-on against your dripping slit.

She teased you with it, rubbing the smooth silicone tip against your clit, circling your entrance. She took her time, drawing out the anticipation until you were writhing beneath her, desperate for more.

"Please," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. “Mmph…”

Wednesday paused, the head of the strap-on hovering just at your entrance. She looked up at you, her eyes glinting with dark amusement at your desperation.

"Please what?" she murmured, a wicked smirk playing at her lips. "Tell me what you want. I want to hear you say it."

She pressed the tip of the strap-on harder against your folds, not quite entering you, but applying a pressure that made you ache for more. Her other hand slid up your body, cupping your breast, kneading the soft flesh.

"Tell me," she urged, rolling your nipple between her fingers, pinching it lightly. "Beg for it, and I might just give you what you want."

"Please, Wednesday," you whimpered, your voice trembling with need. "I... I want you. I want to feel you inside me. I need you to... to fuck me."

The words felt foreign on your tongue, but the desperation in your voice was unmistakable. Your hips bucked up against the strap-on, seeking more.

Wednesday's eyes darkened at your plea, a flash of hunger sparking in their depths. "Good girl," she purred, before thrusting forward, burying the strap-on deep inside you with one smooth stroke.

You cried out, your back arching off the bed as you were suddenly full. The stretch was intense, bordering on painful, but it faded into pleasure as your body adjusted to the size.

"Oh god," you gasped, your nails digging into the sheets beneath you. "Wednesday... it's so big."

"You can take it," Wednesday countered. She started to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, setting a hard, fast pace.

The room filled with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin and your wanton cries. She loomed over you, her pale skin slick with a layer of sweat.

"Fuck," she hissed, her hips snapping forward with brutal force. "So tight. So perfect."

One hand gripped your hip, fingers sinking into the flesh hard enough to leave marks. The other slid up your body to wrap around your throat, applying just a hint of pressure, just enough to make you feel your airway tighten.

Wednesday leaned down. She paused her m movements, the strap-on buried deep inside you, as she captured your lips in a searing kiss.

It started as a bite, her teeth sinking into your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. You gasped into her mouth, the metallic taste exploding on your tongue. But then her mouth softened, her lips moving against yours in a fierce, hungry rhythm.

She kissed you like she was starving for it, like she wanted to devour you whole. Her tongue entered your mouth, tangling with yours. She tasted minty, as though she had brushed her teeth beforehand.

As she kissed you, she started to move again, her hips rolling in a slow, sensual grind. The strap-on slid in and out of you with a maddeningly steady rhythm.

She broke the kiss to trail her lips down the column of your throat, pausing to suck a dark bruise into the skin at the joining of your neck and shoulder. You knew it would be visible in the light of day - a mark of her possession, her claim on you.

"Mine," she growled against your skin, punctuating the word with a sharp thrust of her hips. "All mine. Say it."

She wanted to hear you say it. Wanted you to acknowledge who you belonged to, who owned you in this moment.

"Yours!" you cried out, your voice breaking on a high, keening wail as the pleasure crested over you like a tidal wave. "Oh god, yes.. fuck.. I'm yours, Wednesday! All yours."

Your nails raked down her back, leaving red lines of passion etched into her pale skin. Your legs wrapped around her waist, heels digging into her backside as you pulled her impossibly closer.

Wednesday grunted, a sound of dark satisfaction rumbling in her chest. She captured your lips again, swallowing your cries.

Wednesday's hand slid down your body, her fingers finding your clit. She rubbed the sensitive nub in tight, hard circles, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.

"Come for me," she commanded, her voice a dark growl in your ear. "Let me feel you come around me. Now."

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" you moaned, your body twitching beneath Wednesday as the orgasm crashed over you. Your vision went black as pleasure consumed you.

Wednesday didn't let up, pounding into you through your climax with ruthless intensity. Each thrust pushed you higher, the coil of ecstasy in your core winding tighter and tighter until you thought you might snap.

Her fingers flicked over your clit, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

Your body continued to shake and convulse with the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, legs trembling around Wednesday's waist. She slowed her pace, her hips rolling languidly as she worked you through the waves of pleasure.

Finally, with a low, satisfied grunt, she stilled completely. She hovered over you, chest heaving as she caught her breath.

"Beautiful," she murmured, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. Her touch was surprisingly gentle.

She leaned down to press a soft, almost tender kiss to your forehead. Then, with another grunt of effort, she rolled off you and onto her side, pulling you with her.

You lay tangled in her arms, your head pillowed on her chest, listening to the pounding of her heart as it gradually slowed. Her fingers traced idle patterns on your back, a soothing, almost loving caress.

"Sleep now," she whispered, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. "Rest. You've earned it after that… ravishing first time.”

—

REQUEST: we need wednesday using a strap-on on us bro please and it's both our first time😭 please write it

[siciliana123]

puppy love

pairings: vada x reader (g!p)

wc: 4.8k

warnings: smut 18+, reader has a dick, both inexperienced, p in v, kissing, swearing here and there (requested by anon — written at the end)

Vada’s room was dimly lit, the only real source of light coming from the string of LED lights lining her ceiling. The movie you’d put on half an hour ago had long been forgotten, playing to no audience as you and Vada were tangled up on her bed, lips moving in sync, bodies pressed close.

It wasn’t the first time you two had made out like this—far from it—but tonight, something about the way she was touching you felt different. More urgent. More deliberate.

Then, her hand started to drift.

You stiffened slightly when her fingers slipped beneath your shirt, her touch warm against your skin. Not that you didn’t want her to touch you—because you really, really did—but this was new. Unexplored territory.

You pulled back just enough to look at her, still breathless. “Vada?”

She blinked up at you, lips pink and slightly swollen. “Yeah?”

You hesitated. “What are we doing?”

A small, nervous smile tugged at her lips. “I mean… I figured it was kinda obvious.”

Your stomach flipped. “You wanna…?”

“Yeah.” Her fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Don’t you?”

You swallowed. “I mean, yeah, but like… shouldn’t we, I dunno, get condoms or something?”

Vada’s brows lifted slightly, and then she let out a quiet, breathy laugh. “Oh. Right.”

It was like the reality of the situation hit both of you at the same time.

Vada never planned things—she just did them. Which was probably why she hadn’t even thought about protection, too caught up in the heat of the moment. And honestly? Neither had you.

She flopped onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. “Damn. I totally killed the mood, huh?”

You chuckled, lying down beside her. “Not exactly. Just… postponed it.”

Vada turned her head to look at you, an amused glint in her eye. “So… rain check?”

You smirked. “Rain check.”

She huffed a dramatic sigh. “Guess we should’ve watched the movie after all.”

You sat up and grabbed your phone off the nightstand, quickly pulling up a browser window. You searched for "condom laws California" and scanned the results.

After a moment, you glanced over at Vada, still lying on her back with her hands behind her head. "Looks like you gotta be 18 to buy them, but no ID is required."

Vada blinked up at you. "Oh. Guess that's lucky."

You nodded, setting your phone back down. "Small mercies, huh?"

She smirked slightly. "Small mercies." Rolling onto her side to face you again, she reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. "I guess I should've planned this out a little better, huh?"

You shrugged, a wry smile on your lips. "Hey, it's not like we had a ton of time to plan much of anything."

Vada snorted softly. "True. It's not like I exactly saw this coming when I dragged you back here after school."

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. "Well, I'm glad you did."

She grinned at you, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Me too. Even if I did kinda screw up the execution."

"Eh, you're allowed to be impulsive sometimes," you teased.

"Mmm, I'm allowed to do a lot of things," she murmured, leaning in closer. Her lips hovered just inches from yours.

Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart began to pound. "Like what?" you whispered.

She smirked, eyes glinting with a wicked, playful light. "Like this."

Then she kissed you again.

Just as Vada was pulling you back down onto the bed, lips moving hungrily against yours, there was a sudden knock at the door.

You both froze, eyes wide as you stared at each other in shock.

"Vada?" Patricia called out from the other side of the door. "I brought you and your… friend some snacks."

Vada's mouth fell open, panic flashing across her face. She quickly pushed herself up and off the bed, running a hand through her disheveled hair in an attempt to make herself look more presentable.

"Shit," she hissed under her breath, glancing around the room frantically. Empty soda cans and candy wrappers were scattered across every surface.

She grabbed a few and shoved them under the bed, then turned to you with wide, anxious eyes. "Uh, just, like, pretend we were, um, watching a movie or something, okay?" She grabbed the remote and turned up the volume just as her mother knocked again.

"Vada? Is everything alright in there?" Patricia asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

Vada took a deep breath and opened the door, just a crack. "Yeah, Mom, we're fine. We were just, um, watching a movie," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Patricia peeked her head in, glancing around the dimly lit room. Her eyes fell on you, and she gave you a warm smile. "Oh, I see. Well, I thought you two might be hungry, so I brought you some snacks." She held up a tray of cookies and chips.

You offered Patricia a polite smile, trying to appear as casual and unflustered as possible. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Cavell. That's really kind of you."

Patricia returned your smile warmly, setting the tray down on Vada's desk. "Please, call me Patricia," she said kindly. "I'm just glad you two are enjoying some quality time together."

Vada shifted uncomfortably beside you, clearly anxious about her mother's unexpected visit. She crossed her arms defensively. "Thanks, Mom. We're good though, so..."

Patricia seemed to pick up on her daughter's unease, her brow furrowing slightly. "Alright, well, I'll let you two get back to your movie then," she said, lingering for a moment before stepping back out into the hallway. "Remember, Vada, your sister and I will be in the living room if you need anything."

"Got it," Vada muttered, already starting to close the door.

"Oh, and Vada?" Patricia added, pausing in the doorway. "Your father and I just want you to know that we're here for you, no matter what. If there's anything you need to talk about..."

Vada's jaw clenched, and she looked away, unable to meet her mother's concerned gaze. "Yeah, I know, Mom. It's fine."

Patricia hesitated for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Okay. Goodnight then."

With that, she finally closed the door, leaving the two of you alone once more. The second the door clicked shut, Vada let out a shaky breath, running a hand over her face.

"Fuck," she muttered, collapsing back onto the bed. "That was too close."

As the movie played on, you both sat on the bed, munching on the snacks Patricia had brought. The chips were crisp and salty, the cookies sweet and soft. It was a nice change of pace from the junk food you'd been consuming all week.

Every so often, your hands would brush against each other as you reached for more snacks, sending a small spark of electricity through you. Vada would glance over at you, a small smirk playing at the corners of her mouth, before looking back at the TV screen.

The movie was a cheesy 80s teen comedy, the kind of thing you both normally would have made fun of. But tonight, it was a welcome distraction, something to fill the silence between you.

As the night wore on, you found yourself growing more and more tired. Your eyelids felt heavy, and your body yearned for rest. Beside you, Vada seemed to be struggling to stay awake as well, her head nodding slightly as she fought to keep her eyes open.

Eventually, she gave up, leaning back against the wall and closing her eyes completely. Her breathing slowed, and her body went still.

You watched her for a long moment, admiring the way her lashes fluttered against her cheeks, the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She looked so peaceful when she was sleeping, so different from the anxious, guarded girl she usually was.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, you set the half-eaten bag of chips aside and shifted closer to her on the bed. You draped a light blanket over the both of you, tucking it around your shoulders.

Vada murmured softly in her sleep, nuzzling into your shoulder. A small, contented smile curved her lips.

You couldn't help but smile back, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. You knew you should probably go to sleep too, but you didn't want to miss a single moment of this rare, quiet intimacy between you.

Instead, you wrapped an arm around Vada's waist, holding her close as the movie played on, the flickering light of the TV screen casting a soft glow over the two of you curled up together on the bed.

—

You and Vada stood in the dimly lit aisle of the drugstore, staring up at the wall of condoms with wide, uncertain eyes. There were so many options, it was almost overwhelming. Different brands, different sizes, different... flavors?

Vada let out a low whistle, shaking her head. "I had no idea there were this many kinds," she muttered, reaching out to grab a box and turning it over in her hands.

You glanced at the package, raising an eyebrow. "Lubricated, textured, extra strength, extra sensitivity..." You shook your head, feeling a bit overwhelmed. "How are we supposed to know which ones to get?"

Vada shrugged, tossing the box back onto the shelf. "I guess we just pick something and hope for the best?" she suggested, not sounding very convinced.

You bit your lip, scanning the shelves again. "I read somewhere that you're supposed to get condoms that fit snugly but aren't too tight," you offered, trying to remember the details from some article you'd skimmed online.

Vada snorted. "Snugly but not too tight. Got it." She grabbed another box and held it up. "What about these? They say they're 'form fitting'."

You looked at the package, then back up at Vada. "I don't know. How do we know if they'll fit me?" you asked, feeling a bit flustered.

Vada looked down at the condom package in her hand, then back up at you with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Well, there's only one way to find out," she said with a grin, holding the box out to you. "Here. Let's try one on you and see how it fits."

You felt your cheeks flush hotly at the suggestion, glancing around the empty aisle to make sure no one was watching. "Here? Now?" you hissed, lowering your voice to a whisper. "Vada, we can't just... I mean, what if someone sees us?"

Vada rolled her eyes, but there was a playful smirk on her lips. "Relax, no one's around. And it's not like we're going to have sex right here in the middle of the drugstore aisle," she pointed out, though there was a hint of teasing in her tone that made you wonder if she was entirely joking.

You shook your head vehemently, grabbing a plain box of condoms off the shelf. "No way, Vada. I'm not about to start experimenting with weird textured condoms in the middle of the store," you said firmly, clutching the box of regular condoms to your chest like a shield.

Vada let out a dramatic sigh, but she couldn't keep the smirk from her face. "Fine, fine. Plain old boring condoms it is," she relented, plucking the box from your hands and tossing it into the basket.

She started to walk towards the checkout counter, but paused, glancing back at you with a wicked grin. "You know, I never thought I'd be so excited to buy condoms," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, well, I never thought I'd be buying them with you," you shot back, feeling a sudden surge of courage. "But here we are."

As you approached the counter with Vada, the cashier, an older man with a stern expression and a name tag that read “Roy,” eyed you both warily. His gaze lingered a bit too long on the box of condoms Vada had placed on the counter, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

Roy cleared his throat, looking up at you with a raised eyebrow. "ID," he said gruffly, holding out his hand expectantly.

Vada glanced over at you, a flicker of panic in her eyes. She leaned in close to murmur in your ear, "Shit, I forgot my wallet. You got yours?"

You quickly reached into your pocket and pulled out your student ID, holding it out to the skeptical cashier with a slightly trembling hand. "Here," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "I'm 18."

Roy snatched the ID from your hand, examining it closely under the bright fluorescent lights of the checkout counter. He peered at it for what felt like an eternity, his eyes darting back and forth between your photo and your face.

Vada shifted nervously beside you, her hand finding yours and squeezing it tightly. You could feel the tension radiating off of her, and you knew she was just as anxious as you were.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Roy let out a gruff "Hmph" and handed your ID back to you. "Alright then," he said, ringing up the condoms and placing them in a small plastic bag. "That'll be $14.99."

Your eyes widened at the price, and you couldn't help but mutter "Damn" under your breath as you fished out a crumpled $20 bill from your wallet. You handed it to Roy, watching as he made change and placed it in your palm.

Vada glanced over at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Guess condoms aren't cheap," she murmured, taking the bag from Roy's hand and tucking it into her backpack before he could see the contents.

Roy handed you your change, and you quickly shoved it into your pocket, eager to get out of there. As you turned to leave, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. You'd done it. You'd actually bought condoms. Together. You deserve a big pat on the back.

—

You sat on the couch with Vada, her family surrounding you. Patricia and Carlos were engrossed in some boring talk show, while Amelia was curled up on the opposite end of the couch, her nose buried in her phone as usual. Vada was lounging beside you, her thigh pressed against yours.

Every so often, Vada would glance over at you, her eyes glinting with a secret message. Each time, your heart would skip a beat, knowing that she was thinking the same thing you were - that once everyone was asleep, you'd finally have the chance to be alone together, to take things to the next level.

You tried to focus on the TV, but it was impossible to concentrate on the inane chatter and canned laughter. Your mind was racing, imagining all the things Vada might do to you once you were finally behind the closed door of her bedroom. You'd never been this nervous or excited before, and you could tell Vada was feeling the same way.

As the night wore on and the minutes ticked by agonizingly slowly, you could feel your anticipation growing. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Patricia stood up and stretched. "Alright, everyone, it's getting late. Time for bed."

Amelia marked her page and set her book aside, standing up and heading for the stairs without a word. Patricia followed after her, flicking off the living room lights and leaving you and Vada in the dim glow of the TV.

The second they were out of the room,

Vada grabbed your hand and quickly pulled you off the couch, leading you out of the living room and down the short hallway to her bedroom door. You could hear the distant sounds of her family moving around in the kitchen and bathroom as they got ready for bed.

As soon as you were both inside Vada's room, she shut the door behind you. The room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of LED lights that she can’t live without.

Vada turned to face you, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she backed towards the bed. "Finally," she murmured, her voice low and breathy. "I thought they'd never go to bed."

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry with nerves and anticipation. "I know," you whispered back, taking a step towards her. "I was starting to go crazy out there."

Vada reached out and grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head in one swift motion. She tossed it aside, leaving her wearing just a simple black bra and a baggy pair of shorts.

Vada grinned at your reaction, a wicked gleam in her eye. "Like what you see?" she teased, doing a little twirl to show off her exposed midriff and the way her shorts hung low on her hips.

You quickly covered your mouth, trying to stifle the moan that had threatened to spill out at the sight of her. "Vada," you hissed, feeling your face flush hotly. "You can't just... I mean... wow."

She laughed, a low, sultry sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Wow, huh?" she repeated, smirking as she took another step towards you. "I think that's the first time I've ever heard you speechless.”

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice again. "It's not every day I see you half-naked," you pointed out, your eyes still roaming over her exposed skin appreciatively.

Vada paused for a moment, glancing around her room. "Shit, where did I put that bag?" she muttered, rummaging through the clutter on her desk and nightstand.

You watched as she searched, feeling your heart pounding in your chest as the anticipation built. Finally, Vada let out a triumphant "Aha!" and held up the small plastic bag, a grin spreading across her face.

She tossed the bag onto the bed and turned back to you, a wicked glint in her eye. "Found them," she said, reaching out to grab the hem of your shirt.

In one swift motion, she pulled it up and over your head, leaving you standing there in just your bra. Your skin tingled as the cool air hit you, and you couldn't help but shiver slightly.

You pulled Vada into a heated kiss, your lips moving eagerly against hers. She melted into you, her hands roaming over your back and tangling in your hair. You stumbled slightly as you walked her backwards towards the bed, your hearts racing in sync.

Vada fell back against the bed with a soft "Oof", pulling you down on top of her. She looked up at you, her brown eyes dark with desire in the low light of her bedroom. Her chest was heaving, her breathing already growing heavier as the anticipation built between you.

You hovered over her, one hand braced on the mattress beside her head while the other trailed lightly down her side, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your fingertips.

Vada reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, tossing it aside carelessly. As her breasts were revealed to you, you couldn't help but let out a small, humorous whimper at the sight of her perfect, soft mounds. You were definitely fully hard at this point.

Vada smirked up at you, a wicked glint in her eye as she noticed your reaction. "Like what you see?" she teased, arching her back slightly to push her chest up towards you.

“Shut up.” You grumbled, silently cursing yourself for letting that noise slip out.

Vada's eyes raked over your body as you stripped off your jeans, leaving you in just your underwear. She licked her lips, a hungry look in her eyes as she took in the sight of your curves. Her gaze lingered on the bulge in your underwear, and she couldn't help but smirk.

She reached out, trailing a finger along the waistband of your underwear. You shivered at her touch, feeling your heart race in anticipation.

"Do you want to...?" Vada asked, nodding towards the foil packet you'd placed on the bed beside you.

You nervously nodded at Vada, your mouth dry with anticipation. "Yeah, I do," you managed to say, your voice cracking slightly. "Why don't you take off your shorts and panties while I... while I get this on?"

Vada smirked, shimmying out of her shorts and panties in one fluid motion. She tossed them to the side, leaving her completely bare before you. You tried not to stare too obviously at her naked lower half, your heart pounding in your chest.

With trembling fingers, you reached down and pushed your underwear off, freeing your aching, hard member. It sprang up, throbbing and ready. You picked up the foil packet, trying to tear it open with shaking hands.

It took longer than you would have liked to roll the condom onto your length. You fumbled with the latex, trying to smooth out the wrinkles and get it to sit properly.

Vada watched you with an amused smile, shaking her head as you struggled to get the condom on. "You're such a goof," she teased, a playful smirk on her lips.

Unable to resist teasing you further, Vada pulled you back on top, reached down and grabbed your hard, covered length in her hand. She guided you to her entrance, trying to line you up. But in her enthusiasm, she missed a few times, causing you both to let out frustrated grunts.

Finally, after a few failed attempts, Vada managed to position you at the right spot. With a gentle push of her hips, she guided you inside her, letting out a low moan as you entered her slowly.

You gasped as you felt her tight, wet cunt enveloping you. It was a foreign but incredible sensation, unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. You both were technically virgins until this very moment, so the new sensations and experiences were overwhelming for both of you. Vada let out a soft whimper as she felt you enter her for the first time, her body tensing slightly at the unfamiliar intrusion.

"Ah..." she gasped, her fingers digging into your shoulders as she tried to relax her muscles. "That feels... intense."

You nodded, your breathing growing heavier as you fought the urge to start moving, to start thrusting into her. "I know," you said, your voice strained.

Vada bit her lip, her brow furrowed in concentration as she adjusted to the new sensation of having you inside her. "It hurts," she admitted, her voice soft and breathy. "But it also feels really good."

She wiggled her hips slightly, trying to find a comfortable position. The movement made you both gasp, and you felt a jolt of pleasure course through your body at the sensation of her walls clenching around your length.

Vada looked up at you, her brown eyes dark and hazy with a mix of discomfort and desire. "I think... I think I'm ready," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You can start moving now."

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves as you slowly began to move inside Vada. You started with shallow thrusts, not wanting to hurt her any more than necessary. She let out a shaky moan, her fingers digging into your back as she tried to match your rhythm.

As you both grew more comfortable, your thrusts became deeper and more confident. The bed creaked softly beneath you with each push and pull of your hips. Vada's breathing grew heavier, her chest rising and falling in time with your movements.

"Ah... that feels so good," she gasped, wrapping her legs around your waist to pull you closer. The new angle allowed you to go even deeper, and you both cried out at the intense sensation.

You leaned down to capture Vada's lips in a heated kiss, pouring all of your passion and desire into it. She kissed you back just as fervently, her tongue dancing with yours as you lost yourself in the moment.

Your heart raced as you continued to move inside her, chasing the building pleasure. You knew you wouldn't last long, not with how incredible she felt wrapped around you like this.

You tried your best to control your breathing, to focus on the sensation of Vada's body beneath you and the soft moans spilling from her lips. But it was incredibly difficult to last, especially for a first time.

You could feel your climax fast approaching, your body tensing as the pleasure became almost too intense to bear. Panting heavily, you looked down at Vada, your eyes filled with desperate need.

"Vada," you gasped out, your voice strained with urgency. "I... I don't know if I can hold back much longer."

Vada's eyes fluttered open, hazy with her own building pleasure. She nodded, a breathless moan escaping her lips. "It's okay," she said, her voice barely audible. "Touch me... touch my clit. I need... I need to come too."

You reached down between her legs, your fingers finding her sensitive nub. As you touched it, Vada cried out, her back arching off the bed. You rubbed it in slow, firm circles, feeling her body start to tremble beneath you.

"That's it," she panted, her hips grinding against your hand as you touched her. "Don't stop... I'm so close too."

You rubbed Vada's clit more insistently, feeling her body start to quake and quiver beneath you. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, spurring you on. Your hips moved more urgently, driven by the need to bring her to the edge.

"Yes, yes!" Vada gritted out, her voice breaking as her pleasure crested. "Don't stop, I'm... I'm gonna... ahhh!"

Her body went rigid, her back arching off the bed as she came undone. You felt her walls clench around you rhythmically, squeezing your length in pulsing waves. The sensation was too much, and with a strangled cry, you let go.

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your body shaking as you spilled yourself into the condom. You collapsed on top of Vada, both of you panting and covered in sweat. You lay there for a long moment, basking in the afterglow of your first time.

“Wait.. your family— do you think they heard?”

-

The next morning, you both stumbled into the kitchen, feeling exhausted but incredibly satisfied. Vada was still in just a t-shirt and panties, while you had thrown on the first clothes you could find - her oversized band shirt and a pair of pajama shorts.

Patricia looked up from the stove where she was making breakfast, her eyes widening slightly as she took in your disheveled appearances. But instead of scolding you, she just smiled knowingly.

"Good morning, you two," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Did you both sleep well?"

Vada blushed, busying herself with getting out plates and utensils. "Uh, yeah, it was fine," she muttered, avoiding her mother's gaze.

As you and Vada sat down at the kitchen table, Amelia looked up from her phone and grinned at her mother. "Hey Mom," she said, a smug smile on her face. "Remember that bet we made? About Vada and her... friend?" She nodded towards you, her grin widening.

Patricia chuckled, setting a plate of pancakes in front of each of you. "Oh, I remember," she said, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Looks like you won that one, Amelia."

Amelia smirked proudly, holding out her hand expectantly towards her mother. "So, you'll give me the $5 now, right?"

Vada blushed even harder, burying her face in her hands. "Oh my god," she muttered, mortified that her little sister was rubbing her victory in all of our faces.

Patricia reached for her wallet and pulled out a crisp $5 bill, placing it in Amelia's eagerly waiting hand. Amelia snatched it up triumphantly, waving it in Vada's face.

"Thanks, Mom!" Amelia crowed, unable to wipe the grin off her face. "I knew it! I told you guys you were totally together."

You frowned in confusion, wondering how on earth Amelia and Patricia had figured out about you and Vada being together. Vada seemed just as perplexed and embarrassed by the revelation.

Patricia chuckled, a playful smirk on her lips as she watched your bewildered expressions. "Oh, come on," she said, rolling her eyes. "You two weren't exactly quiet last night."

Vada's face turned bright red, and she buried her burning cheeks in her hands. "Oh my god," she muttered, mortified. "Mom, seriously?!"

Patricia just laughed, shaking her head. "Well, it's not every day I have to hear my daughter and her girlfriend making love for the first time," she pointed out, a hint of amusement in her voice. "I mean, I'm glad you two had fun, but maybe try to keep it down a little next time, hmm?"

Amelia snorted, clearly delighted by Vada's embarrassment. "Wow, gross," she said, making a face. "I don't need to know about your sex life, Vada."

You quickly tried to change the subject, desperate to get the spotlight off of you and Vada's new relationship. "S-So, uh... what's the weather like out there today?"

—

REQUEST: i looooove your writing! would ever be open to doing a g!p reader x vada cavell, where it's both of their first times and they are cute and awkward together? maybe even the morning after they get discovered by parents/guardians and there's a cute morning scene? idk i think i'm just craving sweet happy sex. p.s. i think you're really cool

(thank you btw)

[siciliana123]

make a mess, lioness

PAIRING - tara x g!p!reader (req) | WC - 3k

WARNINGS - smut. some oral sex (r receiving), orgasm denial, p in v, tara is a power bottom

A/N - i stayed up until 5am to finish this ☹️ questioning my life choices— but at least finished it before friday. yay.

You’re trying so damn hard to focus on the game, but Tara isn’t making it easy.

Her fingers brush over your thigh, light and teasing, barely there. “You always get this tense when I touch you?” she muses, her voice dipped in amusement.

You clear your throat, eyes fixed on the screen. “I’m trying to concentrate, Tara.”

“Uh-huh.” She doesn’t sound convinced. Instead, she shifts closer, pressing against your side, her breath warm against your neck. “You’re really bad at pretending this isn’t getting to you.”

Your grip on the Switch tightens. “You’re annoying.”

Tara just hums, sliding her hand up a little higher. “And yet… here you are, rock solid.”

You nearly choke. “Tara.”

She grins, smug as hell. “Yes?”

Before you can even think of a response, the bedroom door swings open.

“Jesus Christ—” Sam’s voice fills the room. “Do you two ever stop?”

Tara doesn’t move an inch. She just tilts her head, throwing her sister a look that’s far too innocent. “We’re literally just sitting here.”

Sam’s eyes narrow. “Yeah, right.”

You quickly hit pause, setting the Switch aside. Because let’s be real—Tara isn’t stopping anytime soon.

As soon as Sam walks out, you turn to Tara with a deadpan look. “For the record, I’m not even rock solid.”

Tara barely holds back a laugh, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh?” She leans in closer, fingers dancing up your arm. “Rock soft, then?”

You sigh. “Flaccid as hell.”

She snorts, finally breaking into laughter. “Damn. That bad, huh?”

“Tragic, really.” You shake your head, feigning disappointment. “You should work on your technique.”

Tara gasps, shoving you playfully. “Excuse me?”

You grin, picking your Switch back up. “Just saying.”

Tara huffs, crossing her arms. “Alright. Challenge accepted.”

You try to keep your focus on the game, but Tara isn't having it. In one smooth motion, she pulls the Switch right out of your hands and tosses it onto the bed. Before you can even protest, she's straddling your lap, knees bracketing your thighs, hands coming up to rest on your shoulders.

"I think you're distracted enough," she declares, a wicked grin spreading across her face. Her eyes are dark, almost black in the dim light of the TV, and her cheeks are flushed a soft pink.

"Tara..." you warn, but your voice comes out softer than intended. Your hands come up to rest on her waist, thumbs brushing the bare skin beneath her tank top. She's so warm, so soft.

Tara leans in closer, until her forehead is resting against yours, until you can feel the whisper of her breath against your lips. "What are you afraid of?" she murmurs, her voice low and teasing. "That I might actually make you feel something?" Her fingers dance along your collarbone, tracing the line of your jaw, the curve of your ear.

You swallow hard, trying to ignore the way your heart is pounding against your ribs, the way your skin feels too tight and too hot. "I'm not afraid of anything," you say, but it sounds like a lie, even to your own ears.

Tara just smiles, a slow curve of her lips that's somehow both innocent and wicked all at once. "Good," she whispers, and then she's pressing her mouth to yours, and you can't think of anything at all.

Tara grins against your lips, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. She nips at your bottom lip, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to send a jolt of electricity through you. Her fingers tangle in your hair, nails scraping lightly against your scalp as she tilts your head back, deepening the kiss.

She takes her time, exploring your mouth like she's trying to memorize every inch of it. Her tongue traces the curve of your lips, the hard edge of your teeth, the soft cushion of your tongue.

When she finally pulls back, you're both breathing a little harder, your chests heaving against each other. She leans in close, her lips brushing your ear as she whispers, "I can feel how much you want this, how much you want me. Don't try to deny it."

Her hand drifts down your chest, fingers splaying over your stomach, your ribs. She traces the lines of your muscles, the dips and curves of your body. Her touch is electric, setting your skin ablaze, making you ache for more.

"But I want to hear you say it," she murmurs, her voice a low purr in your ear. "I want to hear you beg for it, beg for me."

She rocks her hips against yours, a slow, deliberate grind that has you gritting your teeth, your fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs. She's not even trying to hide how much she wants this, how much she wants you. And fuck, the way she's looking at you, like she wants to devour you whole... it's enough to make you forget your own name.

Tara grins wickedly as she feels you start to respond, your growing hardness pressing insistently against her core. She grinds down harder, relishing the way you gasp and tense beneath her. "There it is," she purrs, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "I knew you couldn't resist forever."

She leans back slightly, looking down at you with a smug, triumphant smile. Her fingers dance along your chest, toying with the hem of your shirt. "Come on, baby," she coaxes, her voice a low, teasing lilt. "Don't be shy. I want to hear that pretty mouth of yours begging for what it needs."

You try to hold out, to maintain some semblance of control, but Tara isn't making it easy. She rolls her hips in slow, deliberate circles, grinding down on your now fully hardened length. It's almost too much, the way she's touching you, teasing you, pushing you to the brink of desperation.

"Please..." you hear yourself whimper, hating the neediness in your own voice but unable to stop yourself. "Please, Tara..."

She hums, a sound of pure satisfaction, as she leans in closer. "Please what, baby?" she murmurs, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Tell me what you need. I want to hear you say it."

"Please, Tara..." you breathe out, your voice strained with need. "I need you. I need you so fucking much. Please, touch me... taste me... anything. Just please, don't make me wait anymore." The words spill out of you in a desperate rush, all thoughts of holding back forgotten. You're completely at her mercy now, ready and willing to beg for whatever she wants to give you.

As Tara moves off of you, you feel a pang of disappointment, of loss at the absence of her warmth and weight in your lap. But that feeling quickly turns to awe and desire as she starts to undress.

She pulls her tank top up and over her head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. She's not wearing a bra underneath, and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of her bare breasts. They're perfect, and you can't look away as she reaches for the button of her shorts.

Slowly, teasingly, she pops the button and drags the zipper down, revealing a sliver of skin inch by tantalizing inch. She hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts and her panties, and with a wicked little grin thrown your way, she tugs them down and steps out of them, leaving her completely bare.

Your mouth goes dry, your heart pounding against your ribs as you take in every inch of exposed skin, every curve and line of her body. She's stunning, a work of art, and the sight of her standing there, unashamed and unapologetic in her nudity, makes your cock throb almost painfully against the confines of your jeans.

As Tara crawls back onto the bed, your pulse races. She kneels between your spread legs, her bare skin brushing against your jeans-clad thighs, sending sparks of electricity shooting up your spine. Your breath catches as she reaches for your fly, her fingers undoing the button and dragging down the zipper with a low, deliberate hiss.

She doesn't say a word, but her eyes speak volumes as they meet yours, dark and smoldering with lust. She hooks her fingers into the waistband of your jeans and your boxers, and you lift your hips instinctively, allowing her to tug them down and off. The cool air hits your heated skin, and you hiss at the contrast, your cock springing free, hard and aching and already leaking at the tip.

Tara wraps her hand around the base of your shaft, stroking it once, twice, before slapping the swollen head against her tongue, smearing the bead of precum that's already leaked from the tip. The sensation is electric, sending a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine, and you can't help but groan at the feeling of her wet, warm muscle against you.

She holds your gaze as she does it again, and then again, each slap of your cock against her tongue sending waves of heat coursing through you. She's looking at you with pure, unadulterated desire, her eyes hooded and dark, her cheeks flushed a deep, rosy pink. She's enjoying this, enjoying the power she has over you, the way she can reduce you to a needy, desperate mess with just a touch and a look.

She parts her lips, her tongue darting out to lick a slow, teasing stripe up the underside of your shaft, from base to tip. She swirls her tongue around the head, lapping up the precum that's leaking steadily now, before taking you into her mouth, just the tip at first, her lips sealing around you like a tight, wet heat. 

She suckles gently, her cheeks hollowing as she takes you deeper, inch by inch, until you feel the head of your cock hitting the back of her throat. She holds you there for a moment, her throat constricting around you, before pulling back and starting all over again, driving you closer and closer to the edge with every second.

Tara takes you deep, her nose pressing against your pelvis as she swallows around your length, her throat a tight, rippling heat. She holds you there, keeping you suspended on the brink of ecstasy, refusing to let you tip over the edge. 

After long, agonizing moments, she pulls back, releasing your cock with a lewd pop. Before you can catch your breath, she's crawling up your body, straddling your hips, and grinding her bare, slick folds against your shaft.

“God….”

"Don't you dare come until I do," she warns, her voice a low, breathless rasp. She rocks against you, coating your length in her arousal, using it to slide herself along your cock with shameless abandon. "I want to feel you throbbing inside me when I let go. I want you to fill me up, baby. Can you do that for me?"

Tara moves off of you abruptly, leaving your aching cock throbbing and bare, slick with her saliva and arousal. Before you can protest the sudden loss of contact, she flips onto her back on the bed, spreading her legs wide. She's glistening, swollen and ready, her pink folds just begging to be filled. Tara crooks a finger at you, a wicked grin playing on her kiss-swollen lips.

"Come here," she purrs, her voice dripping with lust. "Fill me up like you promised, baby." She reaches down to spread herself open with her fingers, revealing the tight, clenching entrance of her pussy. "Hurry up and give it to me."

You move over Tara with a whimper that turns into a low, almost feral growl as you settle between her spread thighs. You line yourself up with her entrance, the head of your cock nudging against her slick, swollen folds, and with one hard thrust, you bury yourself inside her to the hilt.

Tara lets out a small cry, her back arching off the bed as you fill her completely. She's so tight, so hot and slick and perfect, her walls clenching down around you like some sort of trap. You have to grit your teeth and dig your fingers into the sheets to keep from coming right then and there.

"Fuck, yes," Tara hisses, her nails raking down your back, leaving red lines in their wake.

Tara's hands move to your ass, gripping the firm globes tightly as she guides your movements. She urges you on, pulling you harder and deeper into her with each powerful thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixing with both you and Tara's moans.

"Yes, just like that," she pants, her hips rolling to meet yours, taking you impossibly deep. "Harder, baby. Fuck me harder." Her nails dig into your ass, no doubt leaving crescent-shaped indents in your skin, marking you as hers.

You comply, pouring all of your pent-up desire and lust into each forceful, driving thrust. The bed creaks and shakes beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall as you lose yourself in the heat and tightness of Tara's body. She's like a drug, and you're addicted, craving more and more of her with each passing second.

After a while, you feel your release approaching, your hips starting to move erratically as you near the edge. A desperate whine escapes your lips, your fingers scrabbling at the sheets as you try to hold back, to delay the inevitable.

"Please..." you beg, your voice strained and high-pitched. "Tara, I can't... I'm going to..."

"No," she snaps, cutting off your pleas. She squeezes her legs around your waist, holding you deep inside her as she grinds her hips against yours, chasing her own pleasure. "Not until I do. Don't you dare come before me."

She's ruthless, focused solely on her own climax, using your body to bring herself closer and closer to the brink. Her walls flutter and clench around you, and you know she's getting close, but she refuses to let you find your own release until she's satisfied.

You grit your teeth, trying desperately to hold back, to keep yourself from falling over the edge. Your hips jerk and stutter, your thrusts becoming sloppy and uneven as you fight to keep control. Lewd, choked sounds spill from your throat - whimpers, whines, and groans as you struggle to do as Tara demands.

"Please..." you pant, sweat dripping down your face and back as you continue to move over her. "Tara, I can't... I'm trying... but you feel so good..."

She just shakes her head, her eyes squeezing shut as she loses herself in the sensation of your body against hers, your length stirring her insides. She's close, so close.

"Touch me," Tara demands, her voice urgent and breathless. "Rub my clit, baby. Make me come."

She reaches down and pulls your hand up between her legs, pressing your fingers against her swollen, throbbing clit. It's slick and hot, and slick with her arousal. She rubs your fingers against it in tight, quick circles, her hips bucking up into your touch.

"Don't stop," she pants, her eyes squeezing shut as she grinds herself against your hand, against your still-throbbing cock buried deep inside her. "Keep going, just like that. Fuck, I'm so close..."

"Please, Tara," you beg, your voice cracking with desperation. Your hips jerk and stutter, your length pulsing and throbbing inside her as you struggle to hold back your impending release. "Please, I need to come. I can't... I can't hold back anymore."

Tara just shakes her head, gritting her teeth as she grinds herself against your hand, chasing her own pleasure. "Not yet," she grits out, her voice strained. "Don't you dare come until I do. I'm so fucking close, baby. Just a little more, please..."

With a sharp cry, Tara's body goes rigid, her back arching off the bed as her climax crashes over her. Her inner walls clench down around you like a vice, rippling and pulsing as wave after wave of pleasure consumes her.

"Fuck, yes!" she groans, her fingers digging into your wrist, holding your hand firmly against her spasming sex. Her hips jerk and shudder, grinding herself against you, prolonging her intense orgasm.

"Come," Tara demands breathlessly, her voice ringing in your ears as she rides out the aftershocks of her intense climax. "Come inside me, baby. Now."

With Tara's permission and the feeling of her still fluttering walls, you finally let go. Your hips jerk forward one last time as your orgasm overtakes you, your length pulsing and throbbing as you empty yourself deep inside her. You groan long and low, your body shaking with the force of your release.

"Fuck, Tara!" you grunt, your vision going white as sparks of pleasure burst behind your eyelids. Your cock twitches and jerks inside her as you fill her up, just like she demanded, your hot seed painting her walls.

You collapse on top of Tara, both of you panting and trembling in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking. Your softening length remains nestled inside her, plugging her up, as the last spurts of your release dribble out. Tara wraps her arms around you, holding you close, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your sweat-slicked back.

"That was... incredible," she murmurs, her voice still breathless and sated. She tilts her head up to press a soft, languid kiss to your jaw. "You did so good, baby. I'm so proud of you for holding out until I was ready."

After a few moments of basking in the afterglow, you carefully pull out of Tara, both of you wincing slightly at the sensation. You collapse onto the bed next to her, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Tara rolls onto her side, curling up against you, her head pillowed on your chest.

You reach for your Switch, picking it up and turning it back on. The game loads, the characters frozen on the screen in the exact moment Tara interrupted your gaming session. You glance down at her, taking in her satisfied, contented smile and the flush still dusting her cheeks.

Tara looks up at you curiously as you fiddle with the Switch. "What are you doing, baby?" she asks, propping herself up on her elbow to get a better look.

"Just... getting back to the game," you mumble, pressing buttons and navigating menus. "I don't want to lose all my progress."

Tara rolls her eyes but can't help grinning. "Seriously? We just had mind-blowing sex and you're worried about some stupid game?"

“Mhm.”

[siciliana123]

I love our fandom and how fast it works 🙈

[siciliana123]

I'll never get over that joyful giggle.💔💖✨

[siciliana123]

Jenna Ortega as Remi in Winter Spring Summer or Fall. — Fall Parts 8 of 8

[siciliana123]

Someone mentioned their hands in @psychic-refugee 's post with this photo and I just had to see

*squeals like a little girl* SIZE DIFF 🩷✨

[siciliana123]

People need to leave Jenna's hands alone

[siciliana123]

Jenna Ortega as Lorraine X (2022) dir. Ti West

[siciliana123]

JENNA ORTEGA AND SABRINA CARPENTER IN THE TASTE MUSIC VIDEO 💋

— like/reblog if you use or save

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