#jenna’s got a face | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

surftrips · 3 months

Text

SHAPESHIFT | CLARISSE LA RUE

pairing: clarisse la rue x female!reader

summary: clarisse wonders if you know just how much she likes you.

word count: 2.1k

author's note: this is the first part of a two part series i'm writing based on jenna doe's songs: shapeshift + pink slips. this is from clarisse's pov and the second one is from readers' :) lmk if you want to be tagged in part 2 <3

i. i think you have a type, and it's not me

Clarisse has been watching you from the second you arrived at camp. Since you spent every day doing more or less the same thing, she was able to pick up on your routine pretty fast. Two sugars in your coffee every morning. A walk around the lake in the afternoon. Archery practice before the sunset.

She felt weird going to practices at the same time as you, but she couldn’t help herself. Whenever she got a chance to sneak away from her siblings in the Ares cabin, she always found herself back in your presence. However, the thought to approach you like a normal person had never crossed her mind. Clarisse is the kind of person that needs to be in control, and talking to you one-on-one would mean letting her inhibitions take over, so she always made sure to keep her distance.

Once or twice, Clarisse had seen you on dates with another camper. At first, she thought you were just having a picnic with the girl from Aphrodite, until the two of you began holding hands. The next day, Clarisse saw you in the other girl’s sweater, which made her so sick she avoided you for an entire week.

The Aphrodite girl (her name, Clarisse later found out, was Stacy) began showing up with you more often. Stacy wore bows in her hair and pearl necklaces, whereas Clarisse’s mascara was always smudged and accessories that didn’t double as weapons felt wrong on her. For the first time, Clarisse wondered why she couldn’t just be like all the other girls. Or at least, a girl you would pay attention to.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Clarisse tried to make her penchant for you as obvious as possible, while actively hiding it from the rest of camp. This proved to be difficult because at the same time, she also didn’t want to get too close to you because, well— what would she even say to you?

Her flirting consisted of winking at you during Capture the Flag or from across the dining hall. She had an ongoing list of nicknames of what to call you when no one else was around, but those moments were few and far between. Once, she even went as far as brushing away a stray piece of hair that had fallen on your face. There seemed to be nothing left for her to do except put bows in her hair or maybe paint her nails, and the thought of doing either of those things made her almost as sick as seeing you and Stacy together.

Between her and the Aphrodite girl, she knew which girl you would choose. Had chosen.

ii. mold me how you want me to be

Still, that was not going to stop Clarisse. She had never backed down from a fight before, and this was no different. Even if Stacy didn’t know it, she had become Clarisse’s number one enemy, even more so than that Percy Jackson kid that had recently shown up at camp. It just wasn’t fair that she had been watching you for so long and here comes Aphrodite’s daughter out of nowhere to sweep you off your feet.

Since Clarisse knew your routine by heart, she devised a plan to get you alone. She decided that she would finally make a move, and then you could pick for yourself who you wanted to be with. Easy enough, right?

At night, Clarisse lay awake in bed thinking about you, Stacy, then you and Stacy together. Though she didn’t want to go there, her brain wondered what the two of you were doing at that very moment. Her thoughts ranged from tame, to slightly more unhinged. Like, were you lying underneath the stars on your picnic blanket? Or was Stacy doing your makeup as she straddled your lap?

Clarisse didn’t pray often, but ever since she met you, she had taken to silently wishing you would acknowledge her. Each time she saw you with your arms wrapped around Stacy, she yearned to know what that would feel like. Not that she thought you would come near her with a ten-foot pole. Stacy is sweet, like bubblegum or strawberries from the fields, and Clarisse is the opposite. If you tasted her, she might make your gums bleed.

Before you, she was never the kind of girl to care about her appearance. Gods, she was the daughter of Ares, they weren’t known for their beauty but their strength and power and when it came to those categories, Clarisse knew that she had Stacy beat.

And yet, Clarisse would change just about anything about herself if it would make you like her more. In your hands, she would turn into putty, moldable clay to take the shape of your ideal lover. Hell, she would change her name if she thought you didn’t like the sound of it.

iii. kill anyone if you ask me to

A few weeks later, the Ares cabin and yours happened to be on the same team for Capture the Flag. It was the closest Clarisse had been to you ever since you began dating Stacy. The proximity to you was killing her, but she had to stay focused—on winning the game and your heart.

Putting aside her wandering thoughts, Clarisse barked out instructions to the campers. When she got to your cabin, she assigned you and your half-siblings to be the second line of defense for the flag. Clarisse figured this way, she could keep you out of harm’s way. Also, this was her one chance to talk to you without Stacy hanging off your body and she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass.

After the first conch blew, Clarisse went on high-alert mode. Her team had lost the last game to Luke and Annabeth’s team, but she was not going to accept defeat this time. Her eyes darted back and forth between blind spots in the forest and you and the flag.

As she absent-mindedly waved her new spear around, Clarisse heard soft footsteps behind her. She whipped her head around with her weapon aimed in the air, preparing to fight whoever had approached her.

“Shit, Y/N, you scared me.” It was just you. Wait– it was you.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to,” you responded, your hands in front of you.

Clarisse almost couldn’t believe her eyes. Did someone poison her earlier and she was hallucinating right now? Okay, keep it cool.

“Is something wrong?” Clarisse managed to ask after composing herself, realizing that you had moved away from your post.

“Uh, no. I- um… heard about what happened to your spear last week, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you smiled nervously.

“Why?”

“Why…. am I sorry?”

Clarisse wanted to slap her hand across her forehead. Why did she say that? She meant to ask why are you talking to me right now? What did I do to deserve this? But she didn’t know how to word that in a way that wouldn't make you think she was crazy.

When she didn’t respond, you began backing away. “Look, I’m sorry if this is a sensitive topic. I just felt bad, is all.”

“No!” Clarisse began panicking. “I didn’t mean it like that- just, why are you talking to me now? We’ve never had a real conversation before.”

“Does it matter?” She expected you to be confused, but the look at your face seemed more amused than anything.

“No, I guess not,” Clarisse couldn’t help but smile. Gods, why was she so awkward? Anyone else, she would’ve been perfectly fine, but in the last few minutes, her mouth had gone dry and her legs felt as though they would give out at any second.

“Great,” you beamed in return. Clarisse’s eyes catch yours and the two of you stare at each other in content for a minute. Or at least, you are. Clarisse is convinced an Aphrodite kid has changed her pupils to hearts. “I haven’t seen you around lately,” you broke the silence.

“What do you mean? I’m always around,” Clarisse stammered for an excuse.

“Well, sure. It’s a small camp.” You seemed to be enjoying seeing Clarisse fumble for words. “But I used to see you all the time. At breakfast and archery.”

Clarisse ignored the implications of your comment. “Oh, I guess we just started going at different times then. You know you’re always with Stacy now—”

At the mention of your girlfriend’s name, your face contorted into something strange and unfamiliar to Clarisse. But before she could figure it out, a noise behind you caused the two of you to turn around abruptly.

“Y/N, watch out!” Clarisse shouted at you, but it was too late. Someone had dragged you backwards, knocking your weapon out of your hand. You struggled to free yourself, but whoever was holding you had revealed a dagger and you didn’t want to risk accidentally cutting yourself.

“If you know what’s best for yourself, let her go.” Clarisse breathed furiously, pausing between the last three words in her sentence. You couldn’t see who was restraining you, but you could feel their heart rate quicken at the sight of Clarisse’s spear getting dangerously close.

“And what if I don’t?” they responded. You knew that they were just putting on a front, you could feel their chest heaving up and down on your back. Clarisse seemed to know this too, she’s always been able to sense fear in people— mostly because she is the one that invokes it.

“I don’t think you want to find out,” she grinned, a wicked smile on her face. The next second, her spear had jabbed into the camper’s side, causing them to let go of their hold on you. You dropped to the ground.

“Shit!” the camper swore, rubbing their ribcage. “You’re not supposed to actually hurt me!” You could see their face now, one of Hermes' kids you’ve seen hanging around Luke.

“Now, what’s the fun in that?” Clarisse laughed. “Besides, the spearhead is blunt. You’ll be fine, drama queen.”

The kid scrambled away, leaving behind the dagger they had previously threatened you with. Clarisse ran over, instinctively putting her hands on your face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.” You began to stand up, but Clarisse pushed you back down.

“Clar, come on, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Let me just get a look at you,” she insisted, ignoring the way your nickname for her made something in her stomach flip over. You relented, knowing it was useless to argue with her. You allow her to scan your body for any signs of harm. Clarisse took her time, unsure of when the next time she would be this close to you again. Most of your body was covered by your armor or clothes, so her eyes drifted toward your exposed arms and the area where the kid had touched you.

Hesitantly, she reached for the side of your stomach. “Are you sore? Did they leave a mark?”

“No, I don’t think so,” you shook your head, lifting up the hem of your shirt to see. You heard Clarisse’s breath hitch. “What? What’s wrong?” You were fully sat up now.

“N-nothing!” Color rushed into Clarisse’s cheeks, causing her to turn her head away suddenly.

You giggled, her reaction not going unnoticed. “Thanks for saving me, tough girl.”

“Of course.” Clarisse pulled you up on your feet. “Anything for you, pretty girl.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could register it. The two of you stared at each other again, it seemed as though eye contact was your main form of communication at the moment. And right now, Clarisse’s eyes were sparkling with something familiar, almost like how Stacy looks at you—

“Oh my god, babe! Are you okay?” Speaking of the devil, Clarisse rolled her eyes at the sight of your girlfriend running up.

“Stacy! How’d you know something was wrong?” You were pulled into a stifling hug, the air thick with floral perfume.

“Silly girl, I am the daughter of Aphrodite. I have a heightened sense for these things,” Stacy pulled her arms away and gave you a once-over, presumably to check for injuries, before smothering you with kisses.

Clarisse coughed, once, and then again a little louder. “Oh!” Stacy turned toward her. “Clarisse, I didn’t see you there.”

“I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for her,” you said, sensing Clarisse’s uneasiness.

Now, Stacy’s face contorted into something strange. Shamelessly, Clarisse took pride in being the cause of it.

“Well, thank you,” she responded tersely. “Come on, let’s get one of the Apollo kids to look at you.” Stacy pushed you away before you could protest. You offered Clarisse a weak smile before turning around.

Clarisse sighed, maybe if she had been a daughter of Aphrodite, she could shapeshift into someone you walked away with— not from.

That night, she prayed to Ares for the first time in months.

#WHERE ARE ALL MY SAPPHICS #WOMEN LOVERS #WARNING: YEARNING #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #percy jackson series #percy jackson #pjo #dior goodjohn #dior goodjohn x reader #clarisse la rue imagine #pjo x you #clarisse la rue x you

1K notes · View notes

jazzsonly · 1 month

Text

ʟᴏɴᴅᴏɴ.

paring(s): jenna ortega x g!p!reader

warning(s): smut, p in v, unprotected sex, mentions of past break up, mentions of drugs, smoking, drinking, cheating, sex in a bathroom, sex in front of an open window, no pronouns used for reader, uhh that’s it i think(?)

summary: you get invited to jenna’s engagement party a year after your break-up.

────────✬────────

the crisps sound of the cigarette burning crackled as your lips wrapped around it, taking a long drag you let the smoke ease through your nose before you threw the stick to the ground and stepped it on, twisting your heel to put the burn out.

nothing but a flickering street light mixed with the red light of the street light illuminated over you face, as the rain drizzled you stood on the empty sidewalk looking up at the new york apartment building, the white invitation, that you had ripped apart weeks ago, was now tapped together in your hand’s tight hold.

“excuse me?” you let out a faint ‘huh’, turning your head in the voice’s direction.

there stood an unfamiliar man clad in a dark suit.

“are you here for the engagement party? could you tell me which building it is? i’m little the lost.” he ended his words with a slight chuckle to ease the tension, clearly telling the mood you were in.

“yeah. i’m heading up there now, i’ll walk you up.” you offer, finally getting collected enough to even go in, in the first place.

the man smiles, stepping close and you both turn your heads to either side of the road before jogging across it.

1580.

from very fresh memory, you press code to access the apartment building’s front door.

“you live here?”

“nah. i know the person who does.” you offer in a sulking tone.

the man nods his head with his mouth in an ‘o’ shape. “you know jen?”

“how do you know her?”

“oh, uh, my girlfriend and her are really close so i got invited by association. my girlfriend is already here, i’m just running late from work.”

you nod, uninterested.

“how do you know jen?”

“who’s your girlfriend?” you ignore his question as you step into the elevator.

“emma. you don’t like answering questions do you?”

“jen and i used to date.” you shrug off pressing the number 4.

a face of realization came over the man, “you’re y/n?”

“and you are?” this elevator couldn’t be moving any slower.

“john.”

silence had fell over you two as the shaft came to a stop, you both stepped out at the same time, coming face to face with your’ destination.

music and chatter could be heard through the door that held a sign that read, ‘just come on in.’

“well, cheers. thanks for walking me up.” john offers a smile before disappearing into the direction of the kitchen.

you stay planted by the front door, scanning the place, there were a number of faces you recognized. co—stars of jenna and mutual friends of yours.

as you looked over the familiar apartment your eyes caught the big sign that hung from the ceiling, ‘congratulations to jenna and ari!’ in a fancy golden fond with glitter around it.

i need a drink. the thought waved over you and immediately your feet moved to towards the kitchen as did john.

to your good fortune the kitchen was empty.

scanning over the choices of refreshments, you skipped over the soda and water, going right the alcohol where you would find patron to occupy your grievances.

“y/n? hey!”

a mouthed ‘fuck’ followed with the roll of your eyes before you turn to face jenna’s co—star and your mutual friend, mason.

“hey, mas! long time no see.” you face excited as you let the man pull you into a ‘bro’ hug.

“i know, it’s been like a month since we last linked up.”

you nod, taking a big sip from the red solo cup. “ah, you know, busy, busy, busy.”

you catch the way he nods his head awkward, knowing you’d barely talked to any of the friends you shared with jenna since the split.

“you working on anything new?”

“yeah, i just booked this dc movie. i start directing in a few weeks.”

“that’s great! i’m glad to see you here...”

you wanted to crawl into a hole in die.

“it’s good you and jenna are on good terms after everything. you two create magic together, romantic or not.” he reaches and pants your shoulder in support.

“but i gotta get back to dylan and ethan, you should come say hi later, yeah?”

“sounds like a plan.” a plastic smile flashed from you, immediately dropping when the boy walked away.

safe to say you needed more than just a drink now but a cigarette.

downing what little was left in the cup, you easily made yourself up the stairs that led to the bathroom which held three stalls and an open window, only two girls stood by the mirror doing what seemed to be gossiping. you flash a smile, making your way over to the window where you lit another malboro.

i can’t believe she’s getting married.

all your thoughts seemed to be consumed with the same six words. to be truthful, it was justified because how you could you come to terms with your ex-girlfriend of six years, that you were very much not over getting married just as year after your split.

a deep inhale consumes you as you thoughts wash over you, your eyes counting the city view.

where did it all go wrong?

“you showed up.”

your eyes flutter at the voice, immediately you hit the cigarette.

jenna.

“of course i made it. wouldn’t wanna miss your big day.” you turn, you body language filled with as much sarcasm as your voice.

you take in her body, she looked the same if not better a year later. well, better than the pictures you found while instagram and media stalking her.

“you could’ve said hi, you know? but knowing you, you probably would’ve disappeared after your cigarette.” she gestures to the stick that sat between your pointer and middle.

your head tilts as you smirk a smile, eyes going to the stick and back to jen. “join me?”

wordlessly the woman steps forward, her eyes never leaving yours she attempts to grab the cigarette but swiftly, you pull back, nodding your head ‘no’ before bringing your hand up to her lips, letting her inhale.

“you been standing in the rain? you’re all wet.”

looking back out the window, “i was contemplating if i even wanted to come in or not. let my sorrow consume me far away from you or right in front of you.”

“always been a battle of yours, huh?”

wordlessly, you reach forward, throwing the lit object from the window.

“when did you meet your finance?” you inquire, a small smirk coming over your face to which jenna rolls her eyes at.

“6–8 months after we split.”

you scoff, “you move on quick, and i think you mean after you left. we didn’t split. you made that choice.”

she squints, stopping to study you for a moment.

“i didn’t leave. the relationship was toxic and you knew it. you knew then, and you know it now but your pride would let you accept it.”

“just because we were in love doesn’t mean we were right for each other, y/n.”

dramatically you throw your hands up, letting them harshly fall back down to your side.

“so, what? we argued? who doesn’t? that doesn’t mean our relationship was this big tumultuous thing, jenna!”

“look at us, we’re not even together, i’m engaged and somehow we are still arguing. we should’ve never gotten together, i should’ve never mixed business with pleasure.”

it was true, you and jenna started off as co-workers.

you, being a quite known director had landed one of the many positions on ‘wednesday’, a job you’d had been quite a fan of considering you’d previously had a hugeee crush on jenna as she rose to ‘it girl’ status in the film world.

not to mention, ‘addams family’ was one of your favs growing up.

essentially, after the first two to three weeks of filming you and jenna really started to form a closeness. you’d started a traditions where at least one person on set gets pranked every wednesday and jenna, being who she was, just loved this.

wanting to get in on the pranking action, she sparked up conversation with you which formed into you visiting her trailer to plan your next to prank, which then turned into you asking her out.

from there, your relationship spouted.

at the start you guys held a pretty content relationship with each other, bickering placed between you two at times but nothing too serious to break up—well, until your first real argument a year in.

you had gotten another job after the first season of wednesday aired, directing for marvel’s new show ‘hawkeye.’

normally after the first day of filming is done, the cast goes out to a dinner to celebrate, unfortunately for everyone paparazzi got a tip of one of the stars of the show, haliee steinfeld, was out to dinner so of course they showed up. in the mix of every thing a few pics of you and haliee were snapped, which caused dating rumors.

let’s just say, when you got home jenna was not happy with you. the situation even causing you two to split up, for a week, but still it was a split up.

over all, your and jenna weren’t ones to agree on the bigger things which caused you ‘break up’ in the long term of your six year relationship and somewhere along the lines it became too much for the young actress as she already had enough to stress over with fame so she called it quits, leaving you to self-destruct with drinking, smoking, drugs, and partying.

in the mix of your wicked lonesome you’d always thought somewhere, somehow you and jenna would end up on the same street at the same time but just a month ago did you receive an invitation to her engagement party.

“if you feel that way, why’d you even invite me? i believe one of the last things you said to me was about how you never wanted to see me again.”

she leans back like she’s shocked by your words.

“our relationship might have been a mess but we spent six years together, i learned a lot from you and us in those six years. you’ll always be special to me, y/n, that’s why i want you here.”

“six years gone is just a couple of months.” you grit, turning to walk away in a haste but failing as the woman grabs to your wrist.

she pulls you toward her, a little to close if you ask anyone else, especially her fiancé.

“don’t walk away from me, y/n! i know it hurts but can you just be here for me? can you just be happy for me?”

“do you even love her?”

“of course i do, i wouldn’t marry someone i didn’t love.” her hand was still firmly around your wrist.

“ok, so,” a bitter chuckle falls from your lips. “are you in love with her?”

you could see jenna’s tongue roll around in her mouth in distaste as she turned her head to the side and back up to you.

“why are you asking me all this? all i did was ask you to be here for me.”

again, you let a bitter chuckle slip past your lips. “you’re not even in love with the girl and you’re gonna marry her.”

“i never said tha—”

“you didn’t have to. i know you, jenna—i mean, come on we dated for six years, you’re gonna have to do better at lying than thi—”

“i’m not lying!” she defended, finally pulling her touch away.

“yes you are.” you couldn’t be more amused in this moment than you had the past year.

“you know what, i’m not doing this. don’t stay. i don’t care.”

this time jenna is the one to try to walk away but you grip her wrist the same she had done yours, pulling her back to you but this time even closer, your bodies together.

“kiss me.” it came out softer than you intended, almost like a whisper but raspy and firm.

“i—i can’t. i can’t do this with you.” she attempts to pull away but your arms wrap around her waist, keeping her in place.

you lean down, only getting the chance to brush your lips over her’s as she quickly turns her head to the side, fighting any and all temptation.

wordlessly, you let your lips connect with her cheek and gracefully move down to her jaw before lifting your head to stare back to the woman you were so familiarly enamored with.

“jenna, kiss me.” you grip the sides of her face, pulling her in, to which she definitely no longer fought from by the way she kissed you back, seemingly even more in need of it than you.

you could taste the cigarette from each other’s lips, her breath mixed with cherry and your’s with the drink you had, had earlier.

mindless thoughts flew through your head in the moment, your body so heated with final desire it melted to the inside of you. while, jenna’s filled with so many thoughts she could probably explode from them in this moment.

she knew she shouldn’t be doing this and not just because she were with someone else but because your relationship would bring nothing but chaos of heartache, but damn she loved you.

she were in love with you, even after all this time. even after being with someone else, let alone engaged to them.

nothing compared to then taste of your lips that were firmly, but sloppily moving against her’s with haste in these very seconds. or the way your hands traveled across her, up from her waist down to her ass, which you gripped harshly in a wanting manner.

alone in the bathroom, only your pants of eager desire could be heard. shamelessly all over each other, just inches from the big open window for the world to see.

quickly but surely, you flip jenna’s body, her hands immediately holding onto to that window as you hike her black dress up before impatiently undoing the strings on your sweatpants that you let drop to your ankles, along with your boxers.

you harden cock sprung free, hollowly brushing against her ass.

“i missed you so much.” you wish in her ear before kissing it.

“arch a little more for me.” your tone was soft spoken with desire.

with your left hand pressed against her lower back you use your right to align yourself before slowly sliding in, letting a groan fall from your lips and your head throw back. you couldn’t believe what was happening after such a long time.

neither could jenna believe her actions but as tempting as you were it was bound to happen. her head pressed against the window as her eyes closed in fancy, mouth firmly open with pretty moans to fall from them.

your hands gripped her waist, fingers digging into her sides as your hips move in a back and forth motion, going in and out of her while your eyes watched the sight in awe.

“tell me you love me.” you demand.

“i love you.” she easily complies.

“again.”

“i love you.”

“again.”

“i love you.”

“fuckkkkk.” you draw out, moving with more pace.

“i love you too.” you words were as just as much fire to jenna as her’s were to you.

you enflamed her in way you were half clueless to but could definitely feel by the way she pushed back trying to get you impossibly deeper and closer.

“fuck, baby. if you keep doing that i’m gonna cum.” your head flies back in pleasure.

gaining a smidge of strength in the mix of your motions, jenna pushes off the window into you.

“i’m gonna cum too. i wanna cum with you.”

“keep going.” you utter, moving impossibly faster as you feel the build up in your body set to release, assuming jenna felt the same by the way she clenches around you.

“kiss me, kiss me.” you order, leaning down to meet the girl’s lips.

you moved your motions a few more times before feeling jenna’s juices gush over you.

you followed shortly behind, letting everything go inside of her.

there was moments of silence before jenna was the one to pull away from your embrace, fixing her now soaked underwear and pulling down her dress.

a content smirk filled your face as you collected yourself.

“you—”

“jen? jenna?” any cocky remark you had to say was put on hold by what seemed to be jasmin’s voice, a co—star of jenna’s and good friend of the both of you.

as the woman came through the door, she paused, eyeing the distraught state between the both of you.

“ari is about to do the toast, hurry out.” was all she could manage before exiting the same way she had came.

this would definitely be the topic of discussion later. jenna thought as she moved over to the mirror to check her semi-messed up makeup.

“i’ll be on my way out. come over later when you’re done breaking the news to ari.”

━━━ 👩🏽‍💻

697 notes · View notes

wesstars · 7 months

Text

touch

jenna ortega x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: jenna, your lovely girlfriend, has been away filming for far too long, in your opinion. she thinks so, too. wc: 2.6k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI. all characters are 18+. phone sex, masturbation, bad dirty talk lmao, this is basically all bad dirty talk, light D/s dynamics, name calling/slight degradation, praise, reader is a soft dom, strap-on referred to as “cock,” horribly excessive use of italics, feels a bit odd writing rpf… a/n: @crazyoffher :) returning the favor!

masterlist

6:01 pm

call u in a sec?

A grin lighting up your face at the text, you hurriedly type an affirmative reply as you unlock your apartment door. Dropping your bag, you kick your shoes off, sighing as you shed your coat. Making a beeline for your bedroom, your eyes slide shut as you flop down on your gigantic bed. You’d washed the sheets earlier, and they were feeling extra soft. If Jenna were here, she’d be rolling around in them, covering her own scent with one of fresh linen.

Usually, she was—you were lounging in your shared apartment, a wide open space near the top of a sleek, tall building. Every evening in LA, the two of you could be found here, the appeal of a night in far exceeding that of a night out. A bottle of wine and a packet of popcorn to share wasn’t rare either, the expensive drink wasted on you two young lovers.

Everything had happened so quickly, but you loved it. A chance meeting on a plane had led to a long conversation about anything and everything, so common for new couples, and one-drink dates across busy nights had culminated into a fateful party invitation and an equally fateful blushing confession. Your relationship was wild, and crazy, and everything you could’ve wanted. A year later, Jenna had surprised you with a set of keys. It was a certain kind of promise that made those long nights, waiting for a phone call from half a world away, so worth it.

As if on cue, your phone buzzes in your pocket. Seeing the ID, you instantly pick up.

“Jenna?”

“Hey,” her familiar voice comes shyly through the speaker, a comforting sound. “Are you busy?”

“No, I just got home from work.”

Jenna hums in a way that tells you she’s plotting something, and her little stifled giggle just confirms your suspicions. You fake a sigh, happy to venture into her ploy.

“Jenna, did you have something to drink?”

“No.” She huffs a laugh. “I just miss you. Tired of me already?” She asks, with innocent veneer.

“Of course not,” you say. “It’s good to hear from you, you're so busy now, I had to talk to your secretary,” you teased. She was busy, but you’d already done the calculation of Jenna’s timezone to yours—for her, filming would’ve just wrapped up in the midnight hours. For you, the setting sun was just beginning to stream through the glass walls, and you pressed the button on the nightstand to draw the curtains.

“Well, if you’re not busy,” Jenna presses on casually, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Jenna,” you smile. It was a dialogue you two had often, something you never tired of.

“Mmm,” Jenna’s voice tugs in your stomach, lilting into a whine at the end of her emission, “I miss you, baby.”

Your mouth goes dry; it’s an automatic reaction. Damnit, this girl—she knew what kind of effect she had on you. You were glad the room was dark, because if you had to face your own blushing cheeks in the light, you might’ve just collapsed. You pull the phone away from your ear long enough to take a deep breath. “Do you, Jen?” Keeping your voice composed, you roll the end of the duvet between your fingers to keep you grounded.

“Miss you so much,” she says, the rustling in the background telling you she’s rolling on the covers. She lets out a lilting laugh, the sound sending a swooping, giddy feeling into your stomach. Jenna’s trying to lure you in; it was her game: enticing you with that docile, persuasive tone.

You decided to play, though you held back just a bit. “How much?”

“Some of your clothes still smell like you,” she says in lieu of a direct answer. “So I’m wearing your big shirt, the black one.” You’d been wondering where that shirt went, one you often slept in. Even now, you can see in your head how Jenna looked when she stole that shirt: it cut off at her thighs, the kind of sacrilegious short that inspired crimes. It reminds you of countless times she’d surprised you, when you slid your hands up under the hem to find—

“What else, Jen?”

“No bra,” she replies sweetly, laughing lightly at the end.

“No bra, huh,” you repeat. You can practically feel your pupils dilating, the heat around your collar. “Good.”

“And this,” Jenna sighs, “lace number I got here; it looks like the one you gave me last year.”

Your jaw clenches, and you glance at the clock, looking but not seeing. You remember what she’s talking about—a pair of panties, an expensive little excuse for fabric that grew dark at the slightest moisture. Jenna’s birthday had ended in a long, long night.

“It’s red,” she says, “just like my nails.”

Fuck. Everything feels hot, and you can just picture her in that standard issue trailer, lights dimmed, alone in a way that should be illegal. “How much time do you have?”

“Not a lot… got an early morning tomorrow.” There's a trailing edge of disappointment in her voice, but you’re familiar with her—she’s looking, hoping for you to guide her, to push her in the way only you know how.

You breathe in, deeply, your own desire quickly falling prey to Jenna’s. She had you wrapped around her little finger, that’s for sure, but she trusted you to hold her down. “Hand in your hair, Jenna. Gentle,” you instruct.

You hear her sharp inhale, but you have no question that she’ll listen. When Jenna gets like this, playful but pliant, you know she’s willing to go with just about anything you ask. It’s torture for you, each second you wait. “Now pull.”

Her responding whimper sends a bolt of heat down your neck, and you let out a silent breath. Jenna loved it when you would touch her hair, even when it was as innocent as just braiding it. The haze in her eyes when you’d tug on her locks, telling her how good she feels, was your favorite. “Harder. Do you like it?”

She breathes out, “yeah.”

“Good,” you say. “Tell me what’s been on your mind to get you eager like this.” She’s shy, you hear it in her sigh, even though her hands are still running in her hair. “C’mon.”

“I miss your mouth on my neck.” The words tumble out of her almost immediately, and you dare to wonder if that’s been on her mind all day. The bruises you’d left there before filming started were long gone, no doubt. She’d begged you to make them darker, and you were all too happy to please. “I miss the car, before the airport…”

Those frantic, heated ten minutes you two were able to spare in the car before Jenna’s flight were chastised by her manager and makeup team, but you wouldn’t have traded them for anything. “That’s perfect Jen,” you coax gently. She liked your encouragement, you knew.

“And…” it’s as if something snaps in the air on the telephone line, pushing both you and Jenna’s inhibitions to the ground. “I wish you were here,” she whispers, the cliche line sending equally cliche butterflies rushing through your lower stomach. “I’d be on my knees for your cock right now, and you’d pull my hair, so I’d-” she whines, a small and breathless noise-“suck it so good ‘cause I know where it’s going next—”

“Fingers in your mouth,” you interrupt, blood rushing in your ears. “And listen to me.” If you’d let Jenna keep going, you might’ve just booked a plane ticket right then and there. You can hear her obey you through the speaker, moaning softly. “Play with your nipples under your shirt. Be gentle.” It’s a warning, you know she knows, and a reminder that you control her pace.

“Mmm,” she hums, complying. It’s practically confession on bended knee, how her muffled whimper makes something shoot through your lower stomach.

“Press down on your tongue.” You hear her breath shaking, right in your ear. It makes you bite your tongue to keep from moaning out loud. “Don’t gag, don’t be greedy, Jenna.” She whines around her fingers, and you know her telltale little cry as she touches herself as instructed. You can hear that she’s not being as gentle as you wanted, but you had always been weak for your girl.

“You wanna put on a show for me, honey? Twist.” You wouldn’t know it, but Jenna instantly closes her eyes at the word show, her pulse spiking.

Jenna’s uneven breaths are pure song to you through the speaker, and it puts your every nerve on edge, remembering how she would sprawl on your sheets, just like how you were now, happy to be over or under you. She’s so vocal tonight, every exhale coming out with a small oh, and it makes you wonder if it’s because of something more than just the distance and time between you two.

The cadence of her breathing matches your stuttering heart. “For someone that likes having her mouth stuffed,” you mutter, “you sure wanna talk real bad.”

The whimper Jenna lets out is enough of an answer.

“Alright babydoll, you can take your fingers out.” Almost immediately, you can hear her panting. You keep your voice even, despite the heat on your cheeks. “I bet you’re soaked, aren’t you?”

Her voice is raspy when she speaks. “I am…”

“Two fingers in your cunt.”

“What about-” you can hear her swallow- “what about my underwear?”

“Push it to the side,” you say, dismissive. You could practically see Jenna like this, warm brown hair splayed on the pillows, shirt rucked up to her breasts, with enough want to end a war.

It’s silent on the other side of the line, save for the shallow breaths you hear her taking. “Are you waiting, good girl?”

She hums an affirmative.

“Go ahead, I won’t make you beg right now,” you say with a nonchalance you absolutely do not have, “fuck yourself.”

Her breathy laugh in response would drive a saint to sin, and she’s only all too eager to comply. Jenna’s shudder comes out in her moan as she shoves two fingers in herself, shameless in her need.

You close your eyes, her quiet little moan telling you all you need to know. The impatient groan she gives you is just vulnerable enough to be desperate, and it makes your head swim.

Jenna’s voice is small. “You know…”

“What is it, darling?”

“Wish I could put this on a camera for you, baby,” she whines, breath hitching. “Wish you could watch me right now.”

The mere thought of it is enough to have you biting your lip, hard enough to bleed. With the way that Jenna loved to perform, the idea had occurred to you before, but you were always too hesitant to bring it up. “You want me to see you, don’t you? Blushing and wanting all by yourself,” you mock, your arousal overriding your rationality, “you need someone to fuck you, is that it?”

“I need you to fuck me, fuck me so hard that I don’t remember it all, and,” her voice breaks, “you’ll make me watch our video later, to make me like this again.” You close your eyes again, your knuckles growing white around the sheets fisted in your hand.

“Like what, Jenna?”

“Messy, and-” her voice climbs higher with a gasp-“needy.”

The words cling in your mind, ivy on a terrace. It only takes half a moment for your mind to conjure her up again, flushed cheeks and two fingers deep in her pussy, framed by red lace.

“Is that what you are, mmm?”

She gives a moan, and you laugh because she’s embarrassed. It’s nearly pathetic, how bad you wish you could see Jenna’s face.

“Want…” There’s a hesitant pause. “Want your hand around my throat, too.”

God, no one knew how to play you quite like Jenna did. “Jenna,” you groan, your facade rapidly crumbling, “you’d look so pretty like that, baby.”

“Yeah,” Jenna agrees mindlessly, “I like it ‘cause…” her voice is strained in a way that you just know she has her head thrown back, strong and delicate, “you’re so gentle.” It’s with a bleeding intimacy that momentarily makes you forget you’re thousands of miles away from Jenna, and the only thing you can think of is her warm eyes on yours, just begging for you to touch her.

She quiets down, and in the damning silence that follows, you hear her fucking herself. And because you know your girl, you know she wants you to hear.

“That’s filthy, Jen,” you say, matter-of-factly. It makes your head spin, the knot in your stomach tightening.

“I know,” she whines, and you can hear her going just that bit faster. “Fuck-” she exhales sharply- “I’m—I’m close.”

“Already?”

“I’m sorry,” Jenna whispers, and you know with every hitched moan, she’s hitting that spot inside of her. She’s not sorry, and you certainly aren’t either. “I can’t help it…”

You hum noncommittally, feeling anything but. “Don’t come until I say, alright?”

Jenna moans right into the receiver, and you can tell she’s frustrated to high hell. You laugh lowly, something cruel, and it only serves to fuel the way your fingers crave the smooth of her skin, how your tongue wants for her taste.

But that’s when you hear it, blazing through the fog in your mind, of brown eyes and pink lips. “Please…”

“Please what?”

She falters, breathing ragged. “Please let me…” A beat.

“Let you…?” You press on.

“Please,” her voice edges on the right side of desperate, the side that makes all of you pulse. “Baby, I’m so close…”

“I know,” you say simply.

There’s a silence that hangs in the air, and you know without seeing that Jenna’s cheeks are so red with her embarrassment that you could’ve slapped her and not gotten that same glow. You wait, patiently, nails biting into your skin.

“Let me come, please.” Her voice comes out like a quiet sob, resistance broken by her desire.

Letting out a long breath, you press the phone harder to your ear, feeling your fingers tremble. “You’re such a needy slut, Jenna.” She whines again, pleading and keening.

“I know,” she’s soft with it, “I am… so, please?”

You bite your lip, mind swimming, letting her plea hang in the air.

“Come for me, Jenna.”

It's quiet, at first, and then you hear it—a soft, little ah from where she’s clapped a hand over her mouth, and then muffled moans spilling out from behind as she tries so desperately to not let anyone else hear. You clench your jaw, wanting so bad to tear Jenna’s hand from her mouth just so you can take in every little whimper, quiet her with your mouth instead. But you whisper praises into the phone instead, coaxing her through her orgasm. She comes hard, you can hear it in the way she pants after she’s calmed down.

Jenna’s breathing evens out, and you know it before she does—she’s asleep. Your eyes close again, fist clenched in your bedsheets. It wasn’t the first time that she’d fallen asleep right after she came, and it makes a soft little grin play on your lips. The other end of the line is a loving, sated silence. You keep your voice low, not wanting to wake her.

“God, the things I’m gonna do to you, Jenna.”

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

#project wes #fanfiction #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega smut #smut #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader smut #reader insert #self insert #jenna ortega fanfic #jenna ortega fanfiction #jenna ortega fic #lgbtq #jenna ortega x y/n #wednesday addams x reader #how can I snooze and miss the moment you’re just too important #tara carpenter x reader

2K notes · View notes

revasserium · 3 months

Text

waiting for winter (我期待的不是雪)

zayne; 1,616 words; fluff, pining, gn!reader, no "y/n", spoilers for lads ch.4, whipped!zayne

summary: he has never loved the winter

a/n: yes, this was inspired by that one chinese tiktok song. no, i will not elaborate.

He has never loved the winter.

But he remembers the first time he watched the snow fall reflected in your eyes — your cheeks kissed pink by the unforgiving wind, the sky a smear of white as the cold sunk into his bones. He remembers the silver bell ring of your laughter as you’d dragged him by the hand out to build a snowman, the look on your face when he’d remarked that your snowman’s nose was crooked because there were no carrots at the corner store so you’d had to make do with a potato instead.

“Look! It’s snowing!”

Zayne shakes himself into the present, glancing out of his office window at the cotton-soft flurries spinning by his windows. Across from him, you’re sitting with a muffler thrown haphazardly around your shoulders, watching the snow with an open, child-like wonder that makes his entire chest twist tight with —

He clears his throat.

“All the more reason for you to be careful — make sure to bundle up when you go outside,” he says, dropping his eyes back to your most recent health report.

You’re not sleeping enough, and your vitamin D levels are lower than he’d like. He’d hoped that becoming a Hunter would at least expose you to a decent amount of sun but then again, you had told him that Jenna’s been keeping tight reigns on you since the explosion.

“Yeah, yeah — I’ll be careful.”

He looks up, his eyes dark as he looks over the shape of you, fingers curled in your lap as you look up at him from beneath your lashes. He holds your gaze and fights to keep his expression neutral as you blush and look away, somehow reverting back to a much younger version of you — the memory of it superimposed upon the look of you now.

“You’re just as bossy as you were back then,” you say, sighing as you shrug up your shoulders like a scolded child.

Zayne scoffs, affording himself a small laugh, “Except I have a doctorate to back it up now, don’t I?”

You pout, pursing your lips. Zayne wonders, for the millionth time that day, how soft they might be beneath his own.

“I liked you better before you got your fancy creds,” you say, still pouting.

Zayne sighs, flicking off his tablet and putting it down on the table.

“Alright, what do you want?”

You blink up at him, eyes wide enough to convince anyone else of your innocence. But he knows better. He’s always known better.

“What do you mean?”

He ticks his tongue against his teeth and leans back in his chair, checking his watch.

“It’s almost lunchtime — c’mon.”

He pushes up from his desk and tugs his doctor’s coat from his shoulders, rolling them loose of the tightness that had gathered there all morning.

“Huh?”

He rounds his desk and tugs his winter coat from the back of the door, turning to fix you with a look.

“The noodle shop around the corner has your favorite as a lunch special.”

He counts down from five in his head — four, three, two —

“Really?” your face breaks into a grin wide enough to split your face. He chuckles.

“Yes, really. Are you coming?”

You stare for a second longer before leaping to your feet and bounding to his side. He reaches out to adjust your muffler, tying it tighter over the front of your chest, swatting your hand away when you try to loosen it.

“I’m going to choke!”

“Better that than for you to get sick again.”

He tugs open the door and watches you walk into the hallway, a bounce to your step that he hasn’t seen since you were both kids and he’d promised you he’d buy you sweets on the way home from school.

“How’re you so sure that the lunch specials gonna be my favorite?” you ask, pivoting on your heels and fixing him with a look, halfway down the white-washed hospital halls. Zayne takes his time buttoning up his own coat and locking his office door behind him.

“Because,” he says, voice steady as he strolls by you, glancing down with the shadow of a smile crimping his lips —

“I know you.”

* * *

He has never loved the winter.

But, he thinks as he watches you slurp down a bowl of wide-cut noodles, your cheeks flushed red with joy, he might just learn to love a winter like this.

You don’t question it when he reaches out to swipe at the corner of your mouth with this thumb, licking off the excess with a contemplative hm. But he revels in the way you swallow and blush and look away.

He wonders if you know.

He wonders if you know that you haunt him like the cold haunts him on the nights when he’s alone. He wonders if you see him the way he sees you, cast behind his eyelids like the frames of an old film whenever he closes his eyes, your smile more familiar to him than his own.

“Full?” he asks, watching as you wipe your mouth on a bit of napkin, lips stained red by the chili sauce.

“Mhm!” you nod, smiling up at him.

The noodle shop smells of chicken stock and green onions and the sharp dampness of snow on winter coats. You push the noodle bowl away and stare down at your hands.

“Are you — I mean… you have to go back to work, right?”

He can’t help but notice the note of reluctance in your voice, the way you look up at him as if hoping he’ll say no. He nods, folding his napkin into halves, and then forths. Outside, the sun is already falling toward the far horizon, casting everything in a goldenrod glow. Shadows fall long and sure along the pavement and Zayne doesn’t want to think about the endless hours of darkness ahead.

“Are you going home after this?” he asks, nodding stiffly to the waiter as he hands over his card, wordlessly pushing your hand away as you make a feeble attempt to try and snatch the receipt.

“I… was thinking about going to see a movie,” you say, thumbing at a stray thread along the edge of your coat. He watches you tug at it for a while before reaching out to take your hand in his.

“Go home,” he says, his voice level.

Your brow creases in a slight frown as you look up.

“But… I wanted to see —”

“We’ll see it this weekend,” he says, giving your hand a quick squeeze before letting go, thanking the waiter as he takes back his card and scribbles his signature on the receipt.

“We will?” you ask, blinking up at him as he stands up.

“Yes. It’s showing Saturday at 2:30 — we can get lunch before, or dinner after.”

He’s tugging on his coat when you reach up to loop his scarf around his neck, standing too close, so close he can smell the caramel milk and whipped cream of your skin. He fights down the shivers that threaten to shake down his spine as he goes still, waiting as you tuck his scarf securely around his neck.

“You never tie your scarf right,” you say, dropping back down onto your heels even as you shoulder on your own coat, cheeks dusted the most darling shade of pink Zayne has ever seen. As he watches you, he thinks it might just put the winter sun to shame.

He thinks he might thank you, or he might just bend down and kiss you — he’s uncertain all the way till you make it outside and you turn to smile up at him. And like this, with the dying sun caressing the edge of your cheek, the line of your jaw, you are nothing short of ethereal.

Zayne reaches forward, his thumb and forefinger catching your chin as he leans down.

Your gasp is little more than a hiccup of breath —

“Don’t be late,” he says, stopping mere inches from your lips, whispering the words against where your lips might be if he were a little more daring.

You hold perfectly still, your eyes round as you stare up at him, searching his face for… something — anything.

When he pulls back, he thinks you almost make to chase him. But you let his fingers drop from your skin and you tug at your muffler, toeing at the slushed-up snow on the sidewalk.

“Winter’s my favorite season, y’know,” you say. And Zayne doesn’t dare to hope. But he does — he watches you out of the corner of his eyes. Above you, all around you, the afternoon sun flickers and fades, a daytime aurora, like tendrils of some long-gone magic, coaxing willing believers toward their untimely doom.

“Hn,” he says, not trusting himself with more. He waits; you take a long breath before turning to look at him.

“You wanna know why?” you ask. And finally, finally he turns to you, his eyes catching your eyes — and in them, he sees the twisting colors of the sky reflected there, serpentine and sinuous. Ancient and inexorable. Reds and yellows, pinks and purples, bleeding into an endless, endless winter blue.

He wets his lips and swallows hard, “Why?”

You smile, and it is like the first glimmer of sun after an arctic winter’s night, and he can’t breathe for the sight of it.

“Because… it reminds me of you.”

lads requests r.... open lol

983 notes · View notes

crazyoffher · 9 months

Text

ALL I NEED.

jenna ortega x fem!reader

summary: a crew-mate’s lingering eyes on your secret girlfriend sends you into a jealous fit.

warnings: smut (18+) — oral + fingering (j receiving), short-lived dom!jenna + sub!r turned into dom!r + sub!jenna, jealousy, begging.

word amount: 3100+

a/n: idk how to feel about this

“Do you see the way he’s looking at her?” As you gaped at the sight of Jenna droning on about something to a crew member almost twice her age, you could only watch from a distance because Jenna was too engrossed in her conversation to notice that his eyes were lurching over her body.

“He looks like he’s about to take her right there, right now.” You slapped Mason’s chest, pushing him away slightly at the incline of his joke. He and Jasmin were the only two on the Scream cast who knew about your lingering “crush” on Jenna, and the fact that Jenna and Mason had a kiss scene coming up didn’t exactly help your nerves.

“If it helps, I’ll kiss her a second less than I’m supposed to.” You pushed him again, farther this time, and he only chuckled at you before gazing his eyes back at Jenna and the crew member, his name Brandon. “You can intervene on that.”

“Yeah, and how will I do that?”

He thought about it for a second, his eyes lighting up once he figured out an excuse for you to give, and you could only picture a lightbulb above his head as well. “Tell her that one of the producers needs her for some line changes!”

“And what do I do when I tell her that one of the producers isn’t actually looking for her?” That’s where you got him stumped, mouth gaping open before closing while in thought. His phone buzzed, and he eyed the message he received before shoving the phone down his pocket and turning to you. “I have to go to makeup for the next scene, but just get her away from him. He’s been staring for too long.”

He patted your back before heading out of the lounge room you were all in. You groaned, your feet trudging toward the two, and you could feel Brandon’s gaze of annoyance as he found you approaching him and Jenna.

“Hey, Jen.” You pronounced the nickname you had for her that you proclaimed nobody else could use, and Jenna would always giggle at the maintenance you had for the nickname.

“(Y/N), we’re actually in a pretty good conversation right now, so if you could just-”

“Well, I’ve come here to interrupt that conversation because one of the producers needs Jenna for line changes. My lady,” You held out your hand to her, bowing slightly, and she laughed at you, taking your hand before saying her goodbyes to Brandon. You tried your absolute hardest not to smirk at his vexed expression.

“Now, can I be honest with you?” You questioned Jenna. She turned to you with furrowed eyebrows and narrowed eyes, visibly confused. “Honest about?”

“Well, the producers don’t actually need you. I just needed to get you away from him.” You only looked forward, feeling that eye contact with Jenna would only make you feel uneasy, but all you got out of her was a giggle.

“I’ve told you countless times, baby, you don’t need to be jealous of anybody. Don’t think I’m oblivious to the way he looks at me.” She halted you, encircling your waist with her arms while resting her chin on your chest and peering up at you.

“Then why do you allow him to look at you like that?” You unraveled her arms from your waist with a hint of spite in your eyes. Jenna didn’t remove her chin from your chest, though, and instead raveled her arms around your shoulders, shooting back, “Why do you allow everyone to think that you only have a crush on me instead of the real truth?”

“For your own sake. You said it yourself; you aren’t comfortable yet with people knowing about us. So much, considering you like to be risky.” You looked up and down the hall you were in, empty but accessible to anybody who could catch you and Jenna in the position that you were in, faces only inches away from kissing.

“I said I didn’t want the public to know; I never said anything about our friends.”

You scoffed and tried to push her away, but her grip on you only tightened. “Please, Mason can’t keep a secret if his life depended on it, and if Brandon found out, he would probably out us because of his own jealousy, even if anybody were to actually believe him.”

Basking in your clear jealousy, Jenna’s fingers tapped against the back of your neck. It sent shivers down your spine; goosebumps rose, and all you could do was gaze down at her as you anticipated her reply. “You’re jealous, and I love it when you’re jealous, though for all the wrong reasons.”

You could only allow her to control you, one hand slithering from your neck to grab your hand, guiding it from her chest down to her hips, stopping just below an area you’ve grown to know as sensitive to your touch.

You groaned. “You asshole,” and with that, you pulled her back by her shoulders into a room that stood behind where the two of you had formerly been, reaching behind Jenna to turn the knob of the door and pushing her into the room. With your foot, you shut the door closed with a bang, your thumb and index fingers grazing the lock to turn it over.

The small room, littered with only a couch, television, and desk, was to be used for actors to go over their lines in solitude if they didn’t find their trailers compatible enough due to outside commotion. You’d be lying if you said you and Jenna hadn’t used the couch for more adult-like themes (and maybe the desk), and you remembered holding back snickers when one of the producers texted the cast group chat, asking whoever was using the room for “inappropriate reasons”, that they would stop.

Immediately, you rushed forward, Jenna’s body colliding with yours with the same goal in mind. Your lips met hers, hands hooking around her waist as you drove your hips into hers with no patience in your strut. She gasped at the feeling of your clothed core raking against hers, your tongue traveling all around her mouth, lips pulling away with a pop but not before you clenched your teeth into her bottom lip, drawing blood.

Jenna sighed in contentment as your lips met her neck, turning the both of you around so that you could sit on the couch, pulling Jenna by her back to sit on your lap with your lips never leaving their place. “I think I need to get you jealous more often.”

“You do that, and I’ll start edging you.” Your lips traveled around her neck, littering her with small hickeys that the makeup crew were going to have a field day covering up. Your lips met her pulse point, drawing a breathy moan out of Jenna. When you started sucking on that area, her hands moved to your chest, grabbing your button-up shirt and pulling it out of your pants, ripping it open, and causing a button or two to fly off the garment. She groaned at the sight of you left in just a white tank top, your breasts pushing up in her direction.

In the scene you had filmed not too long ago, the set took place at a party, your character dressed as an 1800’s businessman for whatever reason, and Jenna’s character was a pirate, leaving her in fishnet stocking and jean shorts that rode up whenever she sat down.

You removed your lips from her neck, replacing her hands with yours, and pushed yourself up to remove the shirt from your body. You caught the eye of a button when you were going to throw the collared shirt on the floor. “You ripped off a button!”

“So?” Jenna’s lips met yours again; her tongue shoved into your mouth while her hands raked from your stomach to your breasts, palming at them through the tank top’s fabrication, blocking her access to the two things she loved the most.

You pulled away from her, tugging at Jenna’s shirt and yanking it over her head, her pirate’s bandana coming off in the process. “You want our relationship to be secret, but you don’t even know the definition of it. Hickeys on your neck, popped buttons on my shirt, and you’re not expecting the crew to get a whiff of what’s going on?”

“Then let them,” her hips bucked at the feeling of your cold hands slithering under her bra, wasting no time in feeling all around her as your fingers clipped onto her nipples, tugging at them and releasing a groan out of Jenna, “let them know that you’re all mine.”

“You know just as well as I do that you don’t mean that.” You removed your hands from their position, placing them on her ass and pulling her up with you before dropping her back on the couch.

You kneeled in her presence, hands gripping her knees as you widened the space in between her legs, her shorts riding up, exposing her tan thighs covered by the stockings. You removed her shorts, unbuttoning them at a fast pace before sliding them off, tugging off her shoes as well in the process.

You ran your hands through her smooth skin, taking in the sight of Jenna’s perfectly-shaped thighs covered by the stockings, and you’d be lying if you said your mouth didn’t water at the sight. Driving in the sight once more, you moved your hand up to her hip, grabbing the hem of the stockings and taking them off of her, leaving her bottom half in only her underwear. You smirked at the wet patch that sat in the middle of the cloth, your fingers tapping at her thighs.

“Baby, it’s only you thinking that it’s because I’m—oh, shit.” You hushed Jenna by pushing your index finger against her clit, circling the sensitive nub painfully slowly, the friction from her underwear only building up her urge to take you right there and then. “You were saying?

Your head dipped down between Jenna’s legs, moving away from where she needed you the most to kiss and nip at her inner thighs. Your hands moved from their position on her knees, replacing themselves around her thighs and rubbing up and down as you licked at the reddening bite marks you had imbedded into her skin.

“Since you want to be such a bitch,” you moved Jenna’s underwear only slightly, tongue licking at the outline of her cunt, causing her to buck her hips up, “and try to make me jealous with fucking Brandon,” you slid two fingers under the wettening cloth, fingers trailing over her folds, and Jenna gripped the couch with impatience, “then fucking beg for it.”

Her mind completely disregarded your hand in her panties, and her head flew down to meet your gaze. “What?” Despite being possessive and rough, per Jenna’s own needs, in almost all the times you and Jenna had engaged sexually, you never took it to the next level. Until now.

“I know you’re not deaf, Jen. Beg for it.” You repeated, head maneuvering so your nose was brushing against her clothed clit while you spoke in cold breaths, watching Jenna’s thighs clench and unclench at the breeze. You could feel Jenna’s hand slither into your hair, digging her nails into the follicles to try and pull you closer to her, but your head didn’t budge.

You grabbed her hand, pinning it down along with her other hand that was approaching your scalp as well, keeping them tightly still at her sides. You stuck out your tongue, flexing it into a more narrow shape before licking the fabrication that kept Jenna sealed. You flicked one, two, then three kitten-like licks at her nub, urgently removing your hands from her wrists and pinning down her hips that bucked their way up into your face, trying to get a pleasurable sensation but to no use. “I’m not giving you shit until I hear you whine how bad you want this.”

Jenna moved to speak, breathing unevenly, but her words never vocalized themselves because you moved her panties more to the side with your right hand, running your index finger down her throbbing cunt, then back up, all while you watched her facial expressions change at each movement. “Please, (Y/N).”

“Please what?” Your finger stroked itself down her cunt again, this time stopping where you could feel her hole pulse under your touch. She whined, her hips desperately trying to push down into your finger, but your left hand still held a firm grip on her bony frame, your hand pushing down the right side of her hip and your elbow pushing down the left side. “I’m not going to do anything that can remotely get you off until you tell me what you want.”

“Just fuck me!” She groaned out, her face heating up hotter than ever as she caught sight of you staring back at her with such an innocent glint in your eyes. Such innocent eyes could fool anybody unless they saw what you were doing to Jenna, using your approach to somehow make the situation much direr.

“Fuck me as hard as you can. Please, god, I just want to feel you.” Her whines were loud, letting you know that the producers awareness of such dirty nonsense going on in the room told you that you weren’t at fault, but instead Jenna’s unawareness of how loud she was.

You purred into her center. “There you go, sweetheart.” Your middle finger pushed against your index finger, inserting the two digits into her core. Jenna let out a low groan, basking in the relief of what you had just made her wait for, even if it was her own fault. She’d never blame herself for a halt on her pleasure, even if it was her own fault, and she’d make more than sure to get you back for your teasing later.

You pumped your fingers, letting Jenna get used to the feeling while gradually moving faster to get her going. As you sped up, Jenna’s face morphed into expressions that you could cum from just looking at, letting your mind get to you as you found yourself subconsciously thrusting your hips into the space between Jenna’s legs on the couch.

You stopped your hip movement, eyeing Jenna to see her head sprawled back, mouth agape, and letting out a loud moan when your lips met her clit. Sucking feverishly, you bit down on the sensitive nub to send her a warning, seeing as she managed to roll her hips around your mouth despite your tough grip on her. “Don’t,” was all you muttered before sucking on her clit again, Jenna whining at the vibrations your word sent throughout her cunt.

Jenna could feel the coil in her stomach starting to tighten, the pleasure becoming more unbearable while you attacked her cunt, mouth and tongue swirling and sucking around her clit and two fingers pumping in and out of her. You bit down on her clit again, causing a moan to erupt from her. Jenna’s hands rode up her stomach and up to her chest to palm at her own breasts, eyes shutting at the pleasure build-up, finding herself closer to releasing.

You noticed this; your attack on her clit the same, but you switched up your finger movement, shoving them into her knuckle-deep and curling them, pumping them in and out a couple times before locating her g-spot. You pushed into it, making her yell out your name along with a squeaking whimper. “Fuck! Go faster!”

You did just that, keeping your fingers curled as you grazed her g-spot continuously, her knuckles white, still gripping onto her breasts that were bound to be littered with small bruises soon. “Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum.”

You only hummed, sucking Jenna’s nub harder and watching her body start to twitch, hands leaving their death grip on her breasts to bury in your hair, pulling you into her deeper. “Ugh, don’t stop! I’m gonna-” and with a low moan of your name, the coil in her stomach snapped, her body jolting from her orgasm. You slowed your fingers, uncurling them, and after she had calmed down, pulled them out and gazed at your fingers covered in her slick.

Calmed down from your former jealous rage, you stood up, kneeling over Jenna’s panting frame on the couch to engulf her in a kiss that she immediately reciprocated, her hands flying up to cup your cheeks. Without a word, you took your index finger and put it up to Jenna’s lips, mouth parting without a second thought and you stuck your finger in, mentally groaning at the sensation of her tongue swirling all around your fingers in desperation to taste her own cum.

Popping your finger out of Jenna’s mouth, your eyes never faltered from hers as you stuck your middle finger into your mouth, fighting to roll your eyes back at the taste of her.

Once more, you two met in a kiss, her arms wrapping around your shoulders to pull you deeper, a goal to pleasure you just as much lingering in her mind.

You felt a buzz at your knee, startling you, and you pulled away from Jenna. “What the-” You moved your knee to the side, Jenna’s phone revealing itself to be the culprit of the odd vibrations. She picked it up, her eyes widening slightly at the messages that littered her phone from the cast group chat, letting her know that shooting was supposed to continue about five minutes earlier, but they couldn’t shoot without Jenna herself.

“Oh shit.” She sighed, and you skimmed the messages from the angle you found yourself in, getting the memo that she needed to leave. You stood up straight, gathering Jenna’s clothes off the floor as she stood up and stretched, trying her hardest to fix her hair before retying her pirate’s bandana.

Once she got dressed, she pulled you in for one last kiss, murmuring in your ear, “I’ll deal with you later,” before heading for the door.

“Jenna?” She halted, turning to face you at the call of her name, the doorknob in her hand. “Yeah?”

“You might want to stop by the makeup crew.” You pointed to her neck, reminding her that she was covered with hickeys, some larger than the others.

Feeling her neck, she winced at the multiple bruisings that littered her, giving you a glare before heading out. “Asshole.”

☟ ☟ ☟

taglist (so far): @grandpatrolnut @jennas-10 @annalestern @yara124 @daryldixonsw1fe

#jenna ortega #crazyoffher #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #celebrity x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega smut #jenna ortega x reader smut #smut #wattpad #actress #scream #tara carpenter #tara carpenter smut #jealousy #fanfiction #lesbian

2K notes · View notes

letorip · 12 days

Text

i heard your name

"i heard your name and i'll never be the same”

===+++===

pairing: cairo sweet x reader

summary: after a life of fleeting things, you come to tennessee, and find someone you don’t want to be “fleeting” anymore, though she may come with ulterior motives

warnings: rivalry, references to sex, hints at student-teacher relationships, reader is being used (duh)

word count: 4.8k

A/N: i really really hate the concept of miller's girl as a whole, but i can't deny that cairo sweet is a captivating character psychologically, and that jenna does an absolutely amazing job. inspired by lolita, pale fire by vladimir nabokov, and the movie hot summer nights.

===+++===

You became aware of Cairo Sweet on a hot, sunny school day, one that almost seemed to mock your lack of enthusiasm for the new school in its beauty and the light breeze.

The high school was an ugly building, one that sat in limbo between southern charm and the studious American educational experience seen in the likes of pretentious New England. The decorator had clearly not known which one to pick, but no amount of fancy classrooms or bookshelves and Turkish rugs would make you forget you were in Tennessee of all places.

It would be just as unmemorable and brief as the last, and that’s exactly what you reminded yourself while you waited dreadfully early in the front office, in an uncomfortable yellow plastic chair that had one leg much shorter than the others.

The receptionist lady seemed nice enough, smiling at you all bright and wrinkly like old people did. “So sorry about the wait, dearie. Any minute now, she’ll be—”

“It’s no problem,” you shrugged. “I’m not really in a rush.”

The woman nodded, her eyes melting into little crows feet at the ends. There was a theory you had heard once, that the more wrinkles someone had, the more they had smiled in their life. It didn’t fit many of the crotchety old people you had met, who seemed to have frowns permanently stitched onto their leathery faces, but it definitely fit her. She glowed like a beacon, or twinkled like a chandelier of happiness.

“Are you excited about coming here?" She asked. "Starting the new semester has to be exciting!” The entire time the older woman kept sheepishly glancing over at the door, waiting someone to come in. Whoever was supposed to be guiding your tour was clearly very late.

You had long given up on hoping your mom would pick a spot and stay there. In two more months maybe, she would announce she 'wanted a change' again, and you wouldn't give this place a second thought when you left, just as you hadn't given the last places a second thought either. But you couldn't just say no.

You smiled back at her. "Yeah, kinda. This seems like a good school."

"Oh it's just splendid!" She assured you. "The kids love it here, it's just-" Before she could finish, the office door swung open, and a girl in crazy clothing bustled in, dropping her bag on the floor in the middle of the room and spinning to the receptionist.

“I’m so, so sorry!” She said, visibly dishevelled (though maybe that was just her nonsense outfit) and maybe sweating a bit. “I completely forgot I was supposed to do this!” She laughed. She seemed like one of those girls that were always drunk— not in a sad, alcoholic way, but like they were drunk on life (and maybe alcohol too).

“It’s alright, Winnie. They haven’t been waiting long.” Winnie spun around, noticing you where you sat, leaning your head back against the wall.

“Hi there, I’m Winnie,” she said, holding out her hand with a smile. You stood up and shook it in your own, smiling back. This would all be fleeting anyhow.

“Hi, yeah I heard. (Y/n)."

Winnie tilted her head, giving you a devilish smirk. She was absurdly energetic for it being so early. "Boy, aren’t you cute.”

“And aren’t you really forward,” you laughed.

She shrugged. “I think it’s more fun that way. You got a nickname?"

"Eh," you shrugged. You did, from your mom, but it wasn't worth mentioning when you wouldn't be here that long. "Not really."

"Nooo, you definitely should have one," she said, and you raised your eyebrows at her.

"I'm really good, I think," you said, grinning. "Not the most nickname—able name out there."

"Fine," she shrugged. "Suit yourself I guess. Now c’mon,” said Winnie, sticking her hand out to you. There was a certain glint in her eyes then. “I’m gonna show you every little place in this shitty little school.”

"Winnie, language!" The receptionist scolded her.

"Sorry," she winced.

Winnie dragged you around the halls like that, hand in hand and pointing into classrooms; she waved to the people that she passed. It was decent sized school, with a big cafeteria and gym, but not much else unique to boast except for the few sports fields outside. Your last school didn't have that, but it had been northern Alaska, so it made sense. It was probably hard, what with the snow.

“Boris!” Winnie waved over at a man in a track suit, with a whistle around his neck that all gym teachers seemed to wear. He rolled his eyes, waving back at her. "That's Coach Fillmore," she explained.

“What’ve I told you about that, Winnie?” He asked.

Winnie slipped her red-heart sunglasses over her eyes, flashing him a smile. “Still your favourite though, right?”

“Yeah yeah.” And he turned his attention back to the football field, coffee in hand. Winnie spun back to you, with an almost infectious aura.

"So, why'd you move?" she asked, grabbing your hand again and tugging you back inside. The metal door slammed shut behind you with a loud thud.

"Witness Protection Program," you shrugged as she pulled you around the corner. “On the run from the cartel." She looked at you like you were crazy for a moment, eyes all wide, then you laughed and ruined it. "I'm kidding. Not actually."

"OOooooO, I like you. Cute and unserious. I thought you were going to be all square, but it turns out you can joke," said Winnie, shaking her head at you. "What's your locker number, again?"

You handed her the paper. "She wrote it on here."

Winnie took it from your hand, holding it up to the fluorescent lights and examining it like a slide under a microscope. "Ah, damn. You're on the opposite side of the school from me. Like literally, the exact opposite side. That's good though, right? Your first block is Calc?"

"Uh, no. It's uh..." you stopped, leaning against a wall and sliding your backpack off. You pulled your schedule from the top pocket. "Creative Writing, with Mr. Miller."

Winnie's eyes lit up, and she punched you on the arm. "No, fucking way?! That's my first block too!"

You shrugged. "I'd honestly rather do that than calculus right now, so."

Winnie laughed. "Yeah, you and any normal person." She stopped for a minute. "Are you okay if I go off and get some breakfast before class? Winnie hungee," she said, rubbing her stomach. "I also kind of ditched my friend, and I told her I'd find her."

You nodded. "Go ahead. I'm just gonna find my locker."

"Okay!" She said, giving you a small salute. "See you in class."

===+++===

You found your way well enough, and after fumbling with the big metal lock and struggling to put the code in, could actually open your yellow locker and throw the heavy bag you had been carrying inside.

You could see other kids walking up and opening theirs around you. Their doors had metal magnets and small whiteboards, stickers and posters. You hadn't brought stuff to decorate your locker in four years. Instead, your backpack had everything you carried in it, ready to go at the drop of a hat.

The creative writing classroom was down a hallway that split off near the gym, and luckily seemed less ugly than the rest of the school. The room smelled of pine and paper, which was probably a good sign, and bookshelves and glass jars littered the walls with a bunch of other random things setting the scenery for the big chalkboard and wooden desk in the middle.

Most of the other students were already there when you arrived through the double doors, including Winnie. She stood at one of the front desks talking to someone. When she saw you, she waved, eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree even from afar. In her past life, this girl would have been a golden retriever. You waved back then turned away, heading to one of the back desks that put you firmly away from the teacher's line of sight.

Mr. Miller seemed like an alright guy, or just enough of one. He didn't do any cheesy introductions of people, or make you do one of those stupid icebreakers that made you want to die, no— he was straight to the point, with just a splash of drama.

"Hello everyone! This semester my main goal is to make you write. And I mean really write." He paused for dramatic effect, as if he thought it was Dead Poet's Society. "This is not like your other English classes, where you put minimal effort into a 'meh' essay and turn it in, and you're happy with a B. No, I want you to feel something."

After that, you couldn't help but tune him out. He wasn't bad, no. But he was just boring and unremarkable, and anything a high school writing teacher from Tennessee would be, in the way he stuttered or played with the lid of his plastic coffee cup.

He spent most of the class prattling off the syllabus and giving out the first assignment, due in a couple of days. You weren't especially interested in writing as a whole, and even less interested in the prompt of 'write about you,' but you shoved the paper into your backpack and figured you'd give it a shot.

"Mr. Miller?" asked a voice from the front.

"Yes, Cairo?” Mr. Miller said, and you raised your head up, looking to where he was speaking. The hand belonged to a girl with dark hair, and you immediately recognised her as the one Winnie had been talking to before class. She was clearly very smart, with a small stack of books on her desk in front of her.

“Are we talking about ourselves literally, as in our achievements, or as in our emotions and how we feel?” she asked. Cairo looked pretty when she talked, though you dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. This was fleeting. It was important to remember that.

“It’s up to you, actually,” he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning back against his desk. “Whatever really lets me know you.” Boy, how cliche.

When class ended, Winnie bounded over to you with a smile, her school bag tucked under her arm like it had been earlier. “Sooo, how was your first class?”

“It was pretty good, no complaints,” you said, fumbling with your folder and shoving it back into your bag.

“So, listen, do you want to sit with me at lunch? Me and Cairo sit together and you can totally join us if you want,” said Winnie, still as bubbly as ever. She gestured towards the door, and you could see the girl from earlier looking through the books on the bookshelf that stood next to it.

You shook your head. “Sorry, I got invited by a group to sit with them and I already said I would.”

Winnie frowned, pouting cartoonishly with her lower lip drooping. “No worries. If ever again though, me and Cairo would be happy to have you."

You gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Maybe tomorrow."

You ate lunch that day leaning against a concrete wall underneath the football bleachers, with no one else around, a thick paperback in your one hand and a sandwich in the other, headphones over your ears.

===+++===

"Thank you all so much for your submissions," Mr. Miller said, a stack of essays sitting under his arms as he passed them back to the class. The weather of that Friday was much more relaxed, with a smattering of clouds covering up the sun, the way you liked it.

The past three days had been just as uneventful as the last, and you went home each night only to wake up the next morning and stay equally as unenthusiastic, and attempt to bury your face into the fabric of your pillow for another five minutes.

He cleared his throat. "I've decided to do something fun, and kind of crown a 'winner' for the week, if you will." He shrugged. "It's just someone I really was impressed with, and want to recognise so, uh, we'll do this after every writing piece."

From behind the class with your head propped up on your palm, you saw Cairo tensing at his words. It had become clear even through disinterested observation that she cared way more about the class than literally anyone else— maybe even Mr. Miller. She raised her hand first, offered feedback on anyone made to read aloud, and always stayed after. She was probably itching for the recognition and you figured she deserved it too.

Which was why it shocked the hell out of you when Mr. Miller walked right up to his desk, put his hands in his pockets, cleared his throat like he thought it was a drum-roll moment, and announced, "this week I was incredibly impressed with (Y/n)'s writing."

There was no way. You froze, not entirely sure he was talking to you. Maybe he had just mispronounced someone else's name indistinguishably close to yours. Cairo's head whipped around, face equally as in shock. There was no way. Winnie was smiling at you, other kids were staring, and you wanted to die.

"Uh...thanks."

From the other side of the room, Winnie whooped for you, clapping a little, in an awkward way. Someone else let out a cough. Mr. Miller shook his head, and said, "No, thank you. Your writing was really impressive. It made me feel, in a way that was refreshing from some other things I've read."

Cairo whipped back around to gape at him for a moment and then back to you. Then, back to Mr. Miller as he continued. "I don't have much in terms of prizes, but there is a bowl of candy over there, and you can take one if you'd like."

You nodded, standing up and making your way over to the clear bowl. Why the hell not. Writing had never been something you thought you were fantastic at— you had never shared it with anyone since there had been no one to share it with. Your fingers went in, and out you pulled a grape lollipop, retreating back to your seat and popping it in your mouth.

From the front, you felt Cairo glancing at you from over her shoulder, but tried to ignore the raising hairs on the back of your neck with her focus on you. “Okay,” said Mr. Miller. “Turn to your textbooks.”

===+++===

The grape lollipop was still in your mouth at lunchtime, leaning against the concrete wall and feeling the hot Tennessee breeze ruffle against your soft shirt, moving it gently against your skin. It was quiet out, and you had your headphones over one ear, leaving the other one to listen to the trees and the wind.

That's how you heard the footsteps from around the corner, even through your music. You looked up from where your eyes had been tracing the cracks of the concrete and watching the ants walk by into their nearby hill, and there she was.

Cairo Sweet had found you.

She stood a bit down the way, on the path, with her arms crossed right over her chest. Her eyes were just as dark as before, and they bore into yours with a strange carnal desire. It sent a shiver down your spine.

"Uh, hi?" you managed. She didn’t even acknowledge it.

"So, how long are you going to keep lying to Winnie for?" Cairo asked, her voice as smooth as butter on your ears. It was a question that caught you completely off guard in its sincerity.

"Uh— I'm not— I haven't been lying," you stammered. Cairo wasn't convinced; her eyebrows lifted a little, creasing her forehead in disbelief. She took a step, one agonisingly after the other, closing the distance between you two until she stood directly beneath you, staring up through her lashes in a near haunting way. Subconsciously you took a small step back.

"I have a question," she whispered, like it was right in your ears. You could feel your blood rushing to them quickly, and it felt as if everything was happening in an almost sinful daze, slow and burning.

"Yeah?" you murmured back, fighting against the lollipop to speak. It made it harder to swallow.

"Can you smell my perfume?" Cairo asked, and your brain hung off every word that spilled from her lips.

"Yes," You clumsily nodded, eyes shooting down to her perfect mouth as it moved, then up to the freckled apples of her cheeks. You knew you were breathing loudly. "It's lavender, and—"

"—Good," she praised, barely audible in her sickly soft whisper. You nodded again, head feeling heavy. God, this girl. "Good," Cairo said again. You didn't know what to say.

"I want to read your essay," she continued, scanning the bleachers for a moment and then eyes shifting back to you in full force. She had you right where she wanted you. Under her thumb.

"Uhhhh, why?" you trailed off, confused as all hell and letting out an awkward laugh to cover.

"It's good, isn't it?" She asked, challenging you with her stare and a smirk, as if to say she knew exactly what she was doing to you chemically. "I haven't found many I want to read."

"Essays?" You mumbled.

"Good ones," she corrected you, whispering it slowly. Your gaze lowered to her lips again, her lower one caught between her teeth. Her own eyes flew to the lollipop, the stick hanging between you both.

Your breathing hitched when her hand came up, lightly grabbing the end and oh so gently pulling it from your mouth, some of your saliva carrying with it. She twirled it, never breaking eye contact with you as she placed the purple crystalline sugar on her tongue, closing her mouth around it for a moment. Cairo smiled, then pulled it from her lips and placed it back in yours.

You blinked slowly, unsure of what this was but finding it all too addicting to know how to stop it. At the sound of voices in the distance, the spell was broken, and Cairo looked back over her shoulder. You cleared your throat, realising the situation you were in.

"What're you trying to do?" You asked. It wasn't a gentle question, but it wasn't a harsh one either. Part of you wanted her to whisper back something cheesy and romantic. Or maybe you wanted something salacious to come from her all-too-plush lips, and the moment to end with hers on yours.

But instead she just blinked at you. It was like the question had taken her power away; she faltered completely. She frowned, almost frustrated by you asking, and she didn't have an answer. "Just let me know about the essay? I'd really like to read it."

Before you could reply, she turned around and walked away, as if going back to a drawing board far off in the distance. You watched her go, turning the lollipop over in your mouth.

===+++===

I should like to think that when I am older, the places I have been will make me cry. They will not meld together, in one long train; I will not move from car to car, blazing past what it may contain and never stopping to look out the window.

I will slide into a booth or take out a folding chair if I must, and watch the world go by. I will sit atop the mountains or amongst the grains of sand on a beach, and watch my eyes begin to water in the light of the setting sun.

Your eyes scanned over the essay in your hands, flipping through it and looking at all of Mr. Miller's notes. There were only four, and two of them were 'Wow!'. Even knowing he was impressed, you were at a loss for how this could be considered impressive. It was just words on a paper. Not difficult to write them, or copy them down. You were just talking, but on a page.

My mother seems to think I can’t hear her crying through the walls at night, wishing she were different. Her tears keep me up, and I trip and drown in the puddles of her despair, falling through the surface and into the depths hidden beneath, whenever I leave my room. I love her, and she always manages to convince herself I do not. She loves me, I always must convince myself she does.

It was this paragraph that made you hesitate, standing behind your locker door and rereading it over and over in your mind. There was no way you could show this to someone- and especially not Cairo.

And right there, like Cairo was conjured up by your mind, she was walking right past you, bag over her shoulder and book under her arm. You looked at her pass, the voice in the back of your mind whispering the word fleeting into your ear. It had been a week since your uncomfortable conversation (if you could even call it that) from underneath the bleachers, and she was acting weird.

She was almost avoiding you, and it was rather noticeable. Not to anyone else, who were unaware you knew each other existed, but to you, you knew. When Winnie said good morning and Cairo happened to be there, she would glance away, fully aware of you staring at her like a big idiot.

You found your way into the classroom, and Mr. Miller was writing something on the board in big white letters. It said 'MEANING,' and 'SYMBOL' in a smaller script underneath. He turned back when he was done, smiling over at Cairo and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

She always was the class favourite, and it made sense. Even if your writing was enchantingly fantastic, or some other amazing bullshit word Mr. Miller would write in blue pen that made you doubt he could actually read, Cairo was the one who actually tried. "I want everyone," he said, clearing his throat with a grunt, "to find a partner and sit down with them. This is going to be a partner activity."

You froze. Shit. These things sucked when you were the new kid who knew no one. You glanced over at Winnie, hopeful you'd find a partner in her, but she was madly gesturing towards Cairo to get her attention, and it made you smile a bit at the look on her face— until you saw who Cairo was staring at. You. Your smile went away in an instant.

Her brown eyes were staring at you again, sharp and intense. Then she picked up her bag, tucked the books she brought with her under her arm, and made due on her plan to pick you. You sent your glance away, as if to pretend you couldn't tell she was coming for you. And yet when her books landed on the table with a soft thud, you couldn't ignore her anymore.

"Care to partner up?" She asked, pulling the chair back to sit down before you could even answer. From the other side of the room, you could see Winnie staring at you, looking confused as all hell.

"Uh, sure," you managed. Was she just going to pretend you two hadn't shared whatever that was? It seemed to be the case, and it seemed she knew you were uncomfortable. Cairo Sweet almost seemed to relish in doing that to people.

"So, how'd you enjoy your first week here?" She asked, pulling out a notebook and flipping to a fresh page. She leaned forward, crossing one leg over her other.

You shrugged carefully. "It was good. Boring, but good."

Cairo nodded. "This is a really boring town, so that makes sense."

"Yeah..." you trailed off. She made putting sentences together incredibly hard for you.

Mr. Miller's assignment was boring beyond belief, but Cairo sat up straight the entire time he gave out directions, eyebrows lowering a bit or head tilting after every clarification, like she was making a mental reminder to remember that later. You attempted to ignore her, looking over to the bookshelf on your other side out of boredom.

They were all leather bound, in alternating shades of brown and green, and some hardcovers in sheathes intermixed. Finnegan's Wake and Scienza Nuova, Being and Time and Infinite Jest, you recognised and had read them all. Day-long car rides would do that to you, and it was within reading you found a particular solace from your mom screaming along to the radio.

"(Y/n), are you listening?" Cairo whispered over at you, pulling your gaze back towards her. You nodded, even though you weren't. Her leaning in seemed to fill your nose with her smell. It was lavender, and it was overpowering.

She raised her eyebrows at you like she knew you were lying again. "Really? What're we doing, then?"

You blinked. Shit. "Uh...I don't know, sorry," you apologised, feeling somewhat sheepish. Cairo gave you a judging look, and you were starting to feel like maybe she was regretting choosing you as her partner. She sighed.

"It's fine. Do you want to maybe come over on Friday? We can work on the paper," she said, playing with her pencil. You frowned.

"I thought Winnie said there was a party on Friday."

Now Cairo looked confused. "Are you going to that?"

"I thought you were?" You questioned, trailing off. She laughed at that, like it was a funny suggestion.

"No, it's not really my scene. Winnie's the partier," she grinned. "A party animal, even."

You nodded, feeling yourself relax a little bit. "That makes sense. You're probably writing or reading instead or something."

She seemed intrigued. "Is that what you think of me? A nerd?"

"Uh..." there was a certain heat flowing towards your cheeks, and it felt like the room was a million degrees. "A little, yeah."

"Wooow!—" Her voice rose in a mocking offence.

"—No, I don't— That's not!— I—"

"You think I'm a geek."

"Yeah, only because you're always reading and stuff, so," you argued, raising your hands up. She laughed.

"So if you read, that makes you a nerd?"

"That's obviously not what I'm saying, but the normal kids just go home and watch a show or something," you shrugged. A beat of silence passed between you, and you groaned, realising your mistake and dragging your hands down your face.

"'Normal', huh?" She asked. You sent her a glare, only to find her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she smiled at you, taking great fun in making you red. Then, within an instant, as if it had been flipped like a switch, the weightless look in her eyes shifted to something far darker.

"You know," she said, and you found your heart catching in your throat. "I don't only read in my free time. I find other things to do." She was back at a whisper, leaning in towards your ear. Each enunciation reverberated in your ear drums and filled your brain with sinful ideation.

"I actually like to do things over and over. Creature of habit, really," she continued and your eyebrows rose. The classroom felt even more humid than it had before, and some sweat was already forming on your forehead. Mr. Miller stood behind his desk, and you felt hyperaware of how he kept glancing towards the both of you, his arms crossed and a deep frown on his face at the almost voyeuristic display.

The bell rang, and just as if nothing had happened, Cairo stood up, gathered her things, and walked off like she had under the bleachers.

"Wait-" You were left frozen there, watching her go out the door and down the hall. It took another ten seconds of sitting there for the spell she had cast on you again to be broken, but when it did, you shot up.

Clumsily you threw your notebook into your backpack, slinging it over your shoulder and taking off as quickly as you could. You wouldn't let Cairo flee.

She was near her locker, where you found her a few halls down. From over her shoulder, Winnie saw you coming, and sent you a friendly wave. Cairo followed her eyes, turning towards you and eyes widening. She was clearly surprised, crossing her arms over her chest as you walked right up to her and stopped.

"I have a question," you said.

"Ask away," said Cairo.

You nodded, thinking for a moment. "Why'd you pick me as your partner in this?"

She scoffed at this, uncrossing her arms and rolling her eyes like you were missing something obvious. It hadn't mattered how loud the passing crowd around you was. You heard her loud and clear, and it filled you with a sense of warmth that you hadn't felt since "fleeting" was just another word in the dictionary and not a mantra.

"Because, I think you're special," she said, only to you in the crowd of passing kids. You couldn't see Mr. Miller watching you both intently from the far wall, one arm crossed over the other.

===+++===

okay so this may or may not be a series i'm starting, but i at least know there is a part two that's already halfway done. part of what took me so long and why i've been gone for like a month has just been me agonising over every damn word. so. enjoy this bad boy ig? not that much happens in this part, but i promise the next part will be kind of crazy.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #miller's girl

369 notes · View notes

tonyspank · 8 months

Text

WHO?

Warnings: GN! Reader, fluffy + my poor attempts at humor

Summary: You find out who Jenna Ortega is.

You stand in front of your kitchen counter, watching your monitor as your viewers load into the Twitch chat. You smile watching the chat fly with questions and comments. "Hi, guys!" You wave at the camera, fixing your apron. "Be grateful I'm even streaming this because it was so difficult to get my setup in the kitchen."

You move from the counter to your camera, adjusting it a bit. "There," you mumble to yourself, glancing over to the chat again. "Happy Anniversary." You read off the chat, beginning to smile, "Thank you!"

@coolasacucumber where's babygirl jenna

@teamed28 anniversary??? TIME IS FLYING BROOO

@Versalcool171 why they look kinda cute in that apron

@TggthegreatRede HIIIIII

You move back to the counter, "Jenna isn't here, she's out doing something. But that's good because I'm surprising her with dinner for our anniversary! I have a table set up and everything on our balcony." You tell your viewers. You then look around the kitchen, gathering all the ingredients you need.

Soon a donation message pops up on your monitor and the bot begins reading it aloud. "What does Jenna's farts smell like?"

You pause your movements, standing completely still for a few seconds before moving again. You ignore the question, acting as if you never got it, but the smile on your face gives away your amusement. "Uh, anyway."

You break the silence and continue with your task. You lift up a salmon, "I'm cooking salmon, rice and broccoli for bae." You look up at the chat, watching thousands of reactions appear on the screen. You begin seasoning your salmon with a mixture of herbs and spices, and then place it in the hot pan.

Another donation rings through, "Can you tell us the story of how you met Jenna? I love you so much by the way." You chuckle and reply, "I love you too! Sure, once upon a time..." You say dramatically, laughing at your own joke.

"I was streaming, you know? The usual, then I got a donation."

TWO YEARS AGO

You watch as your screen shows victory, winning another match of Overwatch. Leaning back in your chair, you listen to the donation ringing through your headset. "Have you watched the new Wednesday show on Netflix?"

You furrow your eyebrows as your eyes are fixed on the screen. "Nah, I haven't. Like Wednesday Addams?" You laugh and tilt your head, waiting for the next match to start.

As you wait you decide to check the chat.

@Yuanycat530 Jenna Ortega's in the show

@zenocentric you gotta watch it for mommy jenna

@Momismme3600 its sooo good stg

@amburntfreemansgf MASONS WATCHING STREAM

You sit back up in your chair, adjusting the hat on your head. "Who?" You begin chuckling, completely confused about what your Twitch chat was talking about. "Guys I don't know who Jenna Ortega is."

Suddenly, a flood of messages appear, all talking about Jenna Ortega and the new show she's in. You close out of Overwatch and start sharing your Google to the stream, typing in Jenna Ortega.

You quickly learn that Jenna Ortega is an actress and you begin to recognize her. "Oh, shit. She was in Scream 5 with Mason and David?" You turn your head to the chat before glancing back at the search.

You smile to yourself as you remember the movie. You search in Instagram, looking up Jenna's username, before following her and beginning to scroll through her posts. She was absolutely beautiful; you shock yourself as you can't believe you could forget someone so stunning.

@y/nsdirtysock NOT HER BLUSHING

@amburntfreemansgf IS THIS JOE GOLDBERG?

@mrsasfjerEgads SHES SMILING HELLA HARD

You're knocked out of your daze as your phone begins ringing. You fumble around for your phone, trying to answer it before it goes to voicemail.

You answer it and it's Mason, facetiming you. Mason's face lights up when he sees you. "Why are you going through Jenna's Instagram?!" He laughs and you join in, showing the camera Mason.

"Bro! Chat asked me if I watched her show. I forgot who she was!" Mason grins at his screen, "How could you forget Jenna Ortega?" You shrug and laugh, "I don't know!" Mason laughs again before he places his phone down on his desk, you do the same, rubbing your hands down your face. "Mason join me on Overwatch."

Mason raises an eyebrow, considering the offer. "Sure, but you know I'm bad at this." You smile, loading Overwatch back up. "It's okay, Daddy will carry you." Mason chuckles and playfully rolls his eyes. "Alright, let's see if you can actually carry me this time." Moments later, Mason is in your party, taking a sip of his water.

"My chat says, how did Jenna's profile look?" Mason grins reading off of his live chat on his own screen. You pick an operator, shaking your head. "Tell your chat to stop harassing me," you joke, your smile never fading. Mason chuckles and raises an eyebrow. "Oh, they're just curious. I still can't believe you forgot who Jenna is!"

"Dude! It completely slipped my mind," you admit, shrugging. Mason chooses his own operator before walking over to your character and using the "Hello" command. You watch as Mason's character waves and greets your character on the screen. "Imagine if you joined me on Saturday," he says playfully.

His eyes then widen, and he says, Oh, my god, you should join me on Saturday." You can hear the excitement in his voice as he continues, "It'll be so fun, swear, and! And Jenna will be able to make an unforgettable impression." You shake your head, watching your character run to the point.

"Are you trying to play cupid?" You joke, laughing. Mason chuckles and replies, "Well, maybe just a little. But seriously, it would be great to have you there. I'm sure everyone won't mind."

You raise an eyebrow, considering his offer. "Alright, I'll come." You finally agree, unable to resist his infectious enthusiasm. Mason grins triumphantly, clearly pleased with himself.

"Awesome! You won't regret it, I promise," he says, glancing at his chat, leaving you wondering what kind of unforgettable impression Jenna could possibly make.

You huff out when D.Va kills you, leaning back in your chair as you wait to respawn. "Chat. If someone gifts 100 gifted subs, I'll tattoo Jenna's face on my buttocks." You joke, a small smirk on your lips.

Mason chuckles, clearly amused by your playful banter. "Hey, don't underestimate the power of your chat. Who knows, you might end up with a masterpiece on your backside," he teases, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly. You laugh along, secretly hoping that no one takes your joke too seriously.

However, as you continue playing, a notification pops up on your screen indicating that someone has indeed gifted 100 subs. Your eyes widen in disbelief. "Ain't no way!"

A FEW HOURS LATER

*jennaortega started following you*

You rise from your bed, clicking on the Instagram notification that pops up on your phone. Ain't no fucking way.

Jenna - So...Saturday? Will a portrait of my face be on your butt?

You - you would like that wouldn't you?

Jenna - I'd prefer somewhere everyone can see Jenna - Maybe your forehead is a better spot

You - lol, how about we get matching ones then? You -that way when we kiss we can really make it look like we have four eyes

Jenna - Kiss? Who said anything about kissing? Jenna - I'm not that kind of girl 🤨

You - oh, so what kind of girl are you? ;)

Jenna - The kind that doesn't appreciate these cheesy pickup lines

You - ooh, dairy free You - completely understandable You - from now on i will acknowledge that

Jenna - xxx-xxx-xxx Jenna - Text me on IMessage

You - yes ma'am! 🫡

Reacted ❤️ to your message.

ONE YEAR LATER

"Chat, I'll let you know I just woke up. Don't mind this..." You say, motioning over your face, as you try to rub the sleep from your eyes. "Sorry if I seem out of it. It takes time for my brain to boot up."

You don't notice the way your chat freaks out about the hickey on your neck, as your focus is still on trying to fully wake up. The hickey, a remnant from last night's passionate embrace, remains unnoticed by you for now.

@h5therx is that a mf hickey

@TheGrapeNinja WHO WAS SUCKING ON UR NECK

@twizzy1 @TheGrapeNinja BLOOD THIS AINT EVEN MY NECK????

"Valorant, or Overwatch?" You ask, finally glancing over at your Twitch chat.

You notice a flurry of comments in the chat, with some viewers teasingly pointing out the hickey on your neck. You pause, staring at the chat, before quickly covering your neck with your hand, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Brooo, I didn't even know I had this," you mutter sheepishly, rubbing your hand over your neck.

The chat explodes with laughter and playful comments about your unexpected love mark. "Is she going to hear a word out of me." you mutter to yourself, talking about your girlfriend as you begin realizing that even the smallest details don't go unnoticed by your loyal viewers.

"Enough about my hickey! Pick a game!" You jokingly yell at your chat, reaching for a hoodie to cover up the mark. As you put on the hoodie, a donation comes through.

You pause for a moment, glancing at the donation message. "You said you were going to play Sims last stream. Don't worry about the hickey, we're just excited to see you play!"

You chuckle at the comment, grateful for the support and understanding from your viewers. With a smile, you reply, "Alright, alright! Sims it is then! Let's be delulu and create our dream life."

You start up the game and glance over to your chat. "Have you guys ever, like, gone to bed with like a thought or try to preload your own dream? Like, I be going to sleep with a specific idea or scenario in mind, hoping it will manifest in my dreams. It's like I'm trying to program my subconscious to create the perfect dream."

You pause, waiting for your viewers' responses, curious if anyone else has tried something similar.

@ricoottv Yes bruh I be dreaming about Gal Gadot dominating me fr

@24kGoldenRing @ricoottv 😨😨😨

@QuannMeline YESSSSS

As the chat starts flooding with responses, you notice that many of your viewers have indeed experimented with preloading their dreams. Some share their success stories, describing how they have had incredible adventures and even found solutions to real-life problems in their dream scenarios.

Others admit to having mixed results, with some dreams turning out exactly as they had hoped while others took unexpected turns. Excitement builds as everyone exchanges tips and techniques, eager to unlock the full potential of their dream worlds.

"I'm glad I'm not the only one." You chuckle and begin creating your Sim, carefully customizing every detail to make them as close to your ideal self as possible. You then put your face-cam side by side with your sim and ask, "Do they look like me?"

You wait for responses from your viewers, trying not to laugh at the potential comparisons they might make.

@tuneskixx it looks like u if u were mentally unstable

@47SH5T Y/N if they were off crack

@k0hjuh EWWWW

@Shaun Why the sim kinda 😍

"Me if I was off crack? Nah, that's wild." You say, rereading one of your subs chat. "Go to the gallery and find your love interest?" You read off, raising an eyebrow. Intrigued, you decide to take a break from creating your Sim and explore the gallery to see if there's a perfect match waiting for you.

There's a search bar, and without hesitation, you type in "Jenna Ortega." You eagerly scroll through the results, hoping to find a Sim that resembles Jenna Ortega.

Some of them look like her, and the others are far off, but you settle on one that seems to capture her essence the best. Excitedly, you click on the Sim and download it into your game.

"Guys, why does this actually look like Jenna?" You exclaim, unable to contain your excitement. "Yoo! They even have her cleft chin. But to be honest, Jenna doesn't really have a cleft chin, it only appears when she smiles or makes certain facial expressions."

@amburntfreemansgf nah bro a Jenna Ortega specialist

@AlexVsJay "jenna doesn't really have a cleft chin it only appears when makes certain facial expressions" 🤓☝️

@Shaun @amburntfreemansgf LMAOOOO

After adding a dog and cat to your household, you start your sim life as Jenna Ortega, her being your wife. You immerse yourself in the game, navigating through your and Jenna's daily activities and adventures.

"What the fuck!" You shout at the screen, your chat begins to fill up with messages at the sight of what's happening.

@mynames_jeff POV last night

@amburntfreemansgf sorry y'all jenna thought that was me 😅

@ricoottv OMGOMG

"Ya'll, I didn't tell them to do this! They real life just hopped out of the hot tub to make out." You tell your chat, watching as your sim and Jenna's sim kiss passionately. The unexpected display of affection between the sims surprises and amuses you, causing your chat to explode with laughter and comments.

You're so immersed in the game that you don't notice Jenna creeping into your room, a plate of cookies in hand.

@amburntfreemansgf BE SO FUCKING FOR REAL

@n6huh JENNA?????&1'

@t8lyer_44 I KNEW THEY WERE TOGETHER

@AlexVsJay Y/N has now becomepublic enemy #1

She sets the plate down on your desk, causing a wave of delicious aroma to fill the air. The smell wafts towards you, distracting you momentarily from the chaos happening on the screen.

You jump when you turn your head and see Jenna standing there, a smile on her face. Your eyes widen as you shut off your camera. "I'm live!" You say, forgetting that your stream can hear you. Jenna's eyes widen.

You two have been dating for quite a while, but you didn't tell anyone about your relationship.

"Do you think they saw me?" Jenna asks, her voice filled with concern. You shake your head before shrugging, "I don't know, baby. Shit, this is my fault. I should've told you I was live."

A donation rings through, catching both of your attention. You glance at the screen to see a message from a viewer, "Uhhh...the mic is on. Anyways, hi Jenna!" Jenna's face flushes with embarrassment as she realizes that your viewers heard everything.

Your jaw drops, and you decide to turn the camera back on again since it seems like the damage has already been done. You take a deep breath and address the viewers, "Well, I guess there's no hiding it now. Yes, Jenna and I are dating."

Jenna looks at you nervously, unsure of how the viewers will react. You continue, "We wanted to keep it private for a while, but that was kind of difficult." Jenna sits on your lap, waving at the camera. "Hi, everyone." You chuckle nervously, trying to ease the tension.

"We hope you all understand why we wanted to keep it quiet," you add, trying to reassure both Jenna and the audience. "But we also didn't want to hide something that makes us so happy." The viewers' reactions start pouring in, a mix of surprise, support, and curiosity.

Curiosity also makes its way to your and your girlfriend's faces as your Sims start to Woo-hoo in the hot tub. "Is...that us?" Jenna asks, her eyes widening with a smirk playing on her lips. You cover your face with your hands.

"Ain't no way, bruh." You mumble to yourself.

Another donation rings out, "DON'T ACT LIKE YALL WASN'T DOING THAT SAME STUFF LAST NIGHT. WE SEEN THE HICKEY!"

"AIN'T NO WAY!" You shout dramatically, causing Jenna to burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hand to muffle the sound.

#reader insert #jenna ortega #wattpad #jenna ortega x reader #tonyspank #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna x g!p reader #jenna ortega x g!p reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x gn!reader #jenna ortega x male reader #jenna x reader #jenna x y/n #jenna ortega imagine #streamer!reader

1K notes · View notes

nouvxllev · 2 months

Note

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

a flight away

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: ^^ request!!!

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: bittersweet

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

masterlist

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

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

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

Obviously, you panicked out of your fucking mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart sank.

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

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

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

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

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

On top of everything, you blamed yourself.

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

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

Now all you can think about are her restless nights.

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

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

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

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

Shit, her head hurts.

Hammering, actually.

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

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

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

Worst of all, she was missing someone. Horribly.

You.

Not just you, but everything of you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Isn't that a slight bit unprofessional?

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

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

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

"Wait, but—!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because the silhouette looked exactly like you.

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

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

Holy shit.

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

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

It was you.

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

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

It was her home. At last.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You cried?"

"Without you? Terribly so."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x female reader #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega

503 notes · View notes