#crazyoffher

[crazyoffher]

HDMI.

warnings: smut drabble -> dom!jenna, sub!r

-

“Fucking spilling all over the sheets, mm? Drenching up a bed that doesn’t even belong to you,” the rasp that laid in Jenna’s voice, mixed with the sweetly rough thrusts that she was giving you, a hand on your head pushing your face into the pillow, you called it heaven. “The rage that’ll reek out of your ex when he finds out I made you cum, over and over, on his bed.”

The appaling idea alone left you drenched, brain rotted when Jenna fixed the strap further into your gaping cunt and left you moaning into the pillow, saliva drenching your sweating face. A moan hurled out of your mouth, gagging and mumbling incoherently as Jenna shoved two fingers into your mouth. “Keep quiet, baby. Don’t want our friends to hear, right? You know they’re just a wall away from us.”

You nodded your head, fighting hard against the moans that itched to come out the more Jenna thrusted into you, one hand on your head keeping your face down, and the other gripped against your hip, keeping your ass up and all ready just for her. The arch on your back grew; the shrewdness of the situation made you the horniest you’d ever been, and you relished in it.

A large gasp escaped your throat when Jenna’s hand closed in on your hair, pulling your head up as she bent over your frame. “Let me see you, let me see that beautiful face.” Her hand snaked over your face to grip your chin and turn your head, bruising your face the longer she held on. “Such a dirty girl, my dirty girl. You understand that?”

Her head rested against yours while she held her knees up slightly, taking advantage of the new angle to bury her entire strap into you and thrust harder. “You’re all mine. Only I can use you for what you really are,” and if possible, her grip on your chin became even harsher, “a dirty fucking cockwhore.”

She worked quick. She always did. That left you no time to react as she pulled out, flipping you over and attaching one hand to your neck and the other back into your hair. Your legs locked on her waist, just above her thighs and shaking as Jenna pushed her strap back into your throbbing hole. A high-pitched whine left your drooling mouth from the restriction of air, eyes screwing shut when the roughness and fast pace of her thrusts returned.

You made eye contact, Jenna’s favorite thing to do when you were under her—second to spitting on your face and thumbing it all around—because it allowed her to see your face, the reactions you gave off to her making you feel so good. That glint in your eyes, one that you always had, let her know that she was the only one that would ever get the pleasure of fucking you the way you loved it.

“You’re getting close, aren’t you? I can see it on that pretty face, baby.” You nodded your head, eyes rolling back at the pain Jenna inflicted by roughly pulling your head back by your hair. She burrowed the strap deeper into your cunt thrust by thrust, taking the head out momentarily to rub against your untouched clit before sending your body back into shockwaves.

“Mmm, only you can make me feel so good.” Your voice was scratchy, given Jenna’s hand placement, but it didn’t stop you from giving her what she wanted to hear. “Only me?”

“Only you.” Your hands made their way to her shoulders, nails digging into her smooth skin because you could feel yourself on the edge. “Make me cum? Can I come?”

The grin she sent your way ran shivers down your spine. “Not yet, baby. Hold on for me.” Her hand left your neck to slap against your mouth, muffling the loud moans extracted from you when she thrusted faster and impossibly harder. Holding back became harder for you, and your eyes pleaded at her for some sake of mercy. Jenna cocked her head to the side, giving you a smug smile before removing her hand and kissing your swollen lips with the same passion that sent your mind spiraling on normal days.

She granted you the words you wanted to hear, and the words that she loved for the sake of her control over you. “Cum all over my cock, baby.” She locked your lips again as you finally untensed, moaning into her mouth and digging your nails down her back as that final wave of ecstasy washed over you. Your thighs were soaked, manuevering to hold Jenna’s face in your palms as she gave you one more kiss.

“Look at the mess you made, all over me and these sheets, hon.” She pushed your weakened body up against the headboard of the bed, and you got a visual of how much of a mess you had created. “‘Cause I make you feel so good, yeah?”

“Yes, Jen.” You reached forward to lock into another kiss, shoulders tensing when her bony hands ran up your face and fisting a ball of your hair into her palm.

“Now clean it all up.”

☟

hey guys :p

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #smut #jenna ortega x reader smut #jenna ortega smut #mabel x reader #wednesday addams x reader #tara carpenter x reader #fanfiction #jenna ortega drabble #jenna ortega x fem!reader #drabble #crazyoffher #lesbian

[retromanic]

my two fav juices be like:

wtf does she drink then???????? 😭

#crazyoffher asks

[baddestbittyontheblock]

billie eilish fic recs

you are responsible for the content you consume‼️

✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

 ̽𖧧 ָ࣪ bubble bath by @fictionalwh0ree billie eilish x reader | smut(fingering)

-after a long and frustrating day at work, billie knows exactly how to help you relax.

 ̽𖧧 ָ࣪ jealousy by @fictionalwh0ree billie eilish x reader | smut(fingering, use of vibrator)

-even though you're strictly friends with benefits, that doesn't stop you from feeling jealous when billie talks to other girls.

 ̽𖧧 ָ࣪ goodnight kisses by @juneberrie billie eilish x reader | kisses obviously, fem!reader, literally just a ton of fluff

-billie comes home to see you still awake

 ̽𖧧 ָ࣪ imbecile by @crazyoffher billie eilish x reader | smut (18+) — oral (r receiving), strap-on, dirty talk, jealousy, men, dom!b and sub!r, roughness, slight begging, slight angst

-billie's lack of attention toward you causes you to meet with a guy who tries to seduce you. then, does she finally give you attention.

 ̽𖧧 ָ࣪ feels like forever by ^ billie eilish x fem!reader | mentions of overworking, fluff

-despite accompanying billie on her world tour, you didn't see her much, and it's up to you to express your concern about her overworking.

 ̽𖧧 ָ࣪ attention by @eilishsluv billie eilish x fem!reader | arguing, hickies, kissing

-billie had stopped giving you the attention she used to which lead to you overthinking & so an argument

 ̽𖧧 ָ࣪ my sweet girl by ^ billie eilish x reader | smut is implied (obviously) after care

 ̽𖧧 ָ࣪ headcannons about dating billie by ^ billie eilish x fem!reader

-dating billie

 ̽𖧧 ָ࣪ long day by ^ billie eilish x fem!reader | kissing

-billie came home super tired and just wanted you

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish smut #fic recs #billie eilish imagine #celebrity imagine #fic rec

[wesstars]

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

[ajortga]

hey guys, lowkey kind of bored and i've been reading a lot of fics, you know when you're on that grind and go through all your likes and read the most smuttiest or angiest or fluffiest stories, yeah.

okay so, if you're struggling for what or who to read from for jenna ortega and her character's fics, here are some of my most recommended users:

first up, the first ever series i've ever read that i've feel in love and obsessed over with is @rollingsins all her series, omg. i started reading so many fics after that and literally one of the most talented in my head. IF YOU NEVER READ ALL HERS OR THREES A CROWD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? literally all hers has changed my days around and has to be one of the best gf! tara series to have ever exist.

-@bingwriterxo, also one of the first writers to ever be encountered with, omg, her imagines on wattpad, i read them like every other day and her stories are so good for crying, binging, and such good angst and smut. i think i read like all her imagines in one day. HIGHLY recommend her shakespeare exhibit tara series.

-@wol-fica, OKAY, if i were to tell the truth, i read their stories almost every 2 days, they have such good drabbles for each jenna ortega story, and i personally love their fics because they are so fluffy or smutty. please check them out, they have me kicking my feet

-@melrodrigo, FIRST OF all LOVE TARDY SERIES, second of all, they have the same name as me, like crying, i have a name twin. THEIR DRABBLES ARE SO SO CUTE.

-@persevereforahappyending, absolutely so talented, i read their tara series he hung up and this isn't your fault so much, please go check them out, i love their work so so much

-@void-wolfie, ONE OF THE BEST ANGST JENNA ORTEGA STORIES HANDS DOWN. i honestly think that she captures emotions so so well when shes writing, like i can physically feel my chest go down during her stories.

-@crazyoffher, they have amazing works, captures emotions so well, i love the watchtower series.

-@tonyspank, by far amazing writer and works, i love their series, read their series pls, literally such good smut.

-@jazzyoranges, LOVE her writing, writing skills are immaculate, amazing work and is so good for if you're looking for angsty or smutty stories, cried when reading one of them and has such good writing skills, has the ability to make u feel goosebumps.

-@marvelfilth, if you're in the mood for some good smut, literally her works are perfect

-@writing-rat, so many writings to choose from and posts almost so frequently, i'm so grateful for fics like his

-@sorrowedpickle, HER WORKS ARE A WORK OF ART. makes your stomach do flips with her smut and writings, a lot of her posts are nestled safely in my like section.

-@the-oblivious-writer, LITERALLY ONE OF THE BEST WRITERS OF SERIES FOR JENNA, i highly recommend let the light in, i've read that so many times, love love love, i've been head over heels for that series.

@toournextadventure, AHH, i love his movie night series, makes me feel like im floating, check out his one shots too!

--

im honestly missing so many people, but these are such talented writers, please don't hesitate to recommend more in my inbox, but PLEASE check these amazing authors out, their works are amazing.

--

#vada cavell x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #tara carpenter x you #vada cavell x y/n

[melrodrigo]

do you have any fic writers you recommend ? i’m looking for some tara fics but ive read a lot and i’d be down to read other jo characters :) im rlly struggling w the lack of updates over here </3

ME TOO there have been no good fics lately but i’ll recommend u my top top writers (if u haven’t alr seen em)

obviously @rollingsins w all hers, the best tara series ever

the lovely lovely @wesstars a good friend of mine and an amazing writer

@toournextadventure (i especially love our little secret and movie night)

also idk @crazyoffher very well but their writing is AMAZING (i love watch tower)

@house-of-lovin’s fics get me EVERY time

annnnd if u want an abundance of wednesday fics then @sleepinthrumyalarms

and obviously, obviously @bingwriterxo although i’m sure everyone that follows me also followers her, my lil pookie bear

#ask #fic recs #i love my mutuals

[tonyspank]

fav writers?

@jjsmaybank20

@sorrowedpickle

@crazyoffher

@jazzsonly

@wol-fica

so many more but i’m in the middle of eating and i just wanna pick up my burrito again

#anon message #tonyspank

[myfavoriteficss]

Wednesday Masterlist

This Masterlist includes all of the Wednesday fan fiction I have reblogged. Enjoy.

Updated: 12/30/2023

Masterpost

1. Wednesday Addams

Written by: @anonymousewrites

A Good Day for Death: (1) A Good Day for Roommates - (2) A Good Day for Plans - (3) A Good Day for Festivals - (4) A Good Day for Death - (5) A Good Day for Strategy - (6) A Good Day for Competition - (7) A Good Day for Fudge - (8) A Good Day for Ruins - (9) A Good Day for Statues - (10) A Good Day for Shopping - (11) A Good Day for Dances - (12) A Good Day for Family - (13) A Good Day for Birthdays - (14) A Good Day for Arguments - (15) A Good Day for Diaries - (16) A Good Day for Apologies - (17) A Good Day for Death - (18) A Good Day for Resurrection - (19) A Good Day for Until Next Times

Valentines Day Special 2023

A Good Day for Death Pride Special 2023

A Good Day for Death Halloween Special 2023

Written by: @basichextechml

(1) Details - (2) Revelations

Wet Braids and Ribbon Ties

The Leaded Question

The Beat of your Heart (The Cry of my Own)

Did You Want Flowers?

Written by: @breaddwoo

(1) Bloody Kisses - (2) Smitten - (3) Vanilla

Written by: @brotherblaze

Double Black: Part 1 - Part 2

Written by: @celiastjamesoscar

To Be Alone

Like Real People Do

Written by: @chaeyoungies

Slipping Through My Fingers

Written by: @crazyoffher

paranoid.

Written by: @danzaloreley

Indée Fixe

Written by: @dysphoros​

(1) Who are you now, You fool? - (2) Beauty Is in the eyes of the beholder

Interview with a vampire: (1) Interview with a Vampire - (2) Hunger - (3) Resfeber - (4) Dissimulate

What are my lips for if to not meet yours?

Written by: @extinctspino

Teamwork

Written by: @fleetingvow

‘ Bitter Solitude.

Written by: @ghostlynachopanda

(1) Nevermore’s Guardian - (2) Warmth - (3) The Weathervane - (4) The Walk - (5) The Talk - (6) Solution

Marks: Part 1 - Part 2

Till Next Time: Part 1 - Part 2

Patch Up

Like a Charm

Kiss

Study Date

Close

For You

Envy

Hurtful Words

Third Wheel

Rest

jacket

Music

Written by: @house-of-lovin

grouch

be mine?

cuddle bug

Written by: @i984

(1) I Want to be Yours - (2) Finally Hers

(1) Sweet Words Make a Lovely Shade - (2) A Scarlet Touch - (3) Not So Peachy of a Trick - (4) My Thoughts Echoing Your Name

Ran Out of Paper

Festival Trouble

Grump Black Cat

Your Love, My Religion

Dreams of Lavender Confessions

I Love You- Wait, What?

Snowy Escape

Blazing Promises

Sweet, Foolish

A Letter to the Yearning Moon

Wounds, Not Dreams

In Sickness and In Health

Tonight, the Moon is Yours

Mattress Laid, No Questions Asked

Written by: @jazzyoranges

Recognizable

Written by: @liminal-space-lesbian

Summer Concussions

Written by: @lowkeyerror

Falling Fast: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Epilogue

Written by: @lucianslover

10 Things I Hate About You

Written by: @luthorgarbage

Wednesday’s Web: One

Written by: @makncheese12

Alkaline: Part 1 - Part 2

Written by: @may-fanfic

Safe With You

Written by: @midnightmoonkiss

Sweet Dreams.

Written by: @mikavlcs

(1) Reverie - (2) Elysium

Loveless

Paralysis

Heaven in Hiding

Had Enough

Ricochet

Absence Persistent

Breathe

Flowers

Heaven in Hiding

Sweater Weather

Static Patterns

Spotlight

Heaven Sent

White Flag

Astraphobia

Dinosaur Talks

Whispers in the Dark

Rebels and Renegades

Dog Days

Not On My Mind

Written by: @missmonsters2

Wednesday’s Dictionary of Emotions: (1) Adronitis - (2) Monachopsis - (3) Jouska - (4) Opia - (5) Agnothesia - (6) Liberosis - (7) Flashover - (8) Nighthawk - (9) Ambedo - (10) Kairosclerosis - (O.S) First/Second Date Jitters - (O.S) Want Your Slow Dance

Just Last Lifetime: One - Two

Oblivion

Just Like Silk

Lips Over Your Nightmares

Written by: @mrtwizz

Snow On The Beach: Part One - Part Two - Part Three

Written by: @msgorillagripcoochie

(1) Nonsense - (2) Butterflies in my stomach

Written by: @rainbow-hedgehog

Exchange Student

Written by: @sleepinthrumyalarms

(1) To Tame a Demon - (2) The Perfect Girl 

Protective Instincts

Your Teeth Don’t Scare Me

Weird But Lovely Trophies

Daddy Issues

After Dark

Good Little Girl

Hard to Keep my Cool

Kiss It Better

Loving the beast, loving it whole

Their Affair, Bloody

Written by: @softgreengrass

Sun to Me: Part 1 - Part 2

Covert Narcissism

Written by: @spaghettiposts

Video Games

Written by: @specialagentlokitty

Restore the Balance: Part One - Part Two - Part Three

Soft For You

Never Again

Just a Tiny Hint

Written by: @stirthewaters

Too Sharp to Touch: Part 1

Written by: @talesofesther​

Scorch Marks: Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Sweet Calamity: Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - (O.S) Pretty Secrets - Chapter 10 - (O.S) Birthday Girl 

Don't Know How to be Something You Miss: Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

(1) I told the moon about you - (2) Darling darkness

Yours Only

Deep Devotion

Crimson and White

Cinnamon and Spice

The Hearts that Matches Mine

Dark Trees are Better

Find the Beauty

Golden Ballads

Love the Way You Love Me

Tender as the Rain

I guess that's love

Written by: @theunreliablewriter

Clumsy Defender

Written by: @toddxhavez

My Eyes

Written by: @toournextadventure

Everyone But Her: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 - Part 26 - Part 27 - Part 28 - Part 29 - Part 30 - Part 31 - Part 32 - Part 33 - Part 34 - (O.S) The Cave (18+) - Part 32 - (O.S) They Didn't Know - (O.S) A Fair Trade - (O.S) Revenge - Part 33 - Part 34 - Part 35 - Part 36 - Part 37 - Part 38

Would You Love Me?

you simp

l’appel du vide

we match

im no poet

Trouble Maker

Written by: @vorsdany

When I Dream (Of Dying): (1) (Not So) Colorful Buzz - (2) Watch Out! - (3) Freeze! You’re on Fire - (4) Good, Bad Impressions - (5) Harmonious Danger - (6) When I Dream (Of Dying)

Golden Eyes and Melted Hearts

Violescent

Meant To Be (Alone)

Shots For They Heart

Names On Your Tongue

Ink Over Your Soul 

Take Me Home 

Sea of Stars

Nights Like These

A Luminous Jewel

Bloody Woes

A Vexatious Creature

Warm My Frozen Heart

Just This Once

Of Dying Days

Written by: @vulpe-fox

Where Shadows Meet

Shadow’s Keeper

Written by: @wandaromanova

enigma.

never did.

obvious

Written by: @ykiwrite

Kiss of Death

Written by: @70svampyr

Wednesday Addams Relationship! Headcanons

2. Enid Sinclair

Written by: @specialagentlokitty

Peace With You

Protect You

Not Getting Hurt That Easy

Written by: @toournextadventure

Thunder and Lightning

3. Yoko Tanaka

Written by: @euoniaroses

Jealous? Please,

Written by: @mrsfrenchie

Touch

#masterlist #wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #dom’s recommendations #enid sinclair #enid sinclair x reader

[bingwriterxo]

normal anons > weird anons the feet stuff was lowk funny but definitely more weird 😭

also i hope you enjoyed my story:) (@crazyoffher)

my anons have become a little unhinged

also I LOVED UR STORY IT MADE ME SO SAD PLS MAKE A PART 2 THANKS (no pressure lol)

#ask

[crazyoffher]

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

[crazyoffher]

IMPULSE ADRIFT.

warnings: none.

-

Sometimes you wondered what was wrong with you, and on the downlow, Jenna did too. Although she never minded your physicality. In fact, the more you did it, the more she yearned for it whenever you were near.

You had an addiction, to say the least. Not to drugs, alcohol, or even sex, but to the skin and bones that belonged to none other than your girlfriend. More specifically, her hands.

Left the apartment? Your hand was linked with Jenna’s.

Out to eat with friends? Hands were still linked together, settled beneath the table and out of sight.

Lazy day, maybe watching television together or lying in bed? Nothing changes.

Even at the end of the night, when the two of you are cuddled up in bed, awaiting sleep to take you both, your back is to her front and her arms are wrapped around you. That was the same position the two of you found yourselves in every night you were together, because neither of you liked unnecessary change.

Jenna preferred holding you before quickly falling asleep, and you preferred being held by the one you loved most while trying your hardest to stay awake in her warm embrace. It was because, unbeknownst to her, you would wait until she was asleep to engage in a small act of love.

When you would hear the faint snores that she would produce once in dreamland, you would move her hand that sat on your waist to hold them. You’d press light kisses to each finger as a symbol of your love for her, even if she wasn’t conscious.

You were always the first to awaken, and a burst of energy would radiate within you. A form of energy that only existed when Jenna was around. If she was off filming in a different country, you’d just sulk in bed for over an hour after waking up, counting the days until she returned to you before ultimately getting up in a mood.

A part of the energy you’d feel every morning consisted of wiggling your way out of your girlfriend’s grip and pressing a light kiss to her forehead before making her favorite breakfast, turning into housewife mode, and serving it to her in bed. You would not even have to wake her up; she could smell the hints of her favorite breakfast dish, accompanied by small cups of water and orange juice, from the closed bedroom door and all the way down the hallway. 

She deserved more than you could ever give her, but you tried your best, and she loved that aspect of you.

“Good morning, my love,” is what you would say each morning when you walked into the room, food in hand, and watched Jenna rub her eyes. You’d set the food down on the nightstand next to her and crawl up to peck her forehead in the same spot you had when first awakening, followed by a kiss on the lips that Jenna would sleepily reciprocate.

She adored every routine the two of you had unintentionally set in place. It made her feel like your relationship was calm and organized, and it gave her a sense of relief she had once desperately searched for.

The periods the two of you had together were short, as movie role upon movie role stacked their way into Jenna’s calendar, but you made her forget about the upcoming stress she’d feel. You were there with her in the moment, and you were the only thing keeping her from breaking down due to the negativity of social media and her perfectionism, which was her mortal enemy at times.

You’d shamelessly cry whenever you said goodbye to her at the airport, because why feel shame over bidding farewell to the one you loved most for what felt like the thousandth time? Because of her continuous schedule, you’d sometimes not see her for months upon months, once going a whole year without seeing her because she had filmed two movies back-to-back. You’d always force yourself to remember the last action you’d give her—a kiss to the palm of her hand—and it gave you a sense of security knowing, despite the distance, you were still hers at the end of the day.

And just like you always did, you’d catch Jenna in your arms when she’d return from filming, feeling a growing wet patch imbed into your shoulder from her tears. You’d hold her tight at that moment, and you’d press a kiss to her palm once the two of you calmed down, in the same exact spot you had kissed her when she left you.

When you were together, you couldn’t go a day without kissing her, and you’d die if you went a whole day without even a brush of your fingers. Holding each other, whether hands or bodies, was a key part of your relationship, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

☟ ☟ ☟

taglist: @grandpatrolnut @annalestern @yara124 @daryldixonsw1fe @alexkolax @red1culous @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @idkwimdtbh

#crazyoffher #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams #celebrity x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #wattpad #jenna marie ortega #vada cavell #phoebe atwell #lorraine day #lesbian

[crazyoffher]

IMBECILE.

summary: billie's lack of attention toward you causes you to meet with a guy who tries to seduce you. then, does she finally give you attention.

warnings: smut (18+) — oral (r receiving), strap-on, dirty talk, jealousy, men, dom!b and sub!r, roughness, slight begging, slight angst, my writing.

word amount: 2900+

a/n: two posts in one day lesss gooooooo

“Baby, I think we should go.” You nudged Billie, who sat beside you and was too engrossed in her conversation with Claudia and Marinelli to have noticed your tired expression earlier. She turned to hear the sound of your voice, and you noticed how her eyes drooped slightly as well.

The party was a celebration event for one of Billie’s mutual friends from around four years prior, and you originally didn’t want to go. Maybe it was because of the dating rumors between Billie and this friend of hers at the time, but you blamed it on the lack of sleep due to your harsh job. Billie had begged you to accompany her, though, promising to leave around 11 p.m., but it was 1 a.m. and she was still sitting around the couch with her hand on your thigh.

“Ten minutes, please.” She begged you, ignoring your need for sleep as you had to go to work around seven hours later. You were ready to respond when Marinelli tapped on her shoulder, presumably to get her attention again, and she didn’t wait for an answer before indulging herself in the conversation she was previously in.

You sighed, your eyes drooping a little bit, and you knew that the earliest you’d be leaving was thirty minutes, not ten. Seeing a hand wave at you through your peripherals, you tilted your head to see Finneas waving you over from the barside, a drink set off to the side for you.

You moved Billie’s hand from your thigh, the girl seemingly not noticing, and you made your way over to Finneas, eyeing him tilt the drink toward the edge of the bar. You gave him a smile. “Love ‘ya, Finn.”

“Anything for my future sister-in-law.” You pushed his shoulder, taking the cup that was filled with ginger ale and wasting half the cup in one gulp. Bartenders and their ridiculous amounts of ice. “You tired?’

“A little bit,” you hovered your index finger over your thumb, giving him a visual to which he laughed at, “but Billie wants to talk to Marinelli and Claudia more, so I’m trying my hardest to not pass out.”

“I can give you a ride home if you want. Billie’s clearly not taking your own needs into mind.” Finneas offered. You waved him off, telling him it was fine and that you would just… sleep at your desk at work, finishing off the ginger ale and asking the bartender for a glass of water.

You and Finneas talked for a little, maybe five minutes, before he was hit in the head with a pingpong ball on purpose, a couple of his friends trying to catch his attention to get him to play. He turned to you, teeth flashing in a smile to try and get your permission to go, to which you just pushed him off the stool and he left you alone.

You loved Billie’s smile—a happy glint in her eye as she laughed at something Claudia said—but your admiration was disrupted when someone tapped you on the shoulder. Turning, you saw a man, 5’10 in height and dressed in all brown, giving you a smile and a tooth gem sitting on one of his front teeth. “Hey, pretty girl.”

He sat by you to your dismay, deciding not to retaliate at his comment. You were never good at dealing with guys (or girls) flirting with you; Billie usually handled it for you with an arm around the waist or a kiss to the cheek. “You’re dating Billie, yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“Well,” he turned his head, eyeing Billie and seeing her engrossed in a conversation, “she’s not looking, and I think you’re pretty fine. What do you say to me and you in the upstairs bathroom? It’s pretty big and soundproofed, if you know what I mean.” He sent you a wink, and the urges to throw up on him and throw your cup at him met together in your mind.

“I think I’m good.” You scooted away from him slightly, but he only moved his bar stool closer toward you. The bartender delivered your water, but you didn’t want to drink it anymore. “You sure, girl? I mean,” he said, planting his hand on your thigh, in the same position Billie had her hand on, “I can give you the pleasure; I’m almost positive Billie doesn’t give you any-”

“Says who?” You flinched at the familiar voice, whipping your head behind you to see Billie sending the man a death glare. “You don’t know shit, Markus. Come on.” She grabbed hold of your upper arm in a fierce grip, pulling you out of the bar stool and out of the house entirely. Her decency was still there in her mind to open the passenger door for you, but not enough decency as she slammed it shut in rage.

“Billie-”

“No.” She said it simply, her voice awfully calm, and you wouldn’t have thought she was so mad if she didn’t have smoke fuming out of her ears. The drive home was silent. You had decided not to try to talk to her because it would only break out into a major argument.

“Why didn’t you tell him to fuck off? Go and fucking chop his hand off of your thigh?” Her voice rang in your ears as you made it home, walking up the steps to the front door, when you heard the venom that swam through her tone.

“Don’t you go and start blaming me for this.” You fought off her words, or at least tried to. “None of this would’ve happened if you just kept your promise, and we would’ve left two hours ago! But no, it’s fucking one a.m. and you decided to not care about my needs—shit, Billie, I have to leave for work in five hours!”

“Get inside.” She demanded, ultimately shoving you inside the house when you decided not to do what she said. She turned on the light that was beside the front door, illuminating the front of the house and parts of the living room as well. “Don’t you touch me like-”

“Take off your clothes.” The finger you pointed in her direction dropped, and your eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“Take off your clothes. I’m not gonna ask again.” Billie was already undressing, hanging her coat on the rack beside the door, and unbuttoning the dress shirt that you had requested she wear. Her hands traveled to her belt, unbuckling the leather fabric, and it was then that you snapped out of your trance. 

“No,” you hardly ever said no to her, and you said it for good reason. You were definitely into rough sex with Billie—more into it than anything else—but you knew that the more mature route was to talk out her rage, not fuck it out.

You knew you were right. Still, you couldn’t hold back the moan that left your mouth when Billie got you up against the wall. Her hand dug into your pants and underwear, her thumb slowly circling your clit with pressure that’d have you on the edge if she were to rub faster.

“No? Say that one more time for me, baby, and I’ll stop.” The hand that wasn’t cupped around your heat was unbuttoning your jeans button, giving her hand more mobility and allowing her fingers to dip down to your entrance. The tips of her fingers brushed against your hole, and you grinded against her hand in an attempt to get her to properly finger you.

“I’m not hearing you, love.”

“Don’t, d-don’t stop,” You stuttered out, your hands meeting her waist while you grinded into her hand. A smirk slithered it’s way onto her face, her index finger circling around your hole, making you whine out. She grabbed your hand from her waist and planted it against her crotch, your senses alerting you that she had a strap-on.

“You’ve had that on all night?” You met Billie’s gaze, immediately shrinking at how dark her look was. A smirk still sat on her face, and she licked her lips when you started to rub the silicone against your palm. 

“I planned on fucking you to sleep, but oh god, this is so much better. Isn’t it?” Her lips met yours, her hand leaving yours that was keen on rubbing her bulge and gripping the back of your neck, pulling you deeper into her as her movements on your clit fastened. You were a moaning mess, the sounds muffled by Billie’s tongue shoved into your mouth as she redirected the two of you to the couch, not once breaking contact.

You broke contact when Billie pushed you onto the couch. Her touch was more gentle compared to before, but you knew she still had steam to blow off. She settled in between your legs, her tongue licking at your hip while her hands moved to take off your jeans, her tongue moving down your right leg the further she took the fabric off of you.

The sight of you biting your lip, trying not to beg her while looking at her with doe eyes and your mouth agape, was something she would never tire of seeing. “You never fail to look so pretty—all mine and never anyone else’s.” Her voice contorted into a slight growl at the end, seemingly remembering why you were now submissive to her on the couch.

Despite the heat of the situation you found yourself in, a light blush tinted your cheeks at her praises, finding them sweet even if she was about to fuck your brains out.

“Now,” she crawled up slightly, her head inches away from your core and her hands gripping your hips where the hems of your underwear were, “I’ll show you the pleasure that fuckhead thinks I can’t give you, yeah?” You nodded vigorously, the two sharp, fang-like teeth that were biting down into your lip starting to draw blood as you waited for her.

Billie sat up, her ass resting on the balls of her feet as she took your underwear off, mouth salivating at the sight of your glistening core even in the slight darkness. Usually, she’d tease you and make you beg for her to put her tongue on your clit, but tonight she was too impatient and dove straight in.

Your hand flew to her hair, grabbing a bunch of it as you let out a rather loud moan at the feeling of Billie licking up and down your folds, the pressure of her tongue hardening as she’d flick over your clit. “Fuck!”

She removed her tongue from your clit, and you let out a distressed whine before letting out a shocked moan at the feeling of her thumb rubbing fast circles on your clit. Her tongue moved to your hole, licking around the area, making you buck your hips up against her face. You knew she was using her saliva as lubrication for the silicone, but it didn’t make the feeling any less pleasurable.

“Mmph, oh…” She ran her tongue over your entrance one more time before spitting on the area, and you’d hate to admit how hot the sight of that was. Your hips bucked up once more as she removed both her tongue and fingers from you, but you didn’t whine because you knew what was coming.

Billie pushed herself up on her elbows, leaning forward to capture you in a harsh kiss, and you could feel her hand travel to the silicone cock she had, not even aware she had taken her pants off. “Be a good girl for me and take all of it, okay?” She asked when her lips left yours, and you nodded with wider eyes than before while your teeth found your bottom lip again.

She crowded her face into your neck, bruisingly sucking on an area to make a hickey while she lined herself up against you. She bit your neck when she thrust her hips forward, filling you with half of the silicone, and you let out a pornographic (though true) moan at the feeling of the girthy, long cock stuffing into you.

“Shit, shit! Faster, please go faster.” You begged her; any self respect you had for yourself was thrown out the window when Billie thrust herself completely into you. Her attack on your neck continued while pumping in and out of you, starting out slow for your own sake but getting the memo to move faster when you hungrily humped against her cock, a desperate search for pleasure ensuing. 

She bit, nipped, licked, and sucked around the area on your neck before letting go with a pop, her eyes narrowing at the sight of a large, purple hickey right above your pulse point. She met your lips once more, and you barely kissed back from the daze you found yourself in, Billie’s hips now rocking back and forth impossibly fast.

“Oh, fuck. Look at you all wet and tight around me. My girl.” Billie purred, now sitting up on her knees, allowing her to capture your entire body in her line of sight. Your breasts jumped heavenly against the thin fabric of your shirt, and your head was thrown back, mouth open, because how else could you be letting out the moans that filled Billie’s ears better than any piece of music ever could?

“Shit!” You flung your head forward, strands of hair sticking to your face from sweat, and watched as Billie’s silicone moved in and out of you with ease. That feeling you knew all too well, one where a coil in your stomach was burning, had returned. With every thrust, you felt it was going to snap, and soon.

“God, how I’d love to add this sight of you,” Billie bent over slightly, her hand grazing your cheek and tilting your head to look up at her, “to my collection. How I’d love nothing more than to masturbate to a video of you writhing underneath me when I’m fucking you just like this.”

Billie videotaping the two of you being intimate wasn’t an uncommon experience, but she didn’t do it all the time. You allowed her to do it when she first asked you, and the sight of you in that moment, breasts on display and bouncing while your hair was messed up and covering your forehead, was a sight that Billie wanted to savor. And savor, she did that time, and another time, and another.

She originally brought the idea up because she missed you more than anything while on tour, meaning she missed your body and how you looked underneath her as well. So, when it was close to midnight and her brother and mother were out, she’d pull up the collection she made of you in her photos, and she’d happily finger herself at a video of you sucking off her silicone or getting rammed by it.

She stuck her thumb into your mouth, which you happily sucked on, biting down on it when you felt Billie hit that sweet, spongy spot inside of you. She groaned at the feeling of your teeth clenching around her finger because she was fucking you too well, and she could tell you were close to releasing when you started twitching.

“I know you’re close, baby, am I right?” Billie grabbed your left leg, pushing it up and over her ankle, allowing her to fuck you deeper and harder. You gasped around her finger, eagerly nodding at her words. You moved your right hand to brush the hair out of your face, holding yourself up slightly to watch as Billie slammed the silicone cock in and out of you with ease.

“Billie—fuck! I’m gonna cum; can I cum?” Desperation was more than evident in your voice, and you had been teased and forced to beg one too many times to the point where it was instinctive to ask for permission. Billie only grinned, resting the side of her face against your leg that was on her shoulder while she fucked into you, her eyes darkening as you held eye contact with her. “Billie, please!”

You felt the vibrations of her laugh travel throughout your leg, and you found yourself struggling to hold off the release you desperately wanted. With a bite of her lip, her eyes explored throughout your body, starting from her hips driving into yours up to your face, impatience clear in your narrowed eyes.

“You’ve been good. Cum for me, baby.” That was the only agreement you needed to loosen up, your orgasm hitting you hard from the delay, having you shaking and twitching under Billie. She pumped slowly in and out of you to help you ride out your orgasm, her mouth salivating at the white substance that coated her silicone. She ran her index finger through your wet pussy before taking the collected cum and putting it into her mouth, sucking off your sweet juices considering pineapple was your favorite fruit.

With her adrenaline running out, Billie fell on top of you, her hands holding your waist while yours dug back into her hair, this time softly scratching her scalp. The silicone cock was still inside of you, and every slight movie Billie made had you twitching slightly, though you weren’t horny anymore.

With a yawn, you rested your head back on the couch, letting out content breaths. “You think I should call out of work today?”

“If I can keep you like this,” Billie’s arms fully wrapped themselves around your waist, her face burying into the cloth of your shirt, “then definitely.”

☟ ☟ ☟

(billie) taglist: @grandpatrolnut @annalestern @rhythm-catsandwine @jennas-10

#crazyoffher #celebrity x reader #billie eilish #wattpad #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x you #finneas #finneas o’connell #happier than ever #wwafawdwg #dont smile at me #fanfiction #fake scenario #jealousy #fiction #fictional work #celebrity #singer #lgbtq #lesbian

[crazyoffher]

COLLAPSE IN THE KEY OF FIREWORKS.

lorraine day x fem!reader

summary: growing up in rural texas circa 1979 wouldn't have been so hard if you didn't have an attraction to your best friend.

warnings: eventual smut. - mentions of homophobia, canine injury, religion / religious rebellion, paragraph mention of suicide (in a joking manner), umm that's it i think.

word amount: 4100+

a/n: not really sure how i feel about this. sorry for the long wait </3

You loved her, and you wanted to express it more than anything in the world, even if it meant being condemned to the sins your father warned you of.

You wanted her, and the feeling was more than likewise, but you just couldn’t have her.

The realization did not take you forever to realize—your feelings for her, anyway. You knew that you wanted to drown in her gaze, love, smile, and soul the day you laid eyes on her in the back of that stone-cold silver pickup truck. It was a present given to your brother, the eldest, from your father the day he had completed his required service as a missionary, and the first thing that hick-of-a-man did was throw you over his shoulder and hurl you in the back bed.

You were twelve then, lonely as can be during the summertime, before that adorable girl with a voice sweeter than anything you ever tasted crashing down into your life, quite literally.

“Holy shit!” The truck stopped abruptly, and you had to hoist yourself to the far edge of the railings to prevent yourself from flying. You cursed under your breath the words your father would smack you day and night for if said out loud, shaking your head while jumping out of the back to see your brother fast out of the driver's seat, crouching down in the front of the truck.

“The heck did you do, Aziel? Burrow over a rock, ‘cause you know Daddy will kill you if you’ve already scratched this masterpiece.”

“Not no rock, no, but a dog. Cute one at that; I’m so sorry for this.” He spoke solemnly, and you found his frame hunched over as you cornered the truck's front, petting the head of a dog that 

whined in pain. “Come on, little miss. I’ll take him to the hospital for ‘ya, just join this devil’s spawn in the bed,” he pointed to you, though your eyes were glued to the dog, “and we’ll be there in no time, alright?”

“Okay,” and it was that saccharine tone that caught your ears, head perked up to lock your gaze on a girl, quite the small one for the age that matched yours, with cute little freckles spread out across her cheeks and her eyebrows furrowed. Concern laced her voice, and her face too, for the dog that you assumed to be her pet, and you felt bad for the girl that made your heart flutter instantly at just the sight of her.

She wore shorts that rode just to the edge of her knees and a tight white top tucked inward. Your father would have dealt you well for even thinking of such an unwomanlike outfit, contrasting her choice of clothing to your pink skirt and fitted light-blue long-sleeve, your denim jacket hanging over you loosely that you clung to when the winds picked up. The girl was beauty in a jar, if that even made any sense, and you knew from the start that you wanted nobody else but her.

“Here, hold off for just one second,” you warned the girl with a tight expression, being sent a nod as your hands clung to the metal of the bed’s railings, hoisting yourself up greatly to get yourself over and into the open space. You turned the knob and let the bed’s opening fly down, lending a hand to the girl with an injured dog cradled in her arms, to which she joined you on the bed with the utmost struggle.

“I’m sorry about him, by the way." The girl’s head perked up at your voice, a bit gruff from a sickness that seemed to loom over you. “My brother. He hasn’t always been the brightest, and I’ve been juggling in my mind for the past ten minutes or so about why my Daddy decided to gift him a darn truck.”

A small smile etched her face at your words, her hand mindlessly petting the dog cradled in her arms, and a sort of glint in her eyes that you seemed to pass over. God damn, did you still hate yourself to this day for how awkward you grew to be in that moment, failing to make direct eye contact with the girl who wanted nothing but her small ‘ol doggie to be well.

Your eyes subtly lingered over her shirt, stopping abruptly at the crimson-colored stains that donned the fabric with hatred. The girl was more than aware of the stains—she could feel her shirt melting into her—but she could have cared less at that moment when her canine, whom she loved more than herself, was itching and writhing in pain.

“Here,” you got up from your spot against the metal railings, kneeling in the middle of the bed, to the girl’s confusion. “Getting stains on that shirt, yeah? Wrap this over ‘em,” and in front of her, resting in your hands, was the denim jacket that you always wore, stolen from your brother the day he left town, and with no intentions of returning it upon his arrival.

A small “thank you” left those chewed-up lips of hers, bitten and torn from her stressful mind that hoped for her dog to be alright, and you know you’d be getting on Aziel after the situation had died down and the girl was long gone. Long gone, you hoped she wouldn’t be, because you hadn’t seen a face as pretty as hers in your short lifetime, and you didn’t want to imagine how long it would be until you saw it again.

Sooner or later on that breezy day, you found yourself perched on a chair in the waiting room of an animal hospital, feet swinging to the soft guitarra tunes mixed with solid tapping noises from beside you. The girl had her finger curled, her nail hitting the wooden armrest of the chair and scratching it ever so lightly, seemingly in need of taking her mind somewhere else.

Aziel was elsewhere, outside in a small payphone box that would trigger anyone’s claustrophobia, the dirty black-wired phone clinging to his ear while his head was drawn back; you could only assume he was growing tired of your father's voice through the transmitter, berating him for his reckless actions. You almost felt bad for him.

“What if he’s dead?”

That sweet, worried voice tore you away from your brother's frame, turning to face the new-found girl whose eyes bore into your face, tears brimming at the edges of her eyes just at the thought of it, and your heart sank.

“That’s no way to think, uh..."

“Lorraine.” She answered simply, eyes never tearing from yours, and you grew mildly uncomfortable at the continuous staring. You didn’t hate it—no, of course not—but you weren’t accustomed to having a pretty girl stare at you like that.

“Well, Lorraine,” you managed to turn your head away from her, resting them back on your brother’s frame, his posture slumping as time went on. “I love him to death—my brother, I mean—but oh,” your eyebrows raised, and your breath hitched when you felt a cool, soft palm brushing over yours on the wooden armrest, knowing the girl was only ever looking for comfort.

You finished your sentence with a new-found shake in your voice. “I’ll kill that son of a bitch.”

Before Lorraine could reply, the door where the veterinarian had previously taken her dog opened, and you surprised yourself at how quickly you rose from your seat. Lorraine gave you a look before standing up as well, sighing in the utmost relief when her eyes laid on her dog wrapped in a blanket, his chest heaving up and down to signal that he was alive.

"Oh, thank God!” Your head twisted to see Aziel at the front entrance, and his head hung in relief at the living animal. “I was going to bury myself in deprivation if that cute ‘ol thing died.”

“There would have been no need for you to bury yourself because I would have gotten to your Bible-praising ass before you could even shed a tear.” You barked, and Lorraine paused a second of her relief to react, a small smile etching her face at your words of protection.

“You better watch that mouth, sissy, because Dad would rip you a new one if he were to find out.” He threatened though you waved him off; he was all talk, managing to tick off every nerve that held patience within you whenever he pleased, and you still held shock in the back of your mind whenever you’d admit you couldn’t live without him and his childish attitude.

“He’s going to need care. He has two ankle fractures and stitches on his back that you ought to watch out for to make sure he doesn’t bite at them.” Lorraine and Aziel were the only two to listen to the veterinarian, while your mind took you elsewhere; the sun had gone down by then, as it had been over two hours since the truck-dog massacre, and you were sure Lorraine’s parents were concerned about her whereabouts.

“We should probably get her home now, yeah?” You had proposed after the veterinarian had retreated and the small dog rested in Lorraine’s arms, earning a nod from Aziel, who seemed to collect in his mind that Lorraine had a family that she needed to return to, pulling keys from his pocket and ushering the two of you out.

You settled in the backseats of the truck, finding it dangerous enough to ride in the bed, while Aziel got cozy in his driver seat. “Where do you live, girl?”

“The east.” Both you and Aziel turned your heads at her answer, seeing as the two of you resided in the North—hell, you picked her and her dog up in the North—before Aziel questioned her. “Ya positive? What were you doing out here in the North?”

“We were heading to a relative’s house, and my Daddy needed some gas; his truck stopped in the middle of a dirt road because the thing was empty, and he told me to go up to a gas station that was about five minutes out to ask for a gallon. Told me to take Atticus here too,” she said, bending her head down to kiss her dog on the forehead. “They ain’t give it to me, and I was on my way back when..."

Aziel visibly cringed at the remembrance, and he gave Lorraine one last look of sorrow before turning in his seat, cranking on the engine, and setting off east. “So, what? Your parents are worried sick now that you’ve been gone for hours, yeah?”

“Guess so. Daddy’s always been protective of me, calling me his little girl and telling me to always stick by him, but he needed to watch the truck, and I guess he figured Atticus would be enough protection.” Your eyes trailed to the dog in her arms, and you tried to understand how her father could think a dog that small could protect her. “God, he’s never going to let me out of his eyesight ever again.”

“I wouldn’t either if I were him.” Aziel’s grip on the wheel was harsh, his eyes searching the road every second to keep watch of anything. “His little girl ain’t come back; I’d think you were kidnapped.”

The rest of the ride was silent after that, disregarding Lorraine’s soft coos to her drowsy pup when he eventually woke, and you could see Aziel’s hands shake when the truck grew closer to the home address Lorraine had previously given. “Your fault.”

Your voice rang when you pushed yourself up to whisper in his ear, his hand finding your chest to push you back in your seat and away from him. Soon enough, the truck came to a stop outside of a house—a ranch, to your surprise—with a man in a cowboy hat and tucked flannel top sitting on the porch, clearly in distress, while a woman sat right beside him.

Before Lorraine could open the truck door, you put a hand on her shoulder to stop her, and she turned to you with curiosity in her eyes. “Do you think—uh?" Your voice caught in your throat, searching for the right words, while Lorraine had a small smile tug at her lips. “Uh, what’s your house number? The phone number, I mean, to the house. You know, how every house has a phone number because there’s a house phone in every-”

Her voice cut you off, and you could only thank the night sky for covering your reddened cheeks. “82-97, 500.” She gave you a sweet smile before turning the door handle, letting herself out while continuing, “First three numbers are the state code!” and shutting the door, soon embracing her worried father's arms.

When you returned home, you were instructed to sleep in your room while Aziel was forced into the living room, and the numbers recited from Lorraine repeated in your head as you trudged up the stairs, ignoring the shouts of your father toward your missionary brother.

“5…2…9—no! 8…2…9,” you scratched the numbers on a blank piece of paper in ink, "7, 500."

You were lost in your thoughts, trying to accumulate the state code numbers from far in your mind to let the sound of footsteps become known to you, and before you knew it, your mother was standing in front of you with her hands settled on her hips. “I thought I told you to go to sleep, (Y/N)! Stop whatever it is that you’re writing, read off your nightly verse, and go to sleep!”

That day was one you could never forget. It was the day you met your best friend, your teenage-long crush, and also the day you got to ride in a truck bed for the first time. Lorraine’s father, to his continuing demise that you refuse to call him anything other than Mr. Day, was more than reluctant to let Lorraine out of the house after the incident, but your natural charm didn’t take long for him to put trust in you—that you’d take care of his little girl—and soon enough, you were forcing Aziel to drive you down east every weekend to go hang out with the girl that clouded your every thought.

Your feelings toward her never mattered anyway, right? She certainly never felt the same toward you, or so you thought. You knew that the trajectory of two girls together would never be accepted in the eyes of your parents, in the eyes of your church, and in the eyes of the man whose verses you read in a book every night and whose practices forced and consumed your everyday life.

Soon enough, it started to concern your parents as to why you hadn’t found a lover at the growing age of seventeen, having overheard a conversation between them one night about the possibility of lining up suitors, shocking you to the very core. So when the next boy came around, annoying you more than life itself at your school locker before popping the question, “Can I take you on a date?” You could only swallow your pride with a choked-out, "Yes,” leaving your lips before scurrying away.

That relationship didn’t last long—maybe three months—before you had enough of his continuous attempts to shaft his hand into your pants. You ended your relationship with him after a dull day at the state fair, and he could only accept reality after being knocked out by Lorraine after attempting to assault you in a bathroom stall.

The day after, you sealed in place your love for the girl. How could you say anything to her, though? Express your feelings and get something out of her besides rejection—a scenario that you deem impossible. The internal battle kept you up at night, and deciding not to fight it any longer, you forced Aziel to drive you up to Lorraine’s ranchhouse on a cool Friday night.

You probably should have just stayed home, because that would have temporarily avoided the heartbreak words that left her mouth after you had settled in her room. They were not ones of rejection.

“I have a boyfriend!”

“What?” The words came out of a nervous impulse, your face falling to sadness. That went unnoticed by Lorraine, whose face had lit up in excitement at finally being able to tell you. “Yes! His name is RJ, and he’s in my film studies class. He’s so sweet, charming, and so nice, (Y/N)!”

If only Mr. Day had shotgun bullets pre-equipped in the barrels, you would have taken yourself down to the garage, where the weapon lay, and shot yourself without another word. You felt sick, and you felt sicker when that fateful day came around the next week when you had to meet the boy she raved about.

Boy, did that only make you question your self-dignity? He looked to be eighteen going on thirty-five, and you bathed in anger at the way Lorraine looked up at him with such admiration glistening in her dark-brown eyes. You yearned for that look.

Then, alas, the day you waited for came eight months later. 

You had accompanied Lorraine and RJ with your “boyfriend”, Danny, who in reality was just playing along to the toy game of you and him being either’s significant others, benefiting you for hiding your true identity and for Danny’s mother to get off his back about never having a woman by his side.

You had a limp in your leg, trying your utmost hardest to recover from the death trap that was the spinning teacups, berating yourself for trusting Danny to not send the two of you spinning like a couple of toy fidgets. In the end, his actions were limited to himself, and to keep himself upright as his head spun as quickly as he did, he tightened his hold on your shoulder.

The sky was fading to darkness, reminding you of the upcoming end of your day, but you couldn’t think about that when you heard the deafening cries of a girl sounding in your range, a cry that you knew all too well.

“You hear that?” Danny plugged a finger in his ear, fidgeting around the canal with the assumption that his mind was getting the best of him. “Get your finger outta your ear, will ya?” You put a hand to his forearm, yanking the limb to the side with a slouchy cry from the darning boy. “You made me scratch my ear!”

You only hushed him with the sound growing louder as if it were heading toward the two of you. It took a one-eighty to find the source of the problem, coming face to face with a crying Lorraine headed in your pathway at a directionally fast pace, no intention of stopping set in her quick feet as salty tears dribbled down her cheeks.

You held the girl without question when she crashed into you, burying her face in your chest with a mighty clutch to Danny’s—secretly yours—leather jacket, and your heart broke at the sight of her in such a distraught state. Why was she crying? Where was RJ? Was he the cause of her crestfallen shadow?

But you couldn’t pester her with questions; no, that would be irresponsible of you and rid you of all the mannerisms you were forced to learn growing up. You turned to Danny with a solemn look on your face; he was already looking back at you with a sense of confusion laced in his furrowed eyebrows, and you wordlessly cocked your head to the side to give him a signal of your temporary departure.

He shook his head, headed in the other direction with a slight pat on Lorraine’s shoulder, and you drove the other girl in the silenced direction of haystacks originally laid out to be used as sitting stations. However, nobody at the fair seemed to pay any mind to the location. Her crying never let down, sobbing in her hands while you rubbed her back in comfort.

It was only when she finally came down from her teary state that you carried the question, “What happened?” When she looked at you, your reassuring smile fell, analyzing her furrowed eyebrows and narrowed, red eyes, which made you wonder if she was agitated at your question. Should you not have asked?

Her staring never faltered; it looked as if she were analyzing you—your face, to be precise—and your breathing grew heavier as your mind grew less shallow at the impending thoughts that infiltrated your mind. “Raine, I’m dearly sorry if I said somethin’ wrong. I’m just worri-”

“Shut it.” Her voice came out in a whisper, and like a trained dog to its commander, your lips were sealed. Lorraine’s tone was cracked, weary, and dried out from all the crying she had endured not moments before, but now she had formed into a new human. If it weren’t for her reddened eyes, stuffy nose, and pinkish ears, you wouldn’t have had a clue she was in a former tainted state, and there before you, her pupils scanned you all over. Like… if you were someone she hadn’t recognized for years beyond that point, as if you were a whole new person to her.

You had no idea what thoughts circled in her mind at that moment, and if you did, you might have burst.

“I’m not crying because of RJ.”

“Then why are you-”

“I said shut it.” Your lips sealed once more, obedient to Lorraine’s words in the same way you had always been. It was never like you had anything better to say, anyway.

“I broke up with him, but that’s not why I was crying. I was scared of the truth ‘cause it’s nothing but wrong in other eyes, and I’ve always wanted to perfect myself in the eyes of myself and others. Now, I can’t.” You could see from your peripherals that her hands were shaky, fiddling with one another, and her mind was a swarm of second questioning. She couldn’t go back by then, though.

“I don’t think I ever liked RJ entirely. I feel bad about it all ‘cause I think I was just using him to cover up my truth.” Lorraine’s eyes had flickered off of yours for a moment, eyeing her fidgety hands before looking back toward you with a different glint in her eyes. You had never been more confused in life than then, and you wanted nothing more than to question her for miles ahead.

“I think this entire time, I’ve loved someone else.” To your oblivious mind, you couldn’t pick up the secretism behind her words or that glint in her eyes, and your heart broke at the idea of Lorraine finding attraction to another man, another person that wasn’t you.

“What’s his name?”

The corner twitches of Lorraine’s lips vanished, and the gleam that once filled her eyes left to form confusion before realization. “God damn it, (Y/N)!” She pushed herself back with a huff, and it was then that you recognized how close she had been toward you.

“What?”

Lorraine gave another large breath, filled to the brim with annoyance. “What? What? I had this entire thing planned out since last month, just for you to not understand it!”

“Understand what? Raine, you’re really confusin’ me he-” But you couldn’t finish your sentence when something was blocking your lips from moving—more noticeably, someone—and you didn’t move. You didn’t kiss her back, no, but it wasn’t because you didn’t want to. You dreamt of this moment every night, and you didn’t fucking move.

The three second reign it took for Lorraine to register that you had frozen in place rushed her out of her tranced state, the ecstasy coursing through her to finally feel your lips on hers. Her former relaxation and calmness at the ability to finally let her feelings out turned to fright. Did she just ruin a friendship with someone she labeled her lifeline because of her stupid, homosexual thoughts that she figured you would reciprocate?

“(Y/N), uhm, I-” But she couldn’t finish her sentence either, because, like you, there was someone blocking her lips from moving. That fright, the one that her body turned to, disappeared just as quickly as it settled in, and she sighed in relief as she wrapped her arms around your shoulder to bring you in closer. That feeling she felt in her stomach was something she had never felt kissing RJ or any other boy, and man, did it feel fucking amazing.

“Just- just one thing, Raine.” Your voice came in a hushed whisper, moving forward to rest your forehead against the girl you claimed to be your whole word. “Yeah?”

“We ain’t gonna tell nobody about this, ‘cause you know we can’t.”

That was the truth, one that broke both of your hearts. “I know.”

☟

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#jenna ortega #lorraine day #lorraine day x reader #lorraine day x you #lorraine day smut #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x smut #fanfiction #wattpad #lgbtq #wednesday addams #crazyoffher #x movie #x 2022 #mature #mia goth #pearl #wlw #lesbian #fanfic #wednesday addams x reader #tara carpenter

[crazyoffher]

WATCHTOWER. - 4

jenna ortega x fem!reader

summary: photos of you and jenna's hangout surface along with dating rumors, leaving jenna forced to find a way to deal with the rumors without her management's dreadful ideas.

warnings: small mentions of homophobia, unedited.

word amount: 2900+

a/n: condemn this as a filler chapter.

part one part two part three part five

“Now, I think we have to get you into a PR relationship.”

“No! God no! I’m not even dating her, for Christ's sake.” Jenna was exasperated. It had been about a week and a half since she had hung out with you. She was now in Romania to finish her ‘Wednesday’ season two reshoots, and her manager had flown out there to do a proper, in-person meeting to discuss the current news surrounding her.

Jenna Ortega reveals a new love interest; sources confirm she is a Michelin-starred waiter (Y/N) (Y/L/N)!

Rising actress Jenna Ortega finds consolation in a non-famous woman after her breakup with her former co-star, (NAME REDACTED).

For fuck's sake, they broke up a year ago. Why were the media still hung up on them?

New photos reveal a possible relationship between young actress Jenna Ortega and a woman not in the Hollywood spotlight.

The articles went on and on, none of them speculating that the two could just be friends. Just headlining them in a “relationship” to grab their money.

“Are you sure? The paparazzi photos say otherwise, Jenna. Have you even bothered to see them since they’ve been released?” Her manager, Castillo, pulled out a folder filled with papers, specifically printed photos. He skimmed through them before sliding the folder over to Jenna, who took the folder warily.

At first glance, Jenna didn’t see anything wrong with them. There were a maximum of five pictures, two of them of you and her at the Bradbury. The first photo didn’t show much, just your back turned to the camera while you talked to Jenna, her face in the frame as she looked to be thoroughly listening to you.

The second one was shot from above you guys, with the photographer on the third floor while you and Jenna were on the second, both your faces in the frame this time. You were pointing to the Bradbury treaty that you had been so giddy about seeing, pointing to it while you faced Jenna with a big grin on your face, showcasing your excitement.

The other three photos were of you and her at the restaurant. The first one showed you two in the waiting room, Jenna’s hand on your shoulder, and her facial expression with faint concern etched on it. It was when you were doubting your clothes. The second photo shows the two of you at your table, with a smile on her face as you talked about university.

The last photo was probably the most questionable photo, to Jenna anyway. It was of you two outside after leaving the restaurant, and you were pointing at the note that the waiter gave Jenna in her hand, but from the angle, it looked like you were going to hold her hand.

“I don’t see much wrong with these except for maybe this photo,” she held up the very last photo, “and even then, she wasn’t even holding my hand or going to; she was pointing at a note a waiter had given me.”

Castillo sighed, rubbing his face. “It’s because you’re not analyzing them properly. Look,” he said as he rounded the table, standing behind Jenna’s chair to point at the photos she had spread out, rubbing his face.

“Notice how you’re looking at her. That’s what people focus on; they don’t determine two people being in a relationship only if a photo of them kissing is released; they base it off of facial expressions, how one looks at the other.”

“That’s fucking stupid!” Jenna grabbed one of the photos, analyzing how she looked at you. She now understood what Castillo was saying; her look was one of admiration, but it didn’t make the situation any less odd.

“You talk to her about this?” Castillo’s assistant, Louis, chimed in. He was a nice guy, but such a nightmare at times that it made Jenna wonder how she had not beaten him with a baseball bat at this point.

“We talked about it briefly,” Jenna mumbled. When the news stories and images were released, she remembered the conversation she had with you the day before she left for Romania. She could only ever express regret so many times, and you promised her that you would call her when you had some free time. You had yet to call, though. It worried her.

“This is no time for mumbling, Jenna! All of this can stain your career heavily.”

“How?”

“You know how,” Castillo’s tone issued, telling her to stop playing dumb, “parts of society are still not acceptable to… same-sex relationships.” He could see the expression that formed on Jenna’s face, quickly turning his words around. “I don’t know what you identify as, and as of now I have no interest in knowing, but you have a reputation to keep. Don’t tell me you’re going to throw away a lifelong career’s work for a girl you’ve known for a little over a month.”

“I’m not throwing anything away.” Jenna grumbled, clearly in a worsening mood. “I’m not dating her. I won’t lie to you and say that I have no attraction to her, but we’re just friends. I’m not cutting her off because of some flawed rumors.” She argued.

The stranded photographs were gathered and shoved back into Castillo's folder with a sigh. “Louis, get RJ on the phone.” He directed his assistant, who nodded and moved out of the room with urgency in his steps. “You,” he turned to Jenna, who was shrunken in her seat, undeniably drowning in neverending stress, “call her. If I check back in and you’re not on the phone with her, I’m putting you in a PR relationship, regardless of your opinion.”

Castillo ushered out of the room, leaving Jenna in solitude. She flicked through the numbers saved on her phone, soon clicking yours, but she felt herself hesitate to click the ‘call’ button. It was all shit to her that she couldn’t even hang out with a friend alone without possibly crashing her career.

She bit her lip with a patient sigh, clicking the button, and holding the phone up to her ear. It rang once, twice, three, and four times before she was sent to the automated voicemail message. She rubbed her face, clicking the call button again, then again, then again, but you didn’t pick up, and it was starting to worry her.

It’s not like you were avoiding her; you were just busy. “My phone keeps on fucking buzzing!”

“Then set it down somewhere if it’s bothering you that much.” Jack quipped, and you went into the backroom and toward your locker. You mindlessly shoved your phone into the small space, too time-poor to check who or what was the recipient of the constant buzzing.

“(Y/N)! Come on, you've got five tables waiting on their food, and you’re — what? Chilling in the backroom?” You could hear Derek’s loud yelps through the commotion in the kitchen, and you rolled your eyes at the audacity of his accusations. “I’m coming!”

You relocked the locker, pulling at the handle to check for security. Harvey stole a lot more than tips.

“So?” Castillo entered the room after a generous fifteen minutes. “She didn’t pick up.”

Despite his serious tone, stoic face, and clouded mind, he could see the worry in Jenna’s face, and he let out a frustrated huff. “I’m giving you until tomorrow, Jenna. If you don’t talk to her by that time, then we’re pacing your reshoots and taking you back to the States to have a proper meeting with your entire management and publicity crew.”

She wasted no time in burying her face in her hands when Castillo and Louis bid her farewell, the suffocating urge to cry her eyes out taking over her. She eyed her phone for ten minutes; that’s it. She sat there and bore her gaze into the device, hoping to see your caller ID pop up, but nothing.

“Derek! When can I go on break?”

You stuffed your filthy tray into the dishwasher, fuming as you hurriedly shut the door and accidentally hit your finger. You gripped your finger in pain as you searched for the busied man.

You could see his head pop into the kitchen, as if he was too preoccupied in the dining room to move the rest of his body. “I’ll stop sending tables to you. Finish up with the ones you are currently serving, and then take your thirty minutes." And as quickly as he entered the kitchen, he exited, and you grinned slyly as you grabbed a clean tray from under a countertop, stacking the meals for your table before hurrying out with imperativeness in your steps.

You returned to the backroom after finishing all of your tables (with the inevitable process of having ice-cold water thrown at you) to find Jack in your usual seat. He was scrolling through his phone when you pushed the back of the chair up, causing him to fall to the floor.

“Hey!” He got up, brushing himself off, before sitting in the chair across from you. “Your phone’s still been buzzing like crazy; it’s getting kind of annoying.”

“You’re annoying.” You stood from your chair, grabbing an 8-ounce soda can on the way to your locker, the buzzing growing louder as you moved closer. “Jesus, that sounds like a vibe.”

“Ew!” Jack shouted. You smiled to yourself, first grabbing a hanging towel to wipe your face of any water residue before gripping the vibrating phone, eyeing it for a second before you saw Jenna’s caller ID pop on the screen.

“Who keeps on blowing up your damn phone?”

“Jenna!”

“No way you’ve been having Hollywood call you nonstop and sending her to voicemail, at that.” Jack stood up, making his way over to you and eyeing Jenna’s caller ID. “So are you going to pick up or what the fuck?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You swiped the button, pushing Jack away and moving toward a more secluded area while you listened in. “Hello?”

“Fucking hell, (Y/N). Look, I know you said you’d call me when you had the time, but I don’t have any more time to waste. I need to talk to you about the whole media thing.” You could hear the exasperation in her voice, and that made you worry.

“I’m sorry, Jenna. I took a couple extra shifts this week to try and help my brother pay for something. I was actually going to call you tonight, but if you need to talk to me now, I’ve got thirty minutes.” You turned toward Jack, shooing him out of the room, and he gave you a ‘what the fuck?’ look before begrudgingly leaving. You knew he didn’t really care where he took his break; he just wanted to eavesdrop.

“You don’t have to apologize any more; it’s fine if that’s why you’re calling.” You sat down in your seat, cracking open the soda can and taking a small sip. You unbuttoned your vest, throwing it on the back of your chair, as you suddenly heard Jenna start rambling.

“Itsnotbecauseofthatitsbecausemymanagementisconcernedthatyouregoingtostainmycareerandthat-”

“Jenna,” you let out a breathy laugh, although it probably wasn’t the time to do so, “slow down. I have no idea what you just said.”

You could hear her catching her breath and letting out a sigh, and you could imagine her rubbing her face in stress. “I’m not calling to apologize to you again. It’s because my management is concerned that you’re not good for my publicity because of these fake dating rumors, and I don’t know what to do.”

If anybody walked into the room you sat in, they’d laugh at your expression, jaw slack, and eyebrows furrowed in moral confusion and slight fright. Was she cutting you off?

“I’m not cutting you off; I’d never do that.” It was like she read your mind. “I just — I have no idea how to deal with all of this. Do I make a public statement? Leave it all as is? Get into a PR relationship? I’m stuck.”

“Jenna,” you tilted yourself back in the chair, unconsciously doing a check around the room to see if anybody had come in, “it’s fine if you need to not be seen with me in public. I do have a living space that is private, after all. For the whole situation…” You trailed off, biting your lip in thought.

“Definitely don’t do a PR stunt; it’ll only make you unhappy. I say just make a public statement, but regardless, isn’t it up to your management?” Shifting around, you moved the soda can to the side of the table before standing up and walking toward your locker. Last you knew, your backpack was in there with your laptop, and you were keen on seeing what people kept on saying.

“Yeah, but they told me to think of what I want to do, and when I get back to the US and have a proper meeting with them, then they’ll see whether or not it’d be a good idea.” From Jenna’s perspective, she was back in her trailer, shuffling back and forth with the phone up to her ear while she mindlessly cleaned up the kitchen area.

You opened your laptop, typing in the complex password that was ‘0001’ before opening Microsoft and searching up Jenna’s name. A slew of news articles appeared at the top of the page in an instant, and you saw the same old picture you had been seeing for the past week. “In that case, I’d say bring up the public statement, because you can’t leave it all as is, and I know you’d rather die than get into a PR relationship. It’ll all be alright, Jenna.”

You needed to reassure the girl because her tone had softened but was still filled with a stressed sound. Jack entered the room, assuming that the seriousness of the conversation had subsided (because he was eavesdropping from the other side of the door), and sat across from you. He flung his hands around, asking for your attention, which you gave him while listening to Jenna thank you for the talk you guys had. “Tell her you miss her!”

“Why?” You mouthed it, raising your eyebrows in an attempt to get him to lower his voice. “Because you do, duh.” His tone hadn’t lowered in the slightest, and you threw the soda can that was now empty toward him, putting a finger over your mouth.

“Yeah, no, don’t worry about it. And trust me, if it seemed like it, I wasn’t avoiding you.” You returned to the conversation, ignoring Jack’s heart-hand gestures toward you. You eyed the time on your laptop, seeing that you had five minutes left on your break, and you usually took the last five to prepare.

“I thought that at first, but I brushed it off because it didn’t seem like you, you know?” Jenna bit her lip, throwing away a styrofoam cup that sat on the sink counter. “It didn’t seem like me?” You asked, repeating her words. Jenna shook her head, blurting out a “no” when she remembered you couldn’t see her and mentally scolding herself for her dumbness.

You had put her on speakerphone when Derek ushered Jack out of the room, seeing as his break time ran out, with a reminder to you that you had about a minute or two left. “What does seem like me, then?” It came out in a teasing tone, though you weren’t trying to tease her. You were genuinely curious as to what the high-priority girl thought of you.

“Nice, funny; definitely not the ghosting type.” She laughed, and you smiled while buttoning your vest back on. “Somebody I can be myself with, definitely.”

“You’re not yourself with some people?” That genuinely shocked you. Jenna seemed like one of the most open people you knew, though, to be fair, you still hadn’t known her all that well. She gave off a vibe, you’d say. “No, not really. Whenever I hang out with more high-end people, they act all serious, so most of the time, I just stay quiet.”

“That must suck. I can’t hold myself from talking; the longest I can go is maybe five minutes — oh!” You exclaimed, remembering what you had planned on asking her. “Do you know when you come back to the US? I want you to try this little cafe that’s in my bar. It doesn’t sound the best right now, considering all of this… crap, but it’s always empty. Up to you, though.”

“That sounds nice.” Jenna sat down on a stool, playing with the top of her fingernail that she had cut too short. “I’m always open to trying new things, though I’d probably be in some sort of disguise for precaution.”

“Risky, are we?”

“Definitely.” Jenna’s smirk was engraved into your brain, and you knew she was doing just that. You enjoyed talking to her more than anything, but the sound of clattering plates crowded your ears, and you were surprised that Derek hadn’t dragged you out of the breakroom by now.

“Hey, I have to go back to work, but I can talk to you more tomorrow because I’ll have a day off, yeah?” You never made commitments like that because you were afraid of breaking them, but you knew you would be laying on your bed, phone in hand, listening to Jenna rant about her struggles as a producer and actress on the show she was filming the next day. You couldn’t wait.

“Yeah! Oh, and (Y/N)?”

“Yeah?”

“I miss you too. Goodnight.”

☟ ☟ ☟

taglist: @grandpatrolnut @annalestern @rhythm-catsandwine @yara124 @daryldixonsw1fe @red1culous @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @n0vabug @idkwimdtbh @alexkolaxs

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[crazyoffher]

WATCHTOWER. - 3

jenna ortega x fem!reader

summary: the continuously reappearing late-night visitor carries out her goal, taking you where she knew you wanted to be.

warnings: unedited

word amount: 4,000+

a/n: i personally think this is kind of boring, so i hope you guys don’t think it is. enjoy this long chapter :) (edit: why did none of y’all tell me i forgot to add the summary 😭)

part one part two part four

“You know, when you said you wanted to ‘hang out’, I figured something like the mall. Not this!” You gawked at the building in front of you, jaw slack, and Jenna couldn’t help but laugh at your expression.

“What? You don’t like it?”

“I fucking love it, Jenna. Are you kidding? I’ve wanted to go here since I was a kid.” The two of you stood outside the Bradbury Building, an architectural landmark that you were more than interested in.

“Really? I was kind of seeing it as a hit or miss location because I didn’t know what you were into.” That was a lie. 

The night you gave Jenna your number, you guys talked from when you got home at midnight until 3 AM. It was enjoyable, to say the least, because you felt a connection with her. With an eased mind, you let her know things about yourself—nothing deep, just who you are and who you’re surrounded with, mainly.

You had a dog, Aries, that lived at your parents house because your apartment doesn’t allow pets.

You had siblings—one sister and five brothers—though two of those brothers lived out of state for college and career purposes. You were the second oldest out of all of them; your eldest brother was Christian, who was 25, and you were 23.

But then came the piece of information that was morally important to Jenna. Your last name.

Immediately after texting Jenna goodnight, she searched your name on Instagram, clicking through dozens of accounts until landing on yours. You and an unknown man together were your profile picture, whom she assumed was your brother.

It was a public account with three thousand followers and five posts on it. Your most recent post, dated back five months, showed you in your graduation gown and cap holding up your diploma.

The caption is what caught her attention, though, reading ‘Certified Architect’.

It didn’t lie, either. You did have a bachelor's degree in architecture, and not long after graduating, you applied for a job at a big-name company, and you were hired, but not for another eight months at the time because all positions were filled. That’s why you picked up the high-paying job you have now, dealing with assholes day and night, but the money was worth it.

You wouldn’t be making as much as you currently did at the restaurant as an architect, but you didn’t care. You didn’t enjoy the waitress job, and the position you applied for at the company paid well.

That’s all that led Jenna to the bright idea of bringing you to the Bradbury Building, skimming reviews for over an hour on architectural landmarks before settling on the building in front of you.

She had no idea about your lifelong interest in visiting the building, though, so she guessed it really was a hit or miss on that part. “You ready?”

“What—oh, yeah, definitely. Come on.” You held out your hand, too immersed in the building to realize your action.

You weren’t a physical person, and you disliked when the hugs friends would give you lasted longer than needed. When you came to reality and saw your hand outstretched, patiently waiting, you were startled. Your dislike for touch came in the form of consent, and you threw all of that out of the window after not taking into consideration that she might not be up for physicality with you.

Before you could retract your hand and mutter an apology, you felt her hand grasp yours.

Your arm fell to your side as Jenna started walking, pulling you along. While you walked alongside her, your face contorted into a nervous expression, and you blew out a large breath you hadn't realized you had been holding.

“Welcome to the Bradbury! Would you guys be interested in scheduling a time for a tour guide, or would you like to explore the architecture yourselves?” You hadn’t taken more than three steps inside the building before a man stopped you, tall and formally dressed. He held out two brochures, which you and Jenna took with your free arms, thanking the man before Jenna spoke up. “By ourselves is fine, thank you.”

The man smiled and walked behind the four of you, with Eddie and Bennett walking at a distance from you and Jenna. She didn’t want them there, but because they were hired for day-to-day protection, all she could do was ask them to keep their distance. They agreed. 

“What do we do here?” Jenna was a bit stumped, looking around the building to see railings, walkways, and even an elevator or two. You were more than happy to explain to her the extent of the architectural landmarks. 

“You just kind of walk around. You’re meant to take in the design, the art, and there should be informative boards on when and how the building was built as well.” You looked down at Jenna, only to see her already looking at you. You shot her a lopsided smile to acknowledge your appreciation of her thorough listening. “It’s why these places aren’t always filled, because a lot of people would find it all boring.”

She nodded profusely, signing to you that she understood, or tried to understand, all of what you were saying. “Alright, architect, tell me all you know about this place then.”

You pursed your lips, contorting them into a smile. “Gladly.”

You and Jenna walked further, and you were right; there weren’t too many people there compared to art museums or other attractions. There was a passageway boarded off, possibly for renovations, so the two of you traveled down a hall with about three other people standing around.

“Well, for it’s history, the Bradbury started being planned in 1892 by it’s owner, Lewis Bradbury, and he hired an architect, Sumner Hunt, to design the building. The original design was supposedly scrapped because Bradbury didn’t like the imagery it gave, so he hired a draftsman by the name of George Wyman. He had no education as an architect, which led people to wonder if he even changed Hunt’s designs at all and who should be credited as the building's architect.” 

“So Hunt got screwed over, basically.”

You nodded. “In credentials and work, yes. Wyman actually worked for Hunt, but I can assume that didn’t last long, you know?” You laughed, and so did she.

Jenna observed how each of your cheeks was marked with dimples and how your eyes narrowed. She was well aware of her own smitten ways toward you, but all she could do was try her hardest to brush them off. As far as she was aware, you were not interested in anything more than friendship.

“Bradbury died the same year, and the building opened a year later. As of now, it serves as the headquarters for the LAPD’s Internal Affairs Division. It’s why you can’t go up past the third stairway.”

“You seem to know a lot about it’s history.” Jenna quirked. Usually, she hated when people constantly talked; it was a major irk for her. She didn’t mind you at all. She blamed it on your smooth, slightly low voice—just a tad—and how calm you seemed when talking. 

“Whenever I have an interest in something, I like to do a lot of research on it. I enjoy figuring out the history behind it, whether it’s a landmark or even a cup,” you laughed lightly. “It’s definitely a factor in why I minored in history.”

“Minored?”

“University. I minored in history and majored in architecture. Did I never mention that?” You swore you had, but you didn’t blame yourself. It was the middle of the night when the two of you texted, letting each other know more about yourselves, and you’d be lying if you said you were fighting sleep just to talk to Jenna.

“You didn’t, but it’s really cool. I hated school a lot, but for some reason, the idea of going to university always interested me. I never had the time for it, though, especially when the opportunity came.”

“When, after graduating high school?” Jenna nodded. “I started to garner more roles around that time, and it was clear to me that I couldn’t do it even online. I don’t think I would’ve made it through four years anyway, but I just kind of wanted to know what it was like to live that sort of life, you know?”

“Definitely.” You guys reached the beginning of the staircase, with Eddie moving from behind the two of you to open a low door that was blocking the entrance. The stairs were open, and Jenna’s foot went under a stair. It would’ve left her to fall if it weren’t for her grappling onto your shirt for support. 

Your hands flew to her back, reflexes a lot quicker than her bodyguards, who didn’t comprehend that she almost fell until you had already stabilized her. “Are you alright?”

You bent down slightly, pushing the ankle of her leg and sliding her foot out from under the staircase while Bennett’s hands replaced yours on her back. You could feel Jenna let out a huge breath. “Yeah, I’m fine. Maybe a little embarrassed now.” Her cheeks were tinted pink, and her hands were fighting the urge to fly up to her face to cover herself.

“Don’t be. Stuff like that happens all the time, especially to me. It’s like I’m cursed.” You reassured her, and Jenna smiled at the idea of you falling. “Yeah, I can imagine that, and It’s kind of funny.”

“Oh, wow.” You dragged out your words, moving up the staircase with a falsely hurt and sarcastic expression on your face. Jenna followed, her hand resting on your shoulder in fear that she’d slip again. “That was pretty rude of y—oh my god.”

You walked up the last step, turning toward the wall where an engraving sat, reading something rather long and in small writing.

Jenna eyed how you darted your gaze everywhere, taking in the sight of whatever was on the wall as if it were the most precious thing you had seen in your life. “I think it’s time for another history lesson.”

“This absolute beauty,” your hands gestured to the wall, finger pads feeling over the engraved tiny-fonted words, “is the LB Treaty. It’s not actually a treaty, but people like to paint it as if it were. This is the artifact of peace that has been number one for me to see, but I never knew it was inside the Bradbury building itself.”

Still perplexed, Jenna cocked her head to the side to get a better view of it. The engravings sat in the middle of the wall, with scratches and symbols painted all over the wood. She looked at you, your brows furrowed and mouth agape in intense concentration, as if you were not sure if you were hallucinating or not. “What’s the point of it?”

You tore your fingers away from the wall, skimming over the title that read, “Lewis Bradbury Treaty of 1893,” in all capitals. "In 1892, it was discussed whether or not the Bradbury should be put up as a building of visitation, as in if people could visit the place. Bradbury argued no, but Hunt and Wyman both said yes.”

“Shouldn’t Bradbury have the upper hand since he was the owner, though?”

“Not necessarily, because Hunt and Wyman were both equally involved in the construction of the building. Even before Hunt was fired, he contributed to the location of the building as well as getting the official papers, and Wyman was important for the architecture, supposedly.” You shamelessly took a picture of the artifact, shoving your phone in your pocket and stepping back.

“They decided to solve their problem in the form of the law. They made a treaty, but before anyone could sign, Bradbury died, so Hunt forged his signature on the treaty and changed it up so the building could be accessible to all, instead of Bradbury’s plan to only make it accessible to the wealthy.”

“That’s kind of fucked.” Jenna snickered, moving along the stairwell. You took one last look at the treaty before following her, explaining to her more history on the way around as well as pointing out designs and the entire building's structure.

“Would it be too much to ask you to dinner?”

“I’m sorry?” Your ears perked, and you leant slightly closer to Jenna, unsure of what she said in her lowered voice.

She coughed, shoving her hands into her jacket pocket as the cool breeze hit the two of you while you exited the landmarks. The car rounded to the front with Bennett behind the wheel. “I was wondering if you wanted to get something to eat, as well, if you’re not busy for the rest of the night.”

Her tone was shy, almost unsure of herself, but she based it on a slight fear of rejection from you. All of it washed away when you gave her a lipped smile, opening the backseat door for her. “I’d love nothing more.”

As you entered the restaurant, you were visibly shocked at Jenna’s choice of dining. “This is, uhm,” you stumbled over your words, turning back to see Bennett arguing with the valet over car control. “I'm going to go out on a limb right now and say that this place is very expensive.”

“You’ve guessed correctly,” Jenna said as she walked away from the hostess, meeting your side on the waiting chairs and noticing your struck expression. “Sorry, I figured you’d be accustomed to places like this because you work in a Michelin-starred restaurant, but we can go somewhere else if you feel uncomfortable in-”

“It’s all good, Jenna.” You cut her off, pointing the palms of your hands in her direction to let her know that you’re fine. “I just feel a little underdressed, is all.”

You eyed your clothes from where you sat: a beige-brown shirt and black baggy jeans with black adidas as your choice of outfit. Meanwhile, all the staff and guests were all dressed in formals, button-ups, and dresses in every direction her eyes scanned.

“It’s alright.” Her hand rested on your shoulder in an attempt to ease your nerves, and your heart skipped a beat at the simple interaction. “I’ve been here a couple of times. Dressing up is just a shnack; the owners and workers could care less about how you look.”

You only nodded, standing when the hostess called Jenna’s name. Her hand still rested on your shoulder as the two of you ventured into the dining room, Eddie and Bennett resting in the car but still within eyesight of the two of you when the hostess guided you to a round table, chairs already outstretched.

You both muttered your thanks before moving to sit down, scanning the menus before giving your orders to the well-groomed man with slicked-back hair. You tried to ignore how he eyed Jenna, his gaze lingering on her, and, to top it off, a not-so-sly wink he sent her when he closed his notebook before walking away.

A busser came by soon after the waiter vanished, filling up both your cups with water before handing out complimentary champagne, ghosting over the fact Jenna wasn’t of drinking age. You watched as she examined the alcohol, her eyebrows raising at you as if she were telling you to test it first.

“Might as well take your opportunity of underage drinking while you can, yeah?” You joked before your lips met the glass, taking a light sip of the champagne, a 1959 Dom Perignon worth well over one thousand dollars.

Jenna took a sip of hers as well, humming at the caramel hints in the champagne. “To be honest with you, I’m not really hungry, but I could eat something to pass the time.” She admitted it, setting the glass down before meeting your addled eyes.

“Why did you ask me here, then?”

“Because I figured maybe you were hungry, and more-so taking this as the opportunity to get to know you more, if you’re willing to share more with me.” You nodded, setting your glass down as well. You took a sharp glance at your waiter serving another table, watching as his eyes darted to Jenna every few seconds.

“With my pleasure,” you said as you scooted your chair closer to the table, “ask me anything.”

Jenna was left in her own thoughts, thinking back to your guys’ earlier conversation about education and before that, when the two of you were texting. “How was university? High school, any form of social experience you’ve had.” She laughed at the overlapping of her own words. “I seriously can’t tell if you’re anti-social or not.”

“University had me close to ripping all of my hair out; that’s how I’ll summarize the experience.” Jenna giggled at your honesty, slowly succumbing to the fact that you had no filter when it came to your words. “It was a breeze at times. You just kind of went to the classes, did homework, and lived your life for the rest of the day until you had to repeat it. But then there are midterms and finals that have you hunched over your desk, nose in multiple textbooks, trying your absolute hardest just to get a 75% on the essay portions.”

“A 75% is passing!” Jenna argued, but you shook your head vigorously. “Not when you go to a student-competitive school with your classmates averaging 85% and higher on each test. It’s really tempting to quit at times when you see other people achieving what you worked hard for and didn’t get.”

Your voice sounded the same as earlier when you were explaining architectural history to Jenna not long ago: smooth and slightly low, intoxicating to anybody’s ears. “Yet you still hung on and got your degree.”

“Because I never fully deterred myself.” You took another sip of the champagne, maybe two, before continuing. “Whenever I felt like walking to the counselor's office and telling them that I wanted to leave, I thought about how hard I worked to get where I was and how much of my time and effort I would be wasting by just giving up because I was comparing myself to others. As long as I really keep my mindset, I think I can handle another two years, maybe even four.”

Jenna’s ears perked at the last sentence; she was not sure if she mistook your words. “What do you mean by more years?”

Before you could answer her, your rather flirtatious waiter came back around, two plates in his hands and a smaller third plate balanced off his arm. He handed the two of you your food before setting down the small plate next to Jenna’s main plate, “and a dessert, on the house, for somebody who looks so sweet.”

You grabbed a cloth that was set to the side, throwing it over your mouth and pretending to wipe something from it, but truthfully biting back the urge to laugh. The waiter winked at her once more before walking away, and it was then that you removed the cloth from your mouth, ducking your head down and trying your hardest to not laugh loudly.

“Stop it.” You felt another cloth hit your head, and you raised yourself up with your hand covering your mouth. “I’m sorry, but I had to! It was so corny.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She pushed the dessert away, taking a couple bites of her food before focusing her attention back on you, your demeanor returning to calm. “Now answer my question.”

“What—oh yeah. Um, I actually plan on going back to university soon.” Jenna’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and you presumed it was because of her food, but her words said otherwise. “You have your degree, though.”

“It’s a bachelor's, and I don’t feel like I’m truly going to get anywhere with a bachelor’s. I was thinking a master's or doctorate would get me even higher-paying and higher-role jobs, so I could try and make a name for myself. A master’s takes an extra two years; a doctorate takes an extra four.” You took a bite out of your food, giving a low hum of satisfaction while Jenna gathered your words together in her head. 

“I guess that’s fair enough, coming from me, where I’d die if I had to take more acting classes.” You almost snorted at that, your cloth flying up from your hand to wipe the grime off your mouth before swallowing your food and giving a proper laugh.

The night slowly came to an end as you finished your food, fighting Jenna for the check before ultimately deciding to go 50/50, each paying three hundred dollars for rather pricy, though well-cooked, food. She warily took a note that your waiter gave her when returning both your cards, his phone number written on it, and deciding to throw it in a trashcan outside the restaurant when the two of you headed for the car.

“Poor waiter. He’s not getting a call tonight, is he?”

“Nope.”

The drive to your place took about twenty minutes, the restaurant being on the edge of Los Angeles and therefore far from your apartment. You let out a content sigh when the car came to a halt outside the building, not ready to end your day with Jenna despite the clock nearing 10 p.m.

You asked, “So how long is it going to take me until I can hang out with you again?” On the ride home, she told you about how she had to go out of state for a while to reshoot a couple of scenes for her upcoming movie and wouldn’t be in the country for a month or so.

“When I come back, I’m going to be busier than ever because of pushed-back meetings that I’ll need to take care of, but I think I can see you one day. I might or might not stop by your work looking for a well-dressed waitress in a mentally stressed state.”

You smiled a genuine one at her, rubbing your face, which was slowly deteriorating into tiredness. “You shouldn’t have told me that, because now I can’t wait for it.”

You exited the car from the left door, Jenna from the right, and rounded the car before embracing her in a hug that she reciprocated just as heartfully as you. Her hands were around your stomach area, and your arms were resting around her shoulders.

It was already cold out, goosebumps littering your skin because you had no jacket, and the feel of Jenna’s nose brushed up against your neck, her breath hitting your skin sent shivers down your spine.

“Goodnight, Jenna.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N).” And with that, Jenna got into the car that retreated out of the street, and you waltzed into your apartment lounge with nothing but post-excitement running through your blood, ready to knock out as soon as you laid on your bed.

“Welcome home, buddy.” You jumped at the voice, soon recognizing it to be Jack's, who sat on your couch with Scream 5 playing on the TV. “How was your date?”

“Hang out,” you corrected him, “and fucking awesome. I got to rant my heart out about architecture and my life. Why? Because Jenna wanted to hear about it, so suck it, you asshole.” Jack grabbed the remote, throwing it at your hip. He was the last person who ever wanted to hear you rant, plugging his ears with the tips of his fingers if you went a little overboard on explaining something.

“Alright, well, I’m going to sleep-”

“But I want to hear about your date!” He yelled out, watching you retreat into the hallway and into your room. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow!”

Undressing into your usual nightwear, a white t-shirt and plaid shorts, it didn’t take you long to surrender yourself to sleep, only feeling the weight of your restlessness after you were away from Jenna.

A ringtone, a really annoying ringtone, was soon shut off by a hand clawing at their phone, grumbling at their sudden awakening but then it started again, and it took opening their eyes to see that it wasn’t an alarm but somebody calling them.

“Hello?”

“Jenna, why the hell are people saying that you’re now in a lesbian relationship?”

☟ ☟ ☟

hey guys 💁🏻‍♀️hope you enjoyed that and if you thought it was boring pls comment something so i can rewrite it to make it more interesting :) don’t ask me about the architecture part because i don’t know where i got it from either…

(ted mosby)

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna marie ortega #actress #crazyoffher #wednesday addams #celebrity x reader #wattpad #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jennaortega #fluff #lesbian

[crazyoffher]

ETERNAL BLUE.

warnings: nightmares, sarcastic commentary.

-

The night was gloomy, and window blinds were open to try and illuminate some light in the dark room, but only a light gleam from the moon shined through, barely enough for you to make out Jenna’s body some days. 

Every night you’d go to sleep safe and sound in the arms of your wonderful girlfriend, and you’d never have any interruptions in the night, always waking up in the light of day to her humming a tune rather loudly in the shower. This night, however, was different.

You shot up, sweat coating the collar of your shirt, your entire neck, and your forehead. You panted hard, as if all of the wind had been knocked out of you, and you knew exactly why you were like this at 3:25 in the morning.

You had a nightmare, easy. They never happened when you were sleeping in the presence of Jenna, though, and it confused you just as much as it confused the shorter girl feeling you jump out of her arms in shock.

“Holy sh- (Y/N), are you okay?” She shot up as fast as you did to meet your level, her brown eyes darting all around your sweating figure. Her hand found it’s way to your back, disregarding the dampness of your shirt and rubbing in circles to comfort you. Your breathing was still irregular, your mouth agape as you turned to her, giving her a small smile.

“I’m doing spectacular. Why do you ask?”

Her hand left your back and joined her other hand in pushing you aside—almost off the bed at that. “Now is not the time to make jokes! What the fuck happened?” Concern was written all over her tone and face, and you felt a little bad at your joke.

“I have nightmares, duh.” She pushed you again, this time leaving you to fall off the bed and have the wind knocked out of you… again. Jenna mumbled an apology before pulling you up and pushing you back on the bed.

“You have nightmares?” You nodded, biting your lip and wiping away the sweat beads that sat on your forehead. “Have they always been there? (Y/N), we’ve been dating for almost a year now; why haven’t you told me?”

“I never wanted to worry you. You’re always busy with work, and I didn’t want to add any more stress.” You wiped the sweat off your palms before taking her hand and interlocking your fingers together, bringing your hand up to kiss the back of her hand. “I’m sorry, ba-”

“What are they about?”

“Hmmmmm?” You darted your head forward, dragging out your words, and Jenna pushed your head back. “Answer me.”

“It varies.”

“And what are the varieties?”

“Well...” You bit your lip once more, chewing on it slightly while you found the right words. Despite pressing you, Jenna remained patient as you collected your thoughts.

“Some of them have to do with Jonathan and some of them with my dad.” Jonathan was your ex-boyfriend who did things that a normal boyfriend wouldn’t do to you, and your dad wasn’t the best guy growing up, leaving you with permanent scars and more bruises than you could count during your teenage years. Jonathan was long gone in prison, your dad was dead, and the only way they could now haunt you was when you were asleep.

You hated it.

“I take medication for it, but it doesn’t always work. And now that I’m thinking back, I might have forgotten to take it earlier.” Your hands roamed your sweaty hair, pushing it back before falling back on the bed. Your arms sprawled out while Jenna eyed you with sympathy.

“You want to talk about it in the morning?” You nodded. Jenna got up, making her way to your shared closet before pulling out a shirt, shorts, and underwear and setting them in your lap. “Take a shower; you’re sweating like a maniac.”

You barked out a laugh despite the conflict in your mind, taking the clothes she handed you and giving your girlfriend a gentle kiss before heading for the bathroom. Jenna wasted her time scrolling through Instagram, her fingers creating a mind of their own, and scrolling through your account. She’d gleam at the pictures you’d post of you and her whenever you were together.

It was when you came back that she shut off her phone, immediately taking you into her arms despite your damp figure and burying her face into your shoulder. Her hand repeated the same motion as earlier, rubbing soothing circles on your back and humming a song that she knew was your favorite. Before she could process it, she could hear the soft snores that you’d generate whenever you were in a content slumber.

She didn’t wait too long before allowing the darkness to take her, her hands gripping your figure softly but firmly, as if she were afraid that something or someone would take you. But you were hers; she knew that, and she’d comfort you any day of the week if it made you content and happy. Because that’s what girlfriends do—they love you.

☟ ☟ ☟

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