Your Child Calls Her Mom For The First Time

tiny moves

"the tiniest moves you make, the whole damn world shakes"

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pairing: jenna ortega x reader

summary: after a date night and declarations of love, you and jenna get discovered by the public and feel a bit like kids again

warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of alcohol, running from fans, cursing, still mostly fluff

word count: 1.7k

A/N: this was originally called starfucker but i didn’t like the connotation it was giving the story, so i decided to change it to this title instead, which more clearly illustrates the vibe i was trying to give it. it has smut, which is why that was the original name, but i didn't like that it sounded that way

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"Jenna, no," you say with a groan, pushing gently at her wrist. It's holding up the elastic band of your underwear just below your navel, and she looks up at you from where she straddles your waist, with dark, hungry brown eyes, coupled with a cheeky smirk.

She's asking you a question in the gaze, and though you earnestly consider it for a moment, you shake your head. She frowns but gives up, shrugging and letting go of the band as it snaps back against the sensitive, soft skin there, before flopping down on top of you. "Later, then."

From where you lay down in the car, the streetlight overhead narrowly slips in and casts itself right over your eyes in a single band. You're too exhausted to shift with Jenna's head lying against your shoulder, so instead you raise an arm to cover your eyes, still trying to catch your breath.

"We took off everything but your underwear, you know," Jenna says, gently poking you in the ribs with her finger. At the small jolt the movement sends through your body, you feel her smile against your neck.

"Are you really complaining?" you say, laughing softly with your eyes still covered. At the noise, she lifts her head up from off of you, watching your chest rise and fall and propping her chin up on her palm. When you realise she's gone silent, you pull your arm away, only to find her watching you.

The hunger from earlier has faded- or maybe it still lingers. But now her eyes are soft and warm, flooded by the dim streetlight outside, and you're positive that they might be twinkling. You swallow the lump in your throat. "What're you looking at?"

Jenna shrugs. "Just you...," she admits, looking up at the foggy window and then back down. "Did you like your dinner?"

The question is disarming and far from what you had expected, and you must've let it show on your face, because she rolls her eyes with a fond smile. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just you're asking me about pasta, now."

She shrugs. "I was just thinking we could probably go there again, next week. Maybe I'll take Emma and Joy."

"You're a dork," you laugh, shaking your head at her ability to so suddenly shift moods. Five minutes ago she had been moaning out your name and coming for the third time; now she was planning dinner with your cast mates. "Do you think they know by now?" you ask, raising a hand to gently scratch at an itchy spot on your collarbone that was already starting to bruise with an imprint of her teeth.

Jenna shakes her head. "I don't think so. I mean, we're pretty good at hiding it." She pauses, smirking at you. "Or, at least I am."

"Hey, friends can tell each other they look pretty."

"Every day?" she raises her eyebrows at you.

"Well, if they look pretty every day...,” you imply. Jenna’s eyebrows raise even higher. “But fine, I'll start telling Georgie he looks pretty too, if it makes less obvious."

"(Y/n), baby, I think that would make it more obvious."

"Hm," you hum, putting your arms back and pushing up from the leather seats. You move back to lean up against the interior car door and Jenna follows you, leaning her head against your chest once you settle. "You have that big scene tomorrow, right? With Hunter?"

She nods against you. "That's what Tim said. I think he wanted to move it up the schedule. He wants to get it out of the way before we film the one with you because of CGI stuff. More time to work on it and make it look good, or something. I don't really know why, but he said the stages were super expensive and—"

"—I love you."

It leaves your lips before you can think twice, not that you would anyhow. There's just something about the fire in her eyes when she speaks. The small crinkle in her nose when she's talking about some sort of problem.

It catches her off guard, interrupting her train of thought to leave her with her mouth hanging open in surprise, and you immediately scramble to cover for the silence. "Sorry, you don't have to say it back if you don't want to. I know it's only been a couple months so—”

But she cuts you off with a kiss, reaching up and turning herself around in your lap. Her arms wrap around your neck, pulling herself flush against you, skin to skin, in a messy kiss, and you're left gripping tightly to her thighs, which bracket your waist. Jenna's hand weaves itself into your hair, tangling itself there as she makes no move to pull away or stop for air.

You can feel her lipstick smearing itself against your lips even more than before, and she pulls away for only a moment, before she reconnects with you, the very tip of her tongue meeting yours. You stay like that for a while but it still is not long enough, and she pulls away, leaving you both heaving, and attempting to catch your breath.

"I love you too," she nods against you, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose and then up on your forehead. "You stole my line."

"We can share," you hum against her, feeling your heart flutter in your chest. It's a miracle and a half, and you can remember in your mind just how much you almost refused to be on the show, and just how catastrophic that would have been.

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Neither of you are entirely sure just how long you sit in the car, but after what you later realise was twenty minutes of just sitting in silence, you both figure it's probably time enough to get home. Jenna clambers off of you, reaching forward to the passenger seat to where you had thrown her underwear and sweatpants.

You hear her groan as you're tugging your own socks on. "What's wrong?" you ask, raising your eyebrows at her in concern. It immediately goes away, when she turns back to you, holding her jumper up.

"Enrique is going to kill me. This is his, I asked to borrow it and you got it all wrinkly when you took it off."

"Sorry," you wince. "You just looked so pretty?" you offer, as a bad attempt at an explanation, and Jenna rolls her eyes at you, shaking her head with a smile.

"Come on, we need to get home," she sighs, looking a bit tired. By 'home' she really means her place. You have a flat of your own too, in the town you're filming in, but you've spent fewer and fewer nights there the more that you and Jenna began to talk. Even though you haven’t officially moved in together, she’s just started calling her place home, and intentional or not, you won’t correct her because that wouldn’t actually be correct.

Once you’re both dressed, you pull open the door of your car, helping her out and closing it behind her. You click the fob on your keys, looking around the car park for other people. It’s quite late, and you’re rather pleased that both the park and the street outside look empty.

Jenna’s walking a few feet in front of you, but with the empty street, you take complete advantage, catching up to her and grabbing her hand. She looks over at you with a worried expression, but it melts away to excitement when she realises no one else is nearby to ruin the moment. She laces her fingers in yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

Neither of you are too sure how long you can keep the charade going, or when you'll open up the internet and see you and Jenna on the very cover of some shitty tabloid, but it's nice to have your peace. Most people could just be peacefully in love in public, but for you and Jenna, it would always be a minefield.

You turn the corner with her hand in yours, both of you wearing sunglasses in the middle of the night to hide your faces. But it does nothing to stop the group a few feet away from stopping and staring at you. They're a bunch of teen girls, staring at you and Jenna with their mouths dropped open in immediate recognition, and immediately you see one take out her phone.

"Shit?"

"Shit," Jenna replies with a nod. Before you know what's happened, she's tugging you by the hand, dragging you behind her and breaking out into a gentle run. You follow after her, hearing the girls behind you begin to call out both of your names, but neither of you turn around.

It's a bit funny, and you're laughing as it happens, both out of the insanity of the situation and how fun it feels to run with her and the wind rushing past, and she pulls you into the doorway of her building, punching in the numbers and then grabbing you by the hand again.

You both race up the stairs and through the door, shutting it behind you, laughing like children at the insanity. You know your cover is blown. Someone would probably say something, and by morning those dreaded articles would be run. But you also know that if you were going to announce to the world that you loved anyone, you'd want it to be her.

Jenna giggles against you, leaning against the hallway of her flat to catch her breath. In between a couple of heavy breaths of your own, you whisper, "Do you think they saw us?"

She snorts. "I think it's safe to say so."

"Sorry," you frown. "It was kind of my fault... are you mad?"

But she shakes her head. "Not really. We both knew it would happen eventually. And, well... I love you. So really, what better time is here?"

You pull her gently into a kiss by your hand cupping cheek, holding her until you feel a hand inch towards your waistband again. "Really?" you laugh against her. "Now?"

"I did say later, didn't I?" she smirks.

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hope you liked it! had a whole bunch of fun and have been sitting on it for a while now, so it was good to finally get it out there!

Reader counting and kissing each of vada’s freckles. Would she like it? :)

She would love that omg

It would be so cute, like you two sitting in bed because she just loves hugging you.

Then your eyes laid on her face, noticing the freckles lining her cheeks and nose, something you found so endearing about her.

So when she noticed your staring, she asked you if you didn't like her freckles or something (she's probably insecure about it, like Jenna was). But then you reassured her by just kissing each of them with such a gentle love.

UGHHH

have you underneath all of my beliefs ~ eva x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself on a wellness retreat, where you meet eva, the presumed leader of the female empowerment group. as the days pass, her interest in you grows, and she’s determined to uncover every secret you keep, no matter what it takes.

warnings: smut (with plot), soft dom!eva, sub!reader, dirty talk, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, praise kink, aftercare if you squint

an: the long awaited eva fic is finally here!!!! i had so much fun writing this one, and i hope yall enjoy :,) she could manipulate me ANY DAY. (lmk if anyone is interested in a part 2, i have some ideas hehe)

18+ minors dni!!!

2k+ words

You hadn’t expected to stay this long.

The first day was filled with polite smiles, herbal teas, and long moments of uncomfortable silence as women from all walks of life tried to untangle themselves from the grasp of their inner demons. You kept your distance while still participating, not wanting to share much about your haunted past.

But Eva noticed you.

At first, it was subtle. A glance from across the communal fire. A brush of her hand against yours when she passed you a blanket or a cup of tea. But each day, her presence grew stronger. She didn’t speak often in group sessions, only doing so to lead them, but when she did, the others listened. Everything seemed to revolve around her, everyone looking up to her for guidance.

You’d catch her watching you during morning breathwork. Her eyes followed the way your chest rose and fell, studying every twitch in your expression. During meals, she always found a way to sit near you, never directly across, never too obvious, but always near. When you shared, which was a rarity, she listened with an intensity that felt almost invasive. Like she could see every unspoken truth inside you, waiting for you to bare more of yourself to her.

———

You returned to your room after the evening group fire, still feeling the weight of Eva’s gaze on you. She hadn’t said a word to you tonight, but she didn’t need to, she got her message across.

Your room was quiet when you stepped inside, the soft sounds of the woods humming outside your window. You moved to pull back your blanket, and that’s when you saw a folded piece of thick paper sat right in the middle of your pillow.

Your name was written on the front in soft, cursive handwriting. You picked it up and unfolded it with shaky fingers, reading the words over and over.

Come to the attic after dark. I want to talk. You’ve been holding something in. I want to help you let it out. -Eva

Your fingers stayed curled around the paper, gripping it tight, absentmindedly crinkling it a little.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, staring at the note, but you already knew it wasn’t up for debate, you had to face your fears this time.

———

The house was dark, hushed in the way it only got after everyone had gone to bed. You moved carefully, bare feet brushing over the wood floors, trying not to make a sound.

The note was still tucked in your hand.

Upstairs, a light flickered from the attic doorway. You hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, then slowly made your way up. The steps creaked softly under your weight. When you reached the top, the door was already open.

Eva sat in a chair, legs crossed, one hand resting against her cheek, her other holding a mug that steamed gently. Her robe was loose, the floral pattern falling off one of her shoulders. She looked up at you as you stood in the doorway, uncertainty etched all over your face.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she said softly, voice low. “But I hoped you would.”

You stepped inside, unsure whether or not to speak. The door shut behind you with a gentle click, and Eva set her mug down.

“You can sit,” she said, nodding toward the cushion across from her. “Or stand. Whichever feels more honest.”

You hesitated, then lowered yourself onto a cushion, heart beating a little too fast. The stained-glass window emanated colored light across the room, casting strange shapes on the wooden floor.

Eva smiled, watching you.

“I like when people come in nervous,” she said, her voice almost teasing. “It means there’s something worth digging into.”

You swallowed, fiddling with your fingers. “You said you wanted to talk.”

“I did,” she nodded. “But only if you’re ready.”

Her tone was warm, inviting you to slowly open up, but you remained silent as your eyes studied her.

“I’ve been watching you,” Eva continued, leaning forward just a little. “You keep your distance during the group sessions. You give just enough to look open, but you’re not. Not really.”

You shifted slightly under her gaze. “That’s not true.”

“No?” Her eyes lit up, like you’d said exactly what she wanted. “Then tell me something real.”

You hesitated, lips parting, but nothing came out.

Eva’s smile deepened at your silence this time. She uncrossed her legs and stood, walking toward you with slow, measured steps. She knelt in front of you, not quite touching yet, but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off her body.

“I can feel it on you,” she whispered. “Whatever it is you’re hiding. It weighs heavy.”

You looked away, and her fingers brushed under your chin, coaxing your gaze back to her.

“I want it,” Eva murmured. “All of it. I want you to give it to me. And I want you to want to give it to me.”

There was something in the way she said it, perfectly persuasive. Her thumb stroked along your jaw, like she was trying to coax a confession out of you.

“I know how to hold secrets,” she said. “I know how to take pain and turn it into something beautiful. But I need you to trust me.”

You blinked, your voice coming out quieter than you meant. “Why me?”

Her eyes didn’t leave yours, flicking down to your lips before quickly returning to your stare.

“Because you haven’t let yourself open up yet,” she said simply. “And I want to be the one who does that for you.”

Her hand slipped lower, resting over your chest, pressing gently over your heart, feeling the steady beats under her palm.

“Can I?” she asked, voice a whisper now. “Will you let me?”

The room had gone still at her question, the only sounds were your breathing, and hers. A slow, steady rhythm, like she knew how this night would end long before you stepped through the door.

Eva’s hand still rested over your chest, her palm rising and falling with every breath you tried to keep steady. You were trembling slightly, her presence leaving a heavy weight in the air.

“I can feel how much you want to let go,” she said, voice soft but sure. “You’ve been holding it in for so long, haven’t you?”

Your eyes burned and you didn’t know why, but you nodded.

“Good girl,” Eva whispered. “That’s the first truth. Now let me take care of you.”

You didn’t answer as your body leaned into hers instinctively, and that was all the permission she needed.

Eva kissed you deep, one hand cradling the back of your neck, the other sliding down your side, tracing your curves. Her lips were warm and soft against yours as she kissed you like she was memorizing the way you taste, and the sounds you made.

Her hand slipped under your shirt, her fingers felt hot against your bare skin. She traced along your ribs, your stomach, until her touch reached the waistband of your pants. She paused there, pulling away momentarily, her eyes locked on yours

“I want you to let me in,” she whispered. “Don’t hold back with me.”

You gave her a small, shaky but eager nod. She smiled as her lips met yours again, the kiss deeper than the previous one. She eased her hand beneath the fabric, her touch featherlight, but deliberate. Eva pushed your panties aside before she stroked slowly along your wet folds, her fingers sliding through your slit with ease.

“You’re already trembling,” she murmured, her voice low and soft. “You’ve been needing this, haven’t you?”

You whimpered, biting your lip.

Eva moved her fingers in slow, careful circles against your clit. Her lips stayed close to yours, placing soft kisses over your mouth, your cheek, and your jaw as you spread your legs a bit wider, wordlessly inviting her to go further.

She pushed two fingers inside you, deep and slow. The stretch made you gasp, and she held still for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling.

“Just like that,” she whispered. “You’re doing so well.”

She began to move her fingers, thrusting in and out of your heat, her thumb gliding against your clit in a steady rhythm. Your hips bucked up towards the touch, chasing the pressure as desperate moans fell from your lips.

“Stay with me,” Eva murmured, pushing your hip down with her free hand. “I want to feel you fall apart.”

Your muscles tightened, heat coiling deep inside you. Her thrusts sped up, but she didn’t rush you. She watched you slowly unravel, her voice anchoring you in quiet affirmations between kisses.

You’re safe. I’ve got you. Let it happen.

Your orgasm crashed over you without much warning, clenching down around her fingers as you threw your head back, a low but loud moan filling the quiet room. Eva held you through it, her fingers still moving just enough to help draw your climax out of you. You clung to her floral robe, your cheek against her shoulder, your body trembling in her lap.

But she didn’t stop.

Eva shifted you, gently laying you back against the cushions on the floor. She pressed soft kisses along your thighs, over your stomach, then met your gaze again as her fingers found your wet core once more.

“I know you can give me more,” she whispered. “But only if it feels good. Only if you want to.”

You were already nodding before you even realized, before your brain caught up to your body.

You didn’t have words anymore, just ache and need swirling low in your belly as she leaned over you. She gave you a quiet nod in return and leaned in, kissing your shoulder as her fingers pressed against your soaked cunt.

She easily slipped her two fingers inside of you again with a practiced curl that made your hips jerk. Your mouth opened in a sharp gasp.

“You can take it,” Eva whispered, lips brushing the corner of your mouth. “You need this. Don’t fight it.”

Eva stroked your clit in a lazy, circular rhythm, never faltering. Your body tensed immediately, already so close it hurt. You grabbed at her wrist to ground yourself.

The pressure built fast, almost too fast. Your body was still overstimulated from the first orgasm, and every stroke of her fingers now felt overwhelming. Your thighs tried to close around her hand, and she used her free arm to gently pin one down.

“Shh,” Eva cooed, breath warm against your cheek. “It’s okay. Let it happen. I’ve got you.”

Her fingers curled inside you, pressing against your sensitive sweet spot with every thrust. Your muscles tensed as your breath started turning shallow and quick, tears welling up in your eyes from the pleasurable overstimulation.

Your body stiffened, back arching painfully as your mouth opened in a silent cry as your second orgasm tore through you. It was white hot and too much, crashing over you in thick waves, dragging every sound out of your throat.

Eva held you steady as you came undone again. Her fingers didn’t stop moving, not until your body started to twitch, thighs jerking from the intensity, breath coming in soft sobs.

“There you are,” she whispered. “That’s it. Give it to me. Just like that.”

Your legs trembled uncontrollably, your hands gripping her arms as the aftershocks hit you hard. Your body was soaked and shivering as she slowly pulled her fingers out of your spent heat.

Eva gathered you into her arms, pulling you into her lap. Her touch gentle and soothing. She pulled a soft blanket over your body and held you close, rocking you slightly.

You felt weightless and empty in the best way, like something you didn’t know you were carrying had finally slipped free.

Eva brushed your hair back from your damp forehead and kissed you softly.

“You did so well,” she whispered. “You let go. I’m so proud of you.”

A small content smile formed on your lips as you tucked your face into her neck. You weren’t sure where to go from here, but you knew you didn’t want to leave.

my masterlist

And brother there's no place like home

all hers, part vi

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue

summary:  For as long as Tara could remember, she’d had this thing inside her. Ghostface!Tara origin story. 

warnings: 18+ reference to murder.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: sorry this one took so long, appreciate all the love for this fic! let me know what you want to see next, looking to maybe take some more smutty suggestions for gf!tara ;) 

Keep reading

can you write something short and fluffy :( like jenna or wednesday being tired or something

j's lullaby

"darlin' i'd wait for you, even if you didn't ask me to"

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pairing: jenna ortega x reader

summary: jenna comes home incredibly late and can't wait to collapse into your arms after a long day

warnings: nada, entirely just fluff and comforting someone's exhaustion

word count: 1.2k

A/N: sorry for getting to this now, it was requested months and months ago. feels good to write something sweet for once, and without somewhere to branch off to. i like writing my stories, but it's fun to leave so much up to the reader. maybe i'll do more of these.

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Even from inside the warmth of your apartment, it was impossible to be unaware of the raging storm outside. You could hear the pattering of raindrops upon the stucco roof in small thuds that had faded gently into the background a good thirty minutes ago and given no indication of letting up anytime soon, either.

Not that it would have mattered. You stood in the kitchen with the kettle going on the stove, attempting to read a rather enthralling chapter of your book in the dim, warm light that hung over your microwave, and then rereading it for a third or fourth time when the words became an unintelligible mess in your head, whether it be from the lack of light or sluggish ability to think.

It was a little too late to turn the kitchen light on, not that you were a big fan of the overhead light, but it would've brought a crude harshness to the drowsiness you were attempting to fight off.

Even night owls had their limitations. Sleep snuck up on you at the wispy edges, pulling down on your eyelashes. The clock on your microwave ticked to 4:28, and you turned the page in your book, hearing the kettle's whistle begin to take frequency, one you were sure the neighbours could hear.

In retrospect the somewhat thin walls were the only thing imperfect about the place, with giant windows and warm, teakwood floors. That and your kitchen's tile floor being kind of cold in the morning, but even then, both you and Jenna wore socks in the house, so it wasn't much of a drawback. You would only live there for a few weeks more anyhow, before you both went back to Los Angeles. In the meantime you could cope with the plush floor rug that Natalie had sent.

With one thumb on the thin page of your beaten up novel and the rest of that hand pinning it to the countertop, you lifted the kettle gently towards your old ceramic mug with the chip in the corner and a teabag’s string hanging over the side. The hot water steamed and gently wafted over the apples of your cheeks, and it added a further weight, the room filling with a flowery smell.

As you grabbed a small spoon from the drawer, the front door’s knob audibly turned, creaking open on its hinges and letting some of the nighttime noise flood in, if only for a moment. You grinned at the noise with an excitement that would’ve been impossible to mask, stirring your drink and calling over your shoulder, down the hall. “Hey, in here.”

The door swung shut behind her and a few, tired steps later, Jenna stood in the doorway. You stayed focused on the task at hand, stirring your tea, but you could feel her eyes stay locked upon your face. She wandered over, coming up behind you where you stood and wrapping her arms around your torso, pressing the plane of her cheek against your shoulder blade.

She held you tightly, as if she wanted to melt together. “You didn’t have to wait up for me. It’s almost 5 in the morning.”

“I know I didn’t have to,” you shrugged. “I wanted to.” Her arms wrapped around you just a bit tighter, holding you there and sighing into the soft, worn fabric of your old shirt.

“I made tea,” you hummed. “Do you want any?” She shook her head into your back, almost purring in contentment.

“‘M too tired,” she mumbled.

“Yeah, you got back late,” you said, pushing the tea mug away and turning around to get a good look at her. She was beautiful, that was a given, but she also looked exhausted, with thick, dark eye bags and the tips of her dark bangs a little bit wet from the rain outside.

“Tim wanted to talk about the big scene we have coming up,” she whispered. You hummed again, watching her with a little bit of concern and she looked back at you with a fondness.

“Come on, off to bed with you,” you straightened up, holding out your hand for her to take, and grabbing your book with a finger left between the binding to hold your spot.

She rolled her eyes with a gentle huff but did not protest, letting you lead her gently into your bedroom. There were still a few candles you had lit for just in case during the storm, filling your room with a yellowish, warm glow, and you blew them out while Jenna got changed into her pyjamas.

“Oh, your mum called, by the way,” you said with a gentle smile, pulling the sheets back to sit on the edge. You pulled your woollen, thick socks off and flung them towards the far wall; you could pick them up tomorrow.

She gave you a sleepy nod, wandering towards the bathroom and sliding the door open. “Just checking in?”

“Yeah, wants you to call her tomorrow… which I guess is now today. She wants to her all about work.” You thumbed open your book while you waited for her to finish brushing her teeth, reading a few lines before she reappeared about a minute later, flicking off the light.

Jenna walked right over, pulling the sheets back and then practically collapsing on top of you, her head nuzzling into your neck. You could feel the cold edge of her nose pressing gently against the edge of your jaw, and it sent a small shiver down your spine. You put the book on your bedside table, sliding your eyeglasses off of your weary ears and stacking it on top, along with clicking the lamp off.

You would’ve planted a kiss upon her forehead, but she seemed all too comfortable for you to shift your position, and you were quite certain— though you couldn’t actually see— that her eyes were already closed and she was letting her exhaustion take over.

“I missed you, today,” she whispered.

“I missed you too.”

“Hm.” You both sat in silence for a minute, and you were convinced she had dozed off until she spoke again, even quieter than before. “Tell me about your day, love?”

“Well, let’s see,” you sighed. “Got up around 10, maybe? Did laundry—”

“Thank you for that, by the way,” she mumbled, nuzzling her face further into you.

“Mhm. Went to the shops. Made dinner. Watched that show I told you about.”

“Did you write, today?” The words were sluggish and slow, and you could tell she was lulling to sleep more and more.

“Nope,” you said with a small chuckle, and you felt Jenna smile against your neck. “I’m still waiting for that burst of creativity, y’know? I’ll find it when I find it. What about you? How was your day?”

But she didn’t answer, and you were perfectly fine with that. You could ask her in the morning, after all. And you could drink the cold tea you had completely forgotten about then, too.

short, sweet, and pretty cute. i'm happy with it. i think oneshots are incredibly fun. also calm yourself, i'm still finishing kiss with a fist [iv] i cannot stress enough how much i'm excited for it but it is NOT ready yet

*Wednesday holding a gun to Enid's chest*

Enid: Willa don't do this, don't you love me?

Wednesday: I do love you Enid but I have to do it

Enid: Please Wednesday, I'll do anything, you can't shoot me

Wednesday: I have to, we both know it would come down to this

Enid: You don't have to, please, we can fix this

Wednesday: An Addams and a exquisite best like you can not be on the same side, that would be unfair

Enid: For you Wednesday I will take the hit.. just know, whatever happens I always love you

Wednesday: I love you too Mon Loup, forever

*Wednesday shoots Enid and she falls back onto the ground*

Yoko: You two are so fucking dramatic.. it's paint ball not the hunger games

Harmony in Whispers

Request: Mabel x female reader where reader sees Mabel and Charlie making out at a party reader gets angry and she leaves the party Mabel goes up to reader and says what’s wrong feeling are shared and reader goes back to Mabel’s house and then some really smuty smut pleaseeee!!!

It was a frigid night in New Bedford, where even the cold seemed to seep into your heart. Oblivious to this, you faced your battle-worn body mirror, reflecting the journey it had endured since it first entered your possession. A party beckoned—a gathering curated by none other than Mabel, a friend with whom your connection ran deep, a connection that simmered with unspoken emotions.

“What to wear?” you mused, your words punctuating the room as you sifted through your collection of attire, caught between the indie charm of blue wash high-waisted mom jeans, a yellow shirt, a brown belt, and reliable black boots, or the edgy allure of a long leather coat, calf-high leather boots, a black collared shirt adorned with whimsical blue and green designs, and a navy blue skirt. The allure of comfort prevailed, and high-waisted jeans became the chosen outfit.

A thumbs-up in the mirror, a final tousle of your hair, and then the soundtrack of the night began—the ring of your phone. A fumble, a scramble, and you answered Mabel's call. "Hey," you greeted. Mabel's voice echoed through the line, "I'm waiting outside." "Give me a sec, I'm coming," you declared, the symphony of lacing up boots and grabbing a jacket underscoring the unfolding moment on that chilly night.

Mabel's petite red car perched elegantly at the curb, waiting as you descended the steps. The cold had kissed your nose and cheeks with a light tint of red, prompting Mabel to crank up the heat before you hopped into her car. "Glad I could finally get you out of the house," Mabel quipped, a playful glint in her eyes.

“Well, it’s not like you promised me that you’d let me look at your journal,” you retorted, a hint of sarcasm lacing your words. Mabel shrugged, a nonchalant smile playing on her lips. "You know it was a pretty weak bribe. It was just hard for me to figure out exactly what would get you to come," she confessed, steering away from the curb as you embarked on the journey to Costa’s house, the designated party destination.

Costa, on the brink of parenthood, had decided to bid farewell to carefree nights with a memorable bash. "So, like, what is this, a pre-baby shower?" you inquired, stealing a glance at Mabel and admiring her side profile for a fleeting moment. “I guess,” she giggled, a contagious joy that brought a smile to your face, as the red car rolled towards the anticipated revelry at Costa's.

Mabel expertly maneuvered her car into the chaotic scene outside Costa's house, where a kaleidoscope of vehicles pulsed with music. "You nervous?" she inquired, extracting her key from the ignition. "No way," you replied, a fib hanging on your lips. "You'll be fine when some alcohol gets inside you," Mabel smirked, gracefully exiting the car. Jogging to catch up, you playfully asked, "Are you trying to leave me behind like a lost puppy?" "You'll have to find your way around sooner or later," Mabel shrugged, the music amplifying as you neared.

You hooked your fingers into her belt loop, refusing to be lost in the swirling crowd. At the drink cooler, Mabel handed you a bottle, saying, "I'm hoping this will bring the party girl out of you. Let's dance for a little, yeah?" "Um, sure, I guess...but I don't want to embarrass myself," you admitted, fidgeting with your beer. "Pretend it's just us," Mabel encouraged, pulling you into the dance floor, surrounded by pulsating energy. Amidst the chaos, your focus narrowed to Mabel, and suddenly, it felt like only her eyes were on you, prompting you to let loose.

_____

Dancing, beer pong, and pizza became a montage of moments with Mabel. Recalling her words, "I'd never leave you," which once comforted your fear of being lost in a crowd, now felt like a distant dream. Instead, you found yourself on a couch next to a passed-out stranger, clueless about Mabel's whereabouts and the location you had unwittingly ended up in.

Lost and uncertain, you instinctively reached for your phone, dialing Mabel's number, only to be met with silence. "Maybe she's sick of me," you mumbled, questioning your place in the night's chaos. The thought lingered — perhaps dragging you around like a lost child was wearing thin on her patience. Just as introspection settled in, a girl with a joint materialized beside you on the couch, offering, "Want a hit?" With a casual shrug, you accepted, the soothing smoke quieting your nerves and sparking an idea.

Amidst the pulsating beats, you realized you had Mabel's location on Find My. A determined resolve filled you as you opened your phone, embarking on a journey through the inebriated sea of people. The music throbbed, and the air was thick with sweat as you navigated the crowd, fueled by a newfound determination to find Mabel in the whirlwind of the party.

The scene unfolded like a heartbreaking movie moment, accompanied by the haunting strains of sorrowful music, casting a somber hue over the surroundings. Finally, you spotted Mabel, but the discovery unfolded in a way you hadn't anticipated. There she was, straddling Charlie, their bodies moving in a rhythm that spoke of an intimacy you wished to remain oblivious to. In the doorway, you became a silent, looming figure, a specter of disappointment.

Mabel's eyes met yours as she disengaged, and in that suspended moment, your feet found purpose. Swiftly, you forged a path through the pulsating crowd, a forceful determination propelling you forward. "Charlie, I've got to go," Mabel declared, untangling herself and heading in your direction. Yet, as rapidly as you had arrived, you evaporated. With Mabel's car left behind, you fished out your headphones, plunging into a playlist that matched the cold night closing around you. The wind became a symphony to your hurried steps, pushing you into the darkness as you walked away from the shattered scene, each footfall echoing the force of your wounded emotions.

Mabel raced outside the tumultuous party scene, weaving through the haze of coke sniffers and erratic drunks, desperately searching for you. However, you had already embarked on a solitary journey down the dimly lit road. "Y/n?" she called out, the echo of your name lost in the chaotic night. Realizing you were no longer part of the party, an event you reluctantly attended, she hopped into her car, the engine growling to life.

With the window down, Mabel cruised down the road, catching a fleeting glimpse of your silhouette walking alone. "Y/n?" she repeated, pulling up beside you. Your gaze met hers briefly, but you kept walking, cocooned in the sanctuary of your headphones. Determined, Mabel halted her car, stepping out to intercept you. "Don't ignore me," she demanded, extracting your headphones. Pulling away, you asserted, "Just get back to the party, Mabel. I'm going home."

Mabel, remorse etched on her face, reached out, grabbing your arms. "I'm sorry if I left you behind. I thought you could handle yourself," she apologized. You shook your head, knowing it went beyond being left behind. "What?" she pressed. "Nothing," you replied bitterly. "No, tell me," Mabel insisted. "It really doesn't matter now, Mabel. Go enjoy whatever you have planned with him," you retorted with a bitter edge. "You're jealous of Charlie? Are you serious?" Mabel shot back incredulously. "You know I'd like to have a romantic life. Maybe you should find one too if it bothers you that much. Hell, I'll even hook you up with one of Charlie's boys if it makes you feel better," she challenged.

"That's not what it's about. I fucking like you, Mabel!" you declared, your emotions breaking through as tears welled up in your eyes, laying bare the raw intensity of your feelings.

Mabel's lips quiver at your heartfelt confession. "Oh," she breathes, the weight of your words settling in the air. Turning away, you continue your path, concealing a sob within the shadows. Before you can distance yourself further, Mabel seizes your arm.

"I like you too, Y/n," she confesses, a soft admission that hangs in the charged silence. Skepticism colors your response as you take a step back. "No, you don't. You just feel bad," you assert. Mabel, determined, meets your gaze, countering, "Yes, I do. Why do you think I didn't want you to look at my journal? Why do you think I was kissing Charlie? I've been trying to fucking escape my feelings for you all night. Honestly, since we met." Each word is punctuated with an unwavering gaze, underscoring the sincerity that lingers in the air.

A heavy silence hung in the air as you absorbed Mabel's unexpected confession, your thoughts and emotions shrouded in mystery. "Come on, I'll take you home," Mabel sighed, frustrated by your impenetrable silence. The enigma of your thoughts irked her, leaving an unsettling void in the conversation. Without uttering a word, you complied, sliding into the passenger seat.

The car ambled down the road, the rhythmic hum of tires against pavement accompanied by the eerie whistle of the wind. An unspoken tension gripped the interior, a palpable discomfort that mirrored the uncharted territories between you and Mabel. The city lights flickered as you approached your apartment, and Mabel brought the car to a halt.

Park engaged, the two of you sat in a contemplative silence, each harboring unspoken words. The night air outside seemed to freeze in anticipation, mirroring the unresolved emotions lingering within the confined space of the car.

"Thanks for the ride," you uttered, the words feeling inadequate but unaltered, hanging in the charged air. Stepping out of Mabel's car, you ascended the stairs to your apartment, a silent resolve guiding your steps. Yet, Mabel wasn't ready to let you slip away.

"Fuck it," she muttered to herself, exiting the car and trailing behind you. "Y/n," she said softly, the weight of unsaid words lingering. You turned to face her, a silent exchange of emotions passing between you. "If you leave me now," she began, her voice carrying the lyrics of one of your favorite songs. "You'll take away the biggest part of me," you finished the lyric, a shared connection binding you in the delicate threads of a familiar melody.

In the moonlit stairwell, you descended a step, and Mabel ascended, creating a cinematic pause in the air. "I really like you...I mean that," Mabel confessed, her sincerity echoing through the quiet space. A smile played on your lips as you corrected her, "That's not the right lyrics." She retorted with a playful grin, "Shut up," leaning in to share a tender kiss.

As your lips met, the haunting notes of "Have You Ever Been" by Jimi Hendrix began to play in your mind, setting the scene for an intimate moment. Pulling away, Mabel inquired, "What are you thinking?" Her words hung in the air like a gentle melody. "That I really like you too, and you should come inside," you replied, fingers entwined, inviting her into the next chapter of the unfolding narrative.

"What song is playing in your head right now?" Mabel inquired, a knowing glint in her eyes, aware of your penchant for sharing such random details. "Hmmm, guess," you teased, nonchalantly kicking off your boots, Mabel mirroring your movements.

"Something by Jimi Hendrix," Mabel ventured, her guess hitting the mark. "Correct," you hummed, drawing her into a swift, affectionate kiss. Breaking away, you threw her a challenge, "What song is it, though?" A mischievous smirk played on your lips.

"You gonna keep asking me trivia questions, or are you gonna let me fuck you?" Mabel boldly questioned, her impatience cutting through the playful banter. "Depends," you shrugged, maintaining the playful tone. In response, Mabel silenced any further conversation, pulling you into a passionate kiss that swiftly escalated as she guided you onto the bed, the room filled with the sultry undertones.

In the intimate ambiance of the room, Mabel planted a series of open-mouthed kisses along your neck, a prelude to a scene painted with desire. Fingers deftly worked on unbuckling your belt, a playful mumble escaping her lips. "Why'd you have to wear a belt?" Mabel teased, to which you responded with a nonchalant shrug, "Extra protection." She rolled her eyes in mock exasperation as your pants finally yielded to her determined efforts.

"You're like poetry in human form, you know," Mabel whispered, her words resonating in the charged air as she pressed her face against your clothed intimate area, locking eyes with you. A sigh escaped your lips, a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability. "Is that what you write in your journal about me?" you questioned. Mabel, in a moment of teasing mystery, replied, "You'll find out soon," proceeding to remove the final layer of separation with a daring confidence.

As the gravity of the moment sank in, panic gripped you, the unfamiliarity of the situation making words stumble out. "Mabel...I've never done this before," you admitted, vulnerability coloring your tone. Mabel, a reassuring presence, responded with a comforting touch, kissing your lower stomach and coaxing, "Hey, relax okay? Just tell me what feels good and what doesn't. Does that sound good?" Her words acted as a balm, easing the tension.

"Okay," you sighed, a gradual calm settling in. Mabel, with a gentle confidence, positioned you for a more intimate view. "What a pretty flower," she hummed, leaning in for a tender kiss, seeking your consent with a glance. Breathless, you pleaded, "Do that again..." Mabel obliged, her kisses becoming a mesmerizing dance, eliciting soft moans from you. As her fingers edged towards uncharted territory, she nipped at your thigh, a teasing touch that left you yearning for more.

"Can I use my fingers?" Mabel asked, the gloss of arousal on her lips evident as she leaned up to share a passionate kiss with you.

"Yeah, just go slow," you whispered, your voice threaded with anticipation. Mabel, with a playful smirk, acknowledged your request. "Soft and slow, huh?" she teased, nibbling at your ear and tracing a trail of warmth along your neck as she delicately inserted one finger, the sensation sending shivers down your spine.

"I want to touch you too," you confessed, desire lacing your words. Mabel, however, had her priorities. "I never said you couldn't...but I want to make you cum first," she declared, punctuating the promise with a soft kiss. "Okay," you hummed, surrendering to the rhythm of the moment. Another finger slipped in, and a moan escaped your lips, nails digging into Mabel's shoulders as she skillfully maneuvered.

"You love that, don't you?" Mabel remarked, a bold move pulling your shirt up as she leaned in to kiss your exposed breasts. The scene unfolded like a sensuous tableau, each touch and word a brushstroke in the intimate masterpiece they were creating together.

In the crescendo of shared passion, it wasn't long before you reached the pinnacle of ecstasy, shaking and writhing beneath Mabel's touch. "You look so pretty like this," Mabel whispered, a simple yet profound observation that prompted you to lean up, capturing her lips in a sweet, post-climax kiss.

"I still want to touch you," you mumbled against her lips, a lingering desire fueling your request. Mabel, with a gentle consent, replied, "Okay..." The scene shifted as you sought guidance, seeking to navigate the uncharted waters of pleasuring her. "Can you show me how?" you asked, a hint of nervous excitement in your voice. Mabel nodded, her experienced hands gently guiding yours to her clit. "Put your fingers in," she instructed, the straightforward guidance easing your uncertainty.

"You're used to this, huh?" you inquired gently as you followed her lead. "Fuck," Mabel exclaimed, straddling you and grinding down against your fingers, the pace quickening as your lips met in a fervent kiss. "You're so... wet," you muttered, the evidence of her arousal coating your hand. Mabel, lost in the sensations, responded with an intensified rhythm, her face buried in your neck, a symphony of pleasure and desire painting the scene.

In the afterglow, Mabel quickly found ecstasy, her lips grazing your neck. "Impressive for your first time," she whispered. "Thanks," you replied, arms around her waist while she perched on your lap. A gentle kiss landed on your shoulder as she lingered.

"I think I know the song you had in mind now," Mabel hummed. Foreheads pressed together, you smiled, asking, "Oh yeah? What was it?" "Have You Ever Been," Mabel said. Pecking her lips, you questioned, "How'd you figure it out?" Mabel smirked mysteriously, "Can't tell."

Shifting to a journal, you mentioned, "Now for that journal..." Mabel, however, had different plans. "Can it wait till tomorrow? I just want to lay with you right now," she pleaded. "Yeah," you agreed. As the chill filled the room, Mabel grabbed clothes from a tattered drawer, tossing some to you.

Under the covers, you beckoned her with a smile, and she joined you, falling into your arms. Initiating the lyrics of "Have You Ever Been," you kissed her forehead. "To electric lady land," she mumbled, lacking energy. Chuckling, she playfully nipped at your neck as you both drifted into a serene slumber.

Ever since you dropped into my life… it’s like I put on glasses💥