My Girl Didn't Even Bother Hiding It (real Tho)

This is actually beautiful Tell me your secrets

Cairo Sweet x Fem Reader

Description: In the aftermath of Mr. Miller's heartrending rejection, A newcomer has arrived in rural Tennessee, bringing a touch of indulgence that resonates all the way to Cairo.

Chapter Four

You gently closed the book you were reading, rolling over in Cairo's bed to give her your full attention. "Yeah?" you answered, curious about what she had to say.

"Would you like to go to the Fall Ball together?" Cairo asked, her voice soft yet direct.

Part of you had been waiting for her to ask, but the way she phrased it caught you off guard. It sounded more like a friendly invitation than the romantic proposition you had imagined. Nevertheless, you knew deep down that you'd rather go with her than with Winnie, regardless of how she asked.

"Sure," you replied with a smile, masking your slight disappointment. "You never told me why you decided to attend, but I think I know now," you added, trying to lighten the mood with a hint of playful curiosity.

"Well, I just thought it might be nice to get back out there or something," Cairo deflected, her words lacking conviction. You nodded quietly, feeling a pang of disappointment at her response. Deep down, you sensed she was hiding something, but you couldn't quite decipher if it was because she didn't want Winnie to ask you instead or if there was a different reason altogether.

"I'm gonna head to bed," you announced simply, eager to distance yourself from the uneasy exchange. Cairo's frustration with your inscrutability was evident; she despised your ability to remain unreadable, leaving her to wonder about your thoughts and whether you were onto her crush.

"It's early," Cairo protested as you made to leave. You merely shrugged, leaving the conversation hanging in the air as you retreated to your own thoughts.

"Fuck," Cairo whispered to herself as she closed her door, already missing your presence and the warmth you brought to her bed. Moving to her bedside dresser, she lifted the small slab where she kept her cigarettes and other personal items, including a piece of clothing you had left behind—a tank top she had secretly claimed for herself. Bringing it to her nose, she inhaled deeply, reveling in your lingering scent with a soft sigh.

Lost in her thoughts, Cairo began to imagine what it would be like if you were with her right now, kissing her passionately and perhaps even more. But as she indulged in these fantasies, a wave of self-loathing washed over her. She realized just how infatuated she was with you, and she despised herself for it. Maybe, she thought bitterly, she should just let Winnie have you, sparing herself the torment of unrequited feelings.

She folded the tank top with care, placing it back under the slab before shutting the drawer with a sigh. Standing there for a moment, Cairo wrestled with conflicting thoughts before ultimately making a decision she knew she would berate herself for later.

With a resigned sigh, she crossed the hall to your room, her heart pounding with nervous anticipation. Gently knocking on your door, she waited for your response, feeling a surge of relief when you answered.

"Yeah?" you responded, still awake but clearly attempting to drift off to sleep.

Cairo pushed the door open slowly, her hand fidgeting nervously behind her back. "I was thinking... we could have a little Saturday night sleepover, if that's okay. It's fine if you decline," she said softly, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability amidst her attempt at nonchalance.

You sat up on the bed, peering at Cairo over your legs with a faint smile playing on your lips. "Come here," you beckoned softly, and Cairo felt her stomach somersault as she obediently crawled onto the bed towards you.

"Now you're sleeping over," you declared with a warm smile, and Cairo couldn't help but mirror your expression. In that moment, bathed in the soft glow of the room, she realized just how deeply she cared for you. But the realization sent a jolt of panic through her, and she quickly averted her gaze, unable to confront the overwhelming truth.

Cairo was a river of denial, her heart torn between the longing for your affection and the fear of acknowledging her feelings for you. But as she settled into the warmth of your embrace, she couldn't help but wonder if denying her love for you was simply an exercise in futility.

"So, what are you wearing to the ball?" Cairo asked, trying to distract herself from the tumult of emotions swirling within her.

"My mother's dress. It's the only dress I own. Wanna see it?" you offered, your voice tinged with a hint of excitement.

"I think I'd rather see you in it on the day of," Cairo replied quickly, her heart racing at the mere thought of seeing you in that dress now. She knew that if she saw you in it, she might just lose control over her feelings.

"Fair enough," you conceded with a smile. "What about you? What are you wearing to the ball?" you asked, redirecting the conversation.

"Possibly a pantsuit. Wanted to be a little more modest," Cairo answered, her tone tinged with a hint of self-consciousness.

"A suit... you'd look..." you trailed off, your mind conjuring an image of Cairo in a sleek pantsuit, but you hesitated to articulate your thoughts.

"Look like what?" Cairo pressed, her curiosity piqued by your unfinished statement.

"I don't know yet," you replied evasively, masking the truth of what you truly thought. In reality, you knew exactly how stunning Cairo would look in a suit, but you weren't willing to admit it, not when Cairo had maintained a certain distance from you. This reluctance to acknowledge your feelings irritated Cairo, evident in the subtle tension that hung between you.

"You do know you just won't tell me," Cairo blurted out, her frustration evident in her tone as she took the first step in vulnerability, allowing herself to be emotionally upset.

"What's it to you? You already know everything anyhow," you replied casually, shrugging off her accusation.

"You can't just start a sentence and then leave everything hanging," Cairo insisted, her gaze piercing into you with intensity.

"I can. Many great writers do it... What do you want me to say, Cairo? I don't like arguing with someone I'm living with," you responded, attempting to diffuse the tension with a touch of humor, though the underlying unease remained palpable between you.

Cairo moved closer to you, her breath mingling with yours as your noses nearly touched. "I want you to tell me what you were going to say," she demanded, her eyes locked with yours, radiating determination.

Feeling the pressure intensify, you held your ground, unwilling to concede. As Cairo's proximity enveloped you, you sensed the electric tension between you. But you couldn't let her win.

Leaning in slightly, you ghosted her lips, teasingly close. Then, with a sudden motion, you placed a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her away. Cairo's expression shifted to one of embarrassment, her mind fogged up from the closeness of your lips. For a moment, she nearly forgot the whole ordeal.

"I think I'd rather tell you on the day of," you said with a smirk, mocking her earlier refusal to reveal her plans. The playful jab served to diffuse the tension, albeit leaving Cairo flustered.

Your phone suddenly rang, interrupting the charged atmosphere between you and Cairo. As you answered the call, Cairo watched you closely, her thoughts swirling with unease. Why couldn't Winnie just leave you alone?

As you excused yourself to take the call in the bathroom, Cairo's suspicions only grew stronger. The tension in the air was palpable, and she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach. Was there something more between you and Winnie? Or was it simply Cairo's own insecurities taking hold?

As you answered the phone, you were met with unexpected sounds of moans and whimpers. "Hello? Winnie?" you said, your confusion evident in your voice.

"Oh, Y/n... Please, I need you. God, I just want you. I don't understand why you won't go to that ball with me," Winnie's voice came through, filled with desperation and longing. The implications of her words left you stunned, and you could only imagine what she might be doing on the other end of the line.

Feeling a surge of discomfort and unease, you struggled to respond, unsure of how to navigate the situation. The tension in the air thickened, and you couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to become even more complicated.

You decided not to engage with Winnie, especially given the strange circumstances of her call. As you emerged from the bathroom and settled back onto your bed next to Cairo, she couldn't help but notice your demeanor.

"What'd she want?" Cairo inquired, her gaze fixed on you, searching for any hint of what transpired during the call.

"She was begging me to go to the ball thing with her or something," you replied with a sigh, casually reaching for your water bottle on the nightstand.

"Oh yeah, she can be stubborn... What'd you say to her?" Cairo asked, her curiosity evident as she observed your body language closely.

"I just hung up," you replied nonchalantly, leaving out the finer details. Cairo sensed there was more to the story, but she didn't press further. While she harbored her own dislike for Winnie, seeing you hang up on her was a small victory. Still, she couldn't shake the nagging desire to understand the full extent of what had transpired.

Cairo hummed softly as you both settled under the covers, the quiet of the room embracing you. She was pleasantly surprised when you moved closer, a tender gesture that caught her off guard.

Playing with a lock of her hair, you recited, "Mirror of the night, your eyes green swords inside my flesh, waves between our hands."

"Mirror of the night?" Cairo echoed, leaning into your touch.

"It's from a poem I read today," you explained, your voice soft as you continued to caress her hair.

"I love it," Cairo responded with a soft smile, her eyes meeting yours with affection.

You smiled back, the connection between you palpable in the gentle intimacy of the moment. "I shall shut my eyes for slumber," you yawned, adding a whimsical touch with an English accent that elicited a chuckle from Cairo. As you both drifted off to sleep, Cairo felt grateful for the closeness you shared, even in the simplest of moments.

Oh so close but yet so far.

YES. YES. This is why I love you @sorrowedpickle 😫💖

Drunk in love.

g!p!Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, that’s it. Pure smut

a/n: i was eating sea food while writing this and so was @mommykye and @makncheese12 who were lovely enough to help with editing it so go follow them

Her touch was electric, a frantic exploration that sent shivers down your spine. Her fingers dug into your sides, pulling you closer as her lips remained glued to the sensitive curve of your neck, her breath hot and ragged against your skin making you shiver. The frantic rhythm of your pulse thrummed in your head as you fumbled through your purse to find the key card.

The memories of the Met Gala after-party swam hazily in your mind – the clinking of champagne glasses, the sound of laughter and conversations with so many people and friends of Jenna faint in the back of your mind almost near forgotten as you rush to get inside. The drinks had loosened your will to act right, painting the air between you with desire. Every glance, every accidental brush of skin to skin, had sent sparks flying through your core and even more through Jenna’s.

And now, her pressed against your back in the dimly lit hallway, the carefully constructed facade of polite conversation had shattered as whispers in your ear were said throughout the car ride. Her after-party dress, a shedded down version of her original dress, clung to her curves like a second skin, each movement a tantalizing display. Her hands, emboldened by the unspoken tension, slipped beneath the hem of your own short dress, sending a jolt of heat through you. You gasped as her fingers, insistent and knowing, traced the lace of your panties. Her teeth grazed the shell of your ear, a delicate torment that made you shudder with anticipation.

The fear of being seen, the awareness of the public space, spurred you to action. Your fingers finally closed around the cool metal of the key card. With a surge of adrenaline, you slid it into the lock and stumbled into the darkened sanctuary of the hotel room, Jenna a very close shadow pressed against your back before you turned in her hold as she kicked the door shut, a loud bang shouting out as it clicked.

The urgency intensified. Her hands worked swiftly at the zipper of your dress, a soft growl escaping her lips as the fabric gave way. Simultaneously, your own hands reached behind her, fumbling with the delicate strings of her corset. Your lips crashed against hers, a desperate, hungry kiss that tasted of expensive champagne and her intoxicating Dior perfume, a blend underscored by her own musk that sent your senses reeling.

The sound of tearing fabric filled the small space as she impatiently pulled the expensive dress she had tailored for you down your body, the delicate material pooling at your feet, discarded without a second thought. Her hands, now with uninhibited access, roamed your skin, mapping the contours of your body with a feverish intensity. You, in turn, finally managed to untie the intricate lacework of her corset, releasing her from its structured embrace no thanks to her as she made it much harder for you, more focused on getting you naked than herself.

Before you could fully register the change in atmosphere, you were pushed forward, stumbling onto the plush surface of the bed. She followed, a lack of grace in her movements as she crawled on top of you, her gaze hot and filled with a raw desire that mirrored your own.

Her dark eyes, wide and dilated, raked over you. "You look so pretty like this," she whispered, her voice husky with longing. Your hair fanned out against the pillows, breath catching in your throat as you stared up at her, every nerve ending alight with anticipation. Your own hands reached up, fumbling with the buttons of her silk button up, eager to feel her skin against yours.

Her lips left a trail of fire down your neck. "beautiful," she murmured, her breath hot against your flesh. A shaky laugh escaped your lips. "You're one to talk." The words were barely out before your hands found her waist, pulling her down between your legs, a silent plea for the friction you both craved.

A husky laugh rumbled in her chest, a sound that vibrated through your core, igniting a firestorm of sensation. You felt her hand reach behind you, fumbling and almost struggling with the straps before pulling them apart and quickly discarding the offending fabric joined your dress on the floor. In the next instant, her lips closed over your nipple in a swift motion, a sensation so intense that coherent thought dissolved into a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

you moan quietly, hand reaching to the back of her hand as you hold her there while your other hand works to find the strap of her own bra.

The tug on her bra strap was clumsy but effective. The delicate lace parted, and you finally had the skin-on-skin contact you craved. Jenna shifted above you, her weight a delicious pressure. Her mouth left your breast, trailing kisses down your sternum, each touch sending jolts of electricity through your already heightened senses.

Jenna’s breath hitched as your fingers finally released her bra. The immediate skin-on-skin contact sent a fresh wave of desire crashing over you both. She shifted, her silk shirt falling off completely, revealing the soft swell of her breasts and below the band of her boxers. Her dark eyes locked with yours, a silent, hungry conversation passing between you.

Her hand slid down your stomach, her fingers dipping beneath the elastic of your panties once more, finding the slick heat waiting there. You gasped, your hips lifting instinctively as she explored you with a practiced touch.

“God, you feel so good,” she groaned, her voice thick with lust. Your hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head back as she fought to rain kisses down your jawline.

Without warning, she shifted again, her weight pressing you further into the mattress. Her lips found yours once more, a deep, open-mouthed kiss that left you breathless. Her tongue tangled with yours, a frantic dance of desire. You could taste the lingering champagne and something else, something uniquely her, that drove you wild.

She broke the kiss abruptly, her gaze intense. “I want you to taste me,” she rasped, her hand still firmly between your legs, her fingers teasing and probing. Your own hands reached for the hem of her boxers, your desire a tight knot in your belly.

“Then let me,” you managed.

Jenna didn’t hesitate. With a rough tug, she pulled down her boxers, revealing the impressive length and girth of her hard dick. It pulsed visibly, thick and heavy, the head already glistening. She moved, a low growl rumbling in her chest, and lay back against the pillows, her eyes never leaving yours.

Your breath came out ragged. You moved to lay on your stomach and reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as you wrapped them around the shaft. It was hot and solid, filling your hand completely. Jenna groaned, her hands moving to your head to grip your hair tightly as she watched.

You leaned down, your lips brushing against the velvety head. She inhaled sharply, her hips lifting slightly off the mattress. You took her into your mouth, the taste instantly familiar and intoxicating. You sucked deeply, your hands working up and down the length of her dick, relishing the feel of her throbbing against your tongue.

Jenna’s moans grew louder, more desperate. Her hands tangled in your hair, guiding your head, urging her dick deeper down your throat. Her hips bucked against your mouth, a frantic rhythm that mirrored the frantic beat of your own heart. You could feel the tension building in her body, the anticipation radiating off her in waves.

The taste of her was potent, arousing you further. You swirled your tongue around the head, paying special attention to the sensitive underside. A strangled sound escaped her lips, fingers tightened in your hair, a silent plea for more.

After what felt like an eternity, she pulled you back slightly, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her eyes were glazed with lust, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson.

“Fuck, baby,” she groaned, her voice thick and raw. “You feel so good. So fucking good.”

She moved again, her hands gripping your thighs, pulling your legs open. You instinctively parted them further, your own desire a burning ache between your thighs. She positioned herself between your legs, the hard head of her thick dick pressing against your slick, swollen pussy. You gasped, a primal sound of anticipation escaping your lips.

“Please, Jenna,” you whispered, your hands reaching for her hips, guiding her closer, desperate for the connection.

With a guttural groan that seemed to tear from her very core, she thrust forward, her dick sliding deep inside you. You cried out, a sharp intake of breath as she stretched you open, the sensation both intensely pleasurable and momentarily overwhelming.

She paused for a fraction of a second, letting you adjust, her hands gripping your hips tightly, her gaze locked on your face.

Then, she began to move.

Her thrusts were deep and rough, fueled by the alcohol and the raw, desperate need that had been simmering between you all night. The worn bedframe slammed against the headboard with each powerful movement, the rhythmic thudding echoing in the small room like a frantic heartbeat. You wrapped your legs around her waist, meeting her forceful thrusts with your own instinctive movements, your hands gripping her back, digging your nails into her skin, leaving long red marks in there wake.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” she grunted, her breath hot against your ear, the words laced with a desperate edge. “So fucking good.”

You were both slick with sweat, your bodies moving together in a primal, almost violent rhythm. The world outside the hotel room ceased to exist. There was only the intense friction, the deep penetration, the desperate gasps and moans that filled the air, punctuated by the relentless banging of the bed.

Breaking her relentless rhythm, she suddenly flipped you over with surprising strength, manhandling you onto your hands and knees. You barely registered the abrupt change in position, your mind completely consumed by the intense sensations flooding your body. Her hands gripped your hips, lifting you slightly as she slammed into you from behind, her thick dick hitting your deepest point with each forceful thrust.

“Like this, baby?” she growled, her voice thick with lust and a hint of something almost feral.

“Yes,” you gasped, your head thrown back, her hand tangling itself into your hair while her other hand pushes you down between your shoulder blades. “Oh god, yes, Jenna. Fuck me.”

The force of her thrusts was almost brutal, the bed rocking precariously beneath you, threatening to give way entirely. You could hear the wood creak and groan under the immense strain, but neither of you cared. You were both too far gone, lost in the intoxicating, almost violent frenzy of your drunken, desperate coupling.

Jenna’s hands roamed your body, squeezing your waist, pulling you closer and pushing you down, her fingers digging into your skin, leaving faint trails. Her teeth grazed your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, a primal claim. So much different than her usual calm public figure.

The rhythmic pounding continued, faster and harder, the urgency escalating until you both teetered on the precipice. You cried out, your body clenching around her thick dick as wave after wave of intense, shuddering pleasure washed over you, stealing your breath. Jenna groaned loudly, a primal sound of release tearing from her throat as she pumped into you one last time, her entire body shuddering with the force of her orgasm before collapsing on top of you, her weight heavy and utterly satisfying.

You both laid there for a moment, taking a moment to breathe and stay in the small embrace.

“More,” Jenna mumbles suddenly, breaking the silence as a sudden burst of energy courses through her.

You moan softly as she yanks you to the end of the bed, legs falling off as she positions herself inside of you again.

~~~~~

The frantic energy of moments before dissolved into a heavy, sated silence after hours of Jenna endlessly pushing both your limits. The only sounds were the shallow, rapid breaths escaping your lips and the deeper, rumbling inhales and exhales of Jenna’s body pressed against yours. Her weight, which had felt electric and demanding just moments ago, now felt comforting, possessive. Her still-hard dick remained buried deep inside you, a lingering reminder of the raw intensity that had just consumed you both.

A small, involuntary whimper escaped your lips as you shifted slightly beneath her. The friction, though dulled, was still undeniably present. You could feel the faint throbbing of her pulse against your inner walls, a subtle echo of the storm that had just passed.

Jenna mumbled something incoherent, eyebrows furrowing before relaxing, her face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, her breath warm and damp against your skin. Her grip on your hips gone, but she remained connected with them wrapped around your torso, her body a dead weight atop yours.

You ran a hand through her sweat-dampened hair, the dark strands clinging to your fingers. The scent of her – the lingering perfume, the musky undertones of exertion, and something uniquely Jenna – filled your senses. A wave of tenderness washed over you, a stark contrast to the almost violent passion of your lovemaking.

A soft snore escaped her lips, a clear indication that exhaustion and the lingering effects of the champagne had finally claimed her. Her body remained intimately joined with yours, a testament to the depth of your shared pleasure.

A wry smile touched your lips. You could only imagine the state of the bed, the rhythmic banging against the headboard echoing in your mind. You made a mental note to discreetly inquire about any potential damage to the furniture upon checkout. The image of the worn frame protesting under your combined frenzy was almost comical now, in the quiet aftermath. not to mention the embarrassment you’ll encounter.

Your gaze drifted to the discarded remnants of your expensive dress and her tailored gown, lying in crumpled heaps on the floor. They were casualties of your mutual desire, ripped and disregarded in your haste to be closer.

A fresh wave of desire stirred within you, a low thrumming in your core. The thought of waking up with her still inside you, the promise of a slow, deliberate awakening filled with lingering touches and whispered promises, sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You imagined the lazy stretches, the soft moans as she became aware of your intertwined bodies, the inevitable renewal of your passion.

You shifted again, trying to get more comfortable without fully dislodging her. The slight movement caused a soft groan to rumble in her chest, and she instinctively tightened her grip on you, a possessive reflex even in sleep.

A surge of affection welled up within you. This raw, unguarded intimacy, so different from the carefully curated public persona she presented, was a privilege. You knew, with a certainty that resonated deep within you, that when Jenna woke, still intimately connected to you, the night was far from over. The frantic exploration might give way to a more languid, sensual awakening, but the intensity of her desire would undoubtedly remain. And you would be there, ready to meet it, your own body already anticipating her touch.

—————

Tagslist: @skate-to-breathee @wol-fica @raven-ss @restlessdot @dumb-fvck104 @crazyoffher @rhythm-catsandwine @makncheese12 @jennasslut@t-wylia @pnsteblnme @mar-romanova @ssinfulprayers @hellenheaven @btrizi @furry-monster-trash @je-tts @mokotodenis123 @ajortga @jensortega813 @bluetreecloud20

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I haven’t posted these in a while so here is some wenclair incorrect randomly generated quotes to feed your wenclair addiction

how to draw arms ? ? 

Paul talking about Jenna. She really is the coolest

Why do I love her even😑

Cause she's so cute that's why

So, um, yeah, I'm in love with this dumbass.

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

head over heels, your hand over mine

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: ^ request!

Words: 5.0k

Warnings: longer than i intended it to be

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

seq. || masterlist

Shit, shit, shit...

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

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

Jenna could almost blame herself for this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Meet my daughter, Y/n."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why should she be so head over heels for you?

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

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

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

It's sweet. Almost endearing to her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, that seems about right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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And that was maybe two to three months ago.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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That was atleast three to five hours ago.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

y/n

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

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

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

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

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

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You waited for 2 hours.

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

In fact, you had feelings for Jenna.

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then it stopped. The both of you pulled back.

But your heart never did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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just some fuckass aftermath dialogues:

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

...

Every time one of my friends explains something about Plurality to me I have to fight the urge to ask if they're "More people per people" cause of this fuck ass post

I fucking LOVE those books !!!

You're ten and you just picked up a book about the Greek Gods and you don't really like reading or you love it too much but you adore the book because look, it's me! It's me, a kid who doesn't do their best in school and has a sucky dad and a sad mom, and look! So does this guy!

So you tear through the series and watch the movies, and they suck. They're just not right and it made you sad, but now you're in middle school, and look! There's a whole other series about the same characters! And a musical and people online love this series as much as you do, and what's Tumblr? What's Wattpad? And there are your characters, in whole new stories!

And now you own the whole series, can recite all the myths, but you're moving on, it's almost high school, life gets in the way, but you still go back sometimes, just to remember.

And now it's high school and there's all these people you don't know and things to learn and a life to plan, and you're getting tired even though things just started.

And then it's the weirdest year of your life and you haven't seen anyone and everything is just a mess. Maybe you're still in school, maybe you just left, but one night, there's an announcement?? And the author of that series you loved is saying that you loved it enough to make a series??

You don't believe it, of course you don't, it's been a year of canceled projects, and you haven't heard anything for a while. But then, out of nowhere, there's a casting announcement and those characters in your head have real life faces, and maybe they don't look quite how they're supposed to, but it's them.

So now you believe it, but things are still going so slow, so it's easy to forget, but then there's a teaser! And it makes you want to cry because there are words that have only been in your head being said out loud and it happening! It's really happening! But there's still such a long wait and it seems like it'll never happen.

And then there's a trailer, a real one, and posters and a release date for this year??

But it's still so long, so you reread all those books that made your childhood, until everything is fresh.

And then it's a month.

A week.

And now it's tomorrow.

It's tomorrow and you can't wait. It's tomorrow and you're terrified. It's tomorrow and everything is different from what it was ten years ago, and you're such a different person, but how can that matter when you're so excited?

Because you won. We all won. And tomorrow, everything is different because you're not just wishing, not just hoping, but living.

So here's to us, demigods. We won.