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crazyoffher · 4 months

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HDMI.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now clean it all up.”

☟

hey guys :p

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

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woewriting · 7 months

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cherry lips

pairing: wednesday addams | reader warnings: mdni! ooc wednesday/soft wednesday, established relationship, implied sex at the very end, no pronouns used but the word 'girlfriend' is used once. word count: 1521 a/n: i'm late for wdw, i know, but i couldn't let y'all and @wesstars down... better late than never, right?

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When you moved to the small town of Jericho and started working at the only coffee shop around, you didn’t expect to get anyone’s attentions, especially from the local “freaky”. Wednesday Addams was full of surprises and secrets and, apparently, everyone here knew a bit about her.

Gossips followed you around like fog in the morning after a raining night, the eccentric Addams always being the subject that echoed inside the brownish walls of the café.

“I’ve heard she eats raw meat,” a high school student dressed in black and blue uniform said to her friend, no caring enough to at least whisper.

The other just nodded, not paying attentions to her surrenders, not even when the little bell above the entrance door jingled.

“My father told me her dad killed someone in Nevermore when he was a student… imagine being the daughter of a killer.”

“Imagine being the daughter of a former police officer who was expelled from the police force for not being able to solve a simple case that happened more than 20 years ago.” The tranquil voice caught your attention, causing you to turn on your heels behind the counter.

Wednesday was standing next to the table where the two students sat, arms crossed and a deadly shine in her eyes. You smiled.

“Miss Addams, please stop terrorizing the small girls, they know nothing about life,” you spoke once you saw the reddish color in the girls’ cheeks.

“They better learn fast; life is not gentle.” She turned her head to you. “And neither am I.”

“Oh, should I fear for my life?”

You tilted your head, trying to get Wednesday’s attention in order for the girls to go back to the other students of Nevermore. The raven girl redirected her body towards you, taking steps until she was standing in front of the cashier.

“You most definitely should.”

Head motioning for the girls to leave, you placed both of your hands on the icy, black marble that covered the top of the counter.

“If I die, who’s going to make you your favorite cherry muffin?”

“Before I met you, I survived just fine without the sweetness of it in my daily life, I’m positive I can do it again once you’re gone.” She lifted her chin. “Now stop staling and bring me a double espresso, no sugar and a cherry muffin before I start terrorizing you instead.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes as she turned to sit on the costumery table.

Putting the cherry muffin in a plate, you turned to the Italian coffee machine with an empty white mug in hand and freshly brewed coffee in the other.

As the bitter liquid slowly filled the porcelain, flashes of the first time you were face to face with Wednesday took over your memory. She was so small in her black and white Nevermore uniform, looking like an old school cartoon, disappearing behind the other students as she patiently and quietly waited in line to order. She stared at you, taking two steps ahead when the last person in front of her moved away with their order in hands, taking a seat with the others, black eyes that didn’t blink and looked dead, the pale white skin didn’t help either. Not a single mark on it, you noticed, except for the adorable freckles that spread over her small nose bridge and covered the surrounding area of her cheek bones.

She was polite and calm, unlike the others, speaking in a monotone voice that actually surprised you.

Wednesday ordered a small size espresso with no sugar. You offered her a muffin, freshly out of the oven and still warm. She was reluctant in saying ‘yes’ at first, but something in you convinced her.

Once the mug was filled, you placed it side by side with the muffin, smiling and murmuring a small ‘I hope you like it’, to which she replied with: “Thank you,” extending her hands to take the plate and mug of the counter.

She looked at the red-blood muffin before looking at you, giving you a small nod of her head before walking to an empty table.

You watched as she sat herself down and stared at the small cake in front of her, you licked your lips, curious to know if she would like it or not; it was your favorite, after all.

Wednesday tilted her head to the side, analyzing the sweet in front of her, internally admiring the color of it and how the powdered sugar on top of it reminded her of snow covered in blood.

Taking the wrap of it, she hesitantly took a bite of it, slowly chewing it. You bet your lips, anxiously standing behind the counter. She then took another bite, and another one, and another one, rapidly finishing the muffin.

You smiled to yourself, finally changing the focus of your attention.

Now, almost 7 years of the first interaction, you still secretly admired Wednesday as you waited for the coffee to fill the small sized mug. But now was different, she started drinking a double espresso to maintain her brain awake and cherry muffins became a part of her daily life.

But only if it was made by your hands.

Once the porcelain turned bitter black, you left your place from behind the corner and sat them down in front of the goth, taking the empty seat in front of her.

“Thank you,” Wednesday said simple, eyes focused on the yellowish pages that had all her attention.

“A new case?” You asked, curious, taking a look around the nearly empty coffee shop.

“A runner found two dead bodies in the woods on Saturday, the captain assumed I’d be interested and gave me the case this morning.”

You pursed your lips, a tight knot in your stomach as your eyes analyzed the super graphic images that decorated the table. Pushing the images away from your point of view, you wondered how Wednesday could eat the red-blooded muffin while looking at actual blood.

As if she could read your mind, black painted nails reached for the small cake, her eyebrows sewing together once she saw what you did, “Care to explain what this is?”

You pursed your lips, containing a smile. On top of the sweet, a white skeleton’s head was drawn, black, deep-hollowed eyes filled with dark chocolate chips with a sewed-like smile under and dark red blood dripping from its eyes.

“I made it for you, Halloween is near, and I figured you’d like it.”

“I can see that. What I want you to explain is why there’s blood coming from its eyes. Bones can’t bleed, there’s no tissue that can carry blood vessels or veins, it's just bones.”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s a cupcake, Wens. Just eat it.”

“Fine.”

When she took the first bite, dark red filling dripped onto her hands. It was a mix between the sweetness of sugar and the sourness of cherry combined that only you could do it perfectly.

“So… did you like it?”

Wednesday chewed and swallowed everything, licking her lips to capture the remained syrup, missing a small drop on the corner of her mouth. The tip of her fingers covered in the cherry liquid.

“It’s too sweet, next time don’t add any sugar to it. It’s not healthy. And it’s also too sticky and messy. I need a napkin.”

Reaching out for her hand, you sucked the tip of her fingers, closing your eyes at the sweetness that filled your mouth.

“You don’t need a napkin, you have a girlfriend to clean it for you.”

Wednesday widened her eyes at your action, looking around to make sure nobody saw that. The coffee shop was empty as it was almost noon and everyone was either at work or at school, only the two of you occupying a space inside.

“That was unnecessary.” She said with an affected tone.

“It was very necessary, I needed to see if it was too sweet.” You stood up, taking the empty plate in hands. Before returning to the kitchen, you leaned into her personal space, noses touching and the smell of her perfume filling your senses, that small drop being the only thing you saw in front of you. “You have some here too.”

The moment the tip of your tongue licked the red syrup, so close to her lips, Wednesday grabbed the mug near her hands, squeezing it hard enough to break if it was made of fragile material.

Before standing up properly, you pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, tasting the sourness in it.

“I’ll make sure the next ones aren’t too sweet for you, cara mia.” You winked, rapidly walking back to the counter to start preparing the muffins for the afternoon clients. And for your bitter girlfriend that cursed you under her breath for fogging up her brain with your tongue, taking away all the concentration she needed to solve this murder case. One that would need to wait after she locked the door, turned the open sign to ‘closed’, and dragged you by the hand to the supply closet.

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wesstars · 7 months

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hot tea

wednesday addams x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: your addams just really needs some physical contact :) wc: 737 tags: established relationship. nevermore ‘university,’ all characters involved are 18+. ooc wednesday. idk something about tooth rotting fluff a/n: first wednesday drabble wednesday, in collaboration with @evilrawr! fluff has been requested by @melrodrigo. still not my strong suit but we’re going for it anyway.

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Steam rose from the warm mug that you carefully wrapped Wednesday’s fingers around, but the heated ceramic was nothing compared to the searing lance of your grasp around her wrist. She watched as you settled yourself down on bended knee in front of her, respectfully pulling back your hands. Her own twitched, minutely.

It hadn’t been that difficult to come knock on your door, 10 minutes before curfew was over. Wednesday knew you’d be there in your dorm, making something absurdly sweet with your—respectably contraband—electric kettle. You’d stepped aside to wordlessly let her in, and she’d taken her usual seat at the foot of your bed. Strewn around were your day’s assignments, a jacket or two, and she wrinkled her nose at the mess. Your lamps cast a gentle candle-eseque light across everything, blurring every sharp edge. The exact reason why she was in your room, well…

“Long day?” Your gaze was inquisitive but warm, as always. Wednesday watched you, taking in your socked feet and soft pants. Then, she did the Wednesday Addams equivalent of what might be considered a frustrated huff from Enid, or a desolate sigh from you: she looked away first.

The reaction was immediate, she noted absently. You tried to catch her gaze again, the slope of your shoulders and the wring of your fingers imploring her to look back at you. “Weds… talk to me?”

She took a slow sip from the mug, avoiding your eyes. To tell the truth, Wednesday was busy aching in the way that she wished you’d reach across the sea between your knee and hers. Her intense feelings were something that she typically kept locked away, not just with the protection of a key, but with a castle moat, bolted doors, and plenty of booby traps. Inside that cage lay other previously dormant feelings, ones that you managed to pull out, sharp knife to soft underbelly, with startling ease. Wednesday set her mug down on the floor, cocking her head at you. Often she’d feel a baser, visceral urge to blurt out whatever thought she had to you. Restraint was becoming more and more difficult, the more you seemed to flay yourself open in front of her for a perusal akin to autopsy.

There was a muffled thump as you got up just a bit to shift from your kneeling posture, and Wednesday couldn’t take it anymore.

She grabbed the collar of your shirt, pulling tightly until you were about nose to nose. Her mind knew that your actual body temperature wasn’t that high, even lower than the average, but her cold heart felt the bone-deep bonfire of your proximity as your hands slammed into the bed next to her thighs, preventing you from tumbling into her. You took a sharp breath, a fateful one, as it seemed to pull all the oxygen from the room, leaving Wednesday blissfully bereft of that life force. She didn’t need it, anyway; she was convinced she could sustain herself on the dilating of your pupils, the flickering of your eyes down to her lips.

“Come here.” Wednesday’s voice came out in a rasp, but she reasoned with herself—it was the best she could do after you yanked the air out of her still lungs. That ache of absence turned into a yawning chasm, reserve and restraint tumbling down into that eager maw. Her demand fell into that same ravine, eclipsed by the endless depth of darkness.

You stood from your position to sit on the bed as soon as the plea left her, and Wednesday was impressed at your speed. You pulled her into your arms not a beat later. Everything smelled like a faint mix of linen and honey, between your sweater and your tea, and something in it brought Wednesday’s world to a halt. The skin of your collar was warm against the tip of Wednesday’s nose, grounding like the nip of winter air. The two of you fell easily into your sheets, and Wednesday’s mind finally felt like it had found the smoking gun for the investigation. It settled like a content cat right in her diaphragm, making it easy to breathe you in.

“Is this what you wanted?” Your voice, already sleepy, sent vibrations down Wednesday’s spine. She hummed back, leaning her temple up against your shirt and letting her head fall onto your chest. You didn’t say a word more; you didn’t need to.

a/n cont'd: so... playing with words… what do we think :0

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

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melrodrigo · 1 month

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needles - tara carpenter

Tara Carpenter x Fem Reader

A/N: A little drabble bcz god knows we need it in this drought

“But baby I don’t wanna!” You whine, gripping Tara’s arm and burrowing yourself into her.

You feel the vibrations of her giggle before you can hear it, that silent wheeze that belongs only to your girlfriend.

“I know you don’t want to, but it’s good for you. I promise i’ll be right here.” She mummers, trying not to draw attention to the two of you.

You’re sat next in line for a vaccine shot, and although you know it is good for you, you hate needles.

“Ugh. God really gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers.” You announce dramatically.

Tara smirks just the slightest; and you poke her in the sides.

“Is this really your toughest battle?” She teases.

“I’m just a girl.” You grumble, heart picking up as the nurse gestures that it’s your turn.

“You’re speaking in brain rot right now.” Tara muses, gripping your hand in an attempt to calm you down.

Bless her, it doesn’t.

When you finally get in the seat you swear sweat is dripping down your face. The nurse gives you a small sympathetic smile.

“Not good with needles, dear?” She asks, cleaning her supplies.

You chuckle nervously, embarrassed but relieved that the nurse acknowledged it.

“A little.” You say, and slap Tara when she lets out a snort.

“Is this your girlfriend?” The nurse asks again, not unkindly.

You beam, looking over at Tara. She’s as pretty as ever, her long brown hair messy because of the wind.

“Yeah. I’m the luckiest girl in the wor- ah!” You yell in surprise, feeling a prick at your arm. You don’t dare look down.

Tara stifles another chuckle, and you send her a glare.

“Sorry about that sweetheart, I find distraction helps most people with Trypanophobia.” The woman says, rubbing your back.

“Aaaand you’re all done. Good job.” Tara whispers as you stand up, a little shaky.

“Stay here for 15 minutes. If you feel nauseous or weird, come find me immediately. If you’re all good, you can leave.” The nurse instructs, nodding for the next person in line to come up.

You nod adamantly, trying to convey that you’re really listening to her. You focus on her eyes, she has really pretty eyes, big and brown like Tara’s.

You feel a little tug at your waist and feel Tara dragging you back a bit.

The both of you find a seat somewhere close to the hospital, arms intertwined.

“Don’t you think that nurse was kind of cute?” You ask mindlessly, thinking back to the scene.

Tara raises an eyebrow, but her little smile tells you she isn’t annoyed. She’s amused.

“I guess. Not really my type.” Tara sighs, moving in closer to you.

She takes her pointer finger and places it on your bottom lip, getting a hitch from you.

“My type is sitting right in front of me.” She says, voice dropping a few octaves. You know what she’s doing, she loves to tease you like this. You’ve always had a weak spot for her voice.

You flush bright red, gulping.

“I only thought she was cute because she looks exactly like you.” You squeak, trying to get yourself out of trouble.

Tara grins, obviously comforted by your statement. “I know. I just wanted to hear you say it.”

She leans in and presses a faint kiss to your lips, tender. She tastes like that Willy Wonka Chocolate Lipbalm you’d convinced her to wear. It doesn’t taste like chocolate.

You laugh against her lips, and she pulls back with a rather big frown.

“You taste yucky!” You say, playfully.

“Excuse me, i wasn’t the one who wanted to wear this.” She banters back, tackling you in a tickle.

You wheeze, tapping her back. You give up way too easily.

“Okay, okay! Fine, it was my fault.” You admit, idea sparking in your head.

“But, I know just how to fix it.” You whisper, and before Tara can ask you, you swipe your hand against her lips gently, taking away all the flavored balm.

You lean down and press another kiss to her, and she just about melts into your arms.

#tara carpenter #drabble #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader

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jazzyoranges · 8 months

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Designated Driver

Tara Carpenter x gn!reader

Summary: pretty much the title

Words: 0.5k

A/n: tiny drabble before smut :O

“Dude, you’ve definitely had too much to drink”

“You have such squishy cheeks, have i ever told you that?” Tara slurs her words as she pinches your left cheek, her breath smelling of booze

“Alright, that’s enough” You decide to ignore how you feel your cheeks get warmer “I’ll go get everyone else. Stay here, don’t go anywhere”

“Waaaaait don’t leave me… I miss you” Tara wraps her arms around your neck, and you also decide to ignore how she’s pressing kisses against your shoulder

You were everyone’s designated driver, being the most responsible out of the group. Sam approved of your presence when she wasn’t able to be with them, and she trusted you with her sister. With Tara around your neck, she quickly migrated to your back, forcing you into giving her a piggyback ride. You two somewhat resembled a koala and his mom, which Mindy made sure to point out

It was your job to take care of your friends like a single mother, and you took your job very seriously

“C’mon, everyone. Keep walk- Mindy stop making out with Anika. You two can have sex when you get home. I don’t want to clean up my leather seats”

“You’re no fun… why do we have to go?”

“It’s past your bedtime.”

“You’re not my mom!”

“I am, actually. Now keep walking before i decide to bodyslam you into my car”

“Stop bein’ mean to Mindy” Tara mumbles into your neck, and her breath sends shivers down your spine

“Everyone. Car. Including you, Tar”

“Can i sit on your lap?”

“If you’re good i’ll spend the night over” Just like that, Tara is off your back and seated in your car along with Anika, Mindy, and Chad. You drive to the twins’ place first, and Anika decides to stay with her girlfriend for the night. When they leave, Tara crawls through the middle space to sit in the front seat next to you

“Don’t you need to get clothes from your place?” Tara asks, and you notice how she’s sobered up the tiniest bit

“I think you’ve stolen like half my wardrobe”

“You have a hot jawline.”

“Go to sleep, Tara”

“I’ll make sure to dream about your jawline”

“Wow, i guess your true motives are showing” You playfully grumble, nearing Tara’s and Sam’s apartment

“Carry me?”

“You have legs”

“But you’re strong”

“So are you, babe” You pat Tara’s thigh “Put those legs to good work”

“You sound like my middle school gym teacher…”

You chuckle at the thought of middle school Tara, but you ultimately let her climb on your back when she looks up at you with her doe eyes. Your girlfriend knows exactly how to make you fold

“Jesus, isn’t it illegal to have a non-working elevator?” You’re huffing and puffing by the time you make it to Tara’s floor, and she lets out a giggle

“It’s okay, babe. You’re hot when you’re tired” She presses a kiss to your cheek as payment when she gets off your back

“And you’re horny when you’re drunk. I’m too sleepy for sex, Tar”

“You might actually be the meanest person i know.”

#jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega #drabble #x gn reader #scream #mindy meeks martin #chad meeks martin #anika kayoko #sam carpenter

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rollingsins · 10 months

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just sweet soft Vada with her obsession with boobs😭😭😳 we just need her😭

Filled, thanks bby!

“Vada,” You murmur as Vada’s hands circle the bottom of your t-shirt, “We’re watching a movie.”

The movie in question is Die Hard. You’ve seen it a thousand times. So has Vada. You’re starting to think that’s why she picked it.

Vada looks up at you, brown eyes wide.

“I know,” She says. She’s tucked into your side, her legs entwined with yours. Her fingers brush the rim of bare skin between your shirt and your jeans, “Maybe we could just… watch it with our shirts off.”

She looks up at you, a familiar not-so-innocence in her eyes.

“Watch a movie with our shirts off?” You ask, voice incredulous.

“Yeah,” Vada says. Her hand slips a bit further up your belly, brushing the warm skin underneath your top. Your stomach flips, “It’s a thing they do in France, I saw it on Tiktok.”

“Bullshit.” You snort, eyebrow raised.

“Well, maybe they should do it in France,” Vada mumbles, “Maybe we should all do it.”

She rubs her legs against yours, hand drifting a little further up your shirt.

“We’re not having sex, your Mom is downstairs.” You tell her, voice final.

The last time you’d let her talk you into fooling around with her parents downstairs, Mrs Cavell had all but burst into the room before you could even get your hands down Vada’s pants. You weren’t keen for a repeat.

Vada pouts.

“Not sex,” She mumbles, “Can you just… Can I just-”

Her eyes drop from your eyes to your chest and suddenly you know exactly what she wants.

You stir under her, ignoring the way it makes your belly coil.

“Again?” You groan, pretending like Vada’s obsession with your boobs is some kind of inconvenience. It would be harder to pretend, if not for the fact it made you want to flip her over and press her against the bed.

Perfect. Now she’s horny and you’re horny and the fact her Mom comes up every ten minutes to ‘check on the two of you’ meant you could do nothing about it.

“Mom came up three minutes ago,” Vada says, sparkle in her eyes as if she’s reading your mind, “Give me seven minutes with those puppies, you won’t regret it.”

That does it.

Her choice of words has quelled your arousal.

You laugh.

“You’re such a fifteen year old boy, sometimes.” You tease her, pressing a kiss to her lips. Vada deflates with a whine.

“Babe-” She protests, but you reach for her wandering hand and press a kiss to the back of it.

“Another time,” You promise, “Let’s watch the movie.”

“Mom has to pick Amelia up from tap practice at five,” Vada says hopefully, ever the optimist, “Maybe we could take our shirts off then.”

You swallow. The arousal is back.

You brush coil your hand around the back of her neck, scratching lightly at the base of her scalp.

“I-” You say, and the thought isn’t unappealing, “Maybe.”

And Vada grins, victorious.

#ask #request #drabble #vada cavell #jenna ortega #the fallout #vada cavell x yn

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somekindofpoet · 1 year

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I’d LOVE a smutty drabble based off that one anon’s tummy kisses with Lorraine cause I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I know you put it in the last fic but I’d love one dedicated to tummy kisses

For once it’s not blazing hot outside. Rain drizzles down your apartment windows, thunder rolling in the background, the usual blue sky a dark foreboding gray. It’s easy to not feel guilty about spending all day inside when the weather gets like this. The Day ranch will keep their animals indoors, hunkered down with enough feed to last them until it passes.

Lorraine insists on watching movies all day. She’s particularly interested in a new film called Alien. You’ve heard it’s great, a horror masterpiece with cutting edge filming techniques and a very talented up and coming actress as the lead.

The film is incredible, you admit that. But something about the way Lorraine looks sitting on your couch, her shirt riding up around her waist, makes it difficult to focus. She’s engrossed, her eyes wide and engaged, fully enjoying the movie. You try to pull her in closer, give her the hint that you no longer want to be watching movies. You have something much more fun in mind.

“Baby quit,” she says, side eying you, “I don’t want to miss this part.”

You huff, sitting back and trying to pay attention again. An idea overcomes you, and you know it’s going to piss her off, but maybe it’ll get you what you want.

“Man, that Ripley is somethin, huh?”

Lorraine’s brow furrows just slightly, her jaw flexing.

“I guess,” is all she replies, but you can see that it’s worked.

Her fingers pick at the hem of her shirt and her eyes are searching harder now, looking for the allure in Sigourney Weaver. It’s not hard to find. You push her further.

“How much you think she had to work out for this film? Or you think she’s just built like that.”

Lorraine waves you off with a glare, “Hush.”

You grin, watch her body language. Her frown hasn’t left her face and she leans back into the cushions, her shirt exposing her stomach just a little further. You grow impatient, and throw the games out the window.

Leaning over, you pull her shirt up a little higher, kiss her just above her hip. She sucks in air, her stomach jumping.

“What’re you doing?”

You smile into her skin, pull the shirt up higher, “Nothing. Watch your movie Raine.”

Her eyes flit between the screen and your lips on her skin. She can’t decide if she wants to stand her ground or not. You inch over, kiss just under her bellybutton.

“I know what you’re-“ she gasps, cutting herself off when your tongue runs over her skin above her pants.

You hum, playing innocent, not looking up at her. Lift her shirt a little higher, holding it against her ribs, press a less than innocent kiss there. Her fingers quickly find their way into your hair, her nails gently scratching at your scalp.

You slide off the couch, kneel between her legs, your lips still on her skin, your hand pushing her shirt up. When you feel her hand leave your hair and her shirt leave your hand, you know you’re victorious. She pulls it over her head and you look up at her, trying not to gloat. Her eyes are dark, low lidded, her lips parted. She’s lost all interest in the movie.

You return to her stomach, nip at her ribs, your lips soothing the slight redness when you let go. When you stray too far to her side, instead of a gasp of desire, she giggles. You stop, look up at her with a curious smile. Kiss her there again, she squeals and pushes your head away.

You go back to her waistline, chuckling into her skin at your discovery.

“What’s so funny?” She drawls, running her fingers into your hair again.

You lift your head, shrugging, “You’re ticklish.”

She rolls her eyes, but the pink in her cheeks and her hand in your hair tells you just how much she enjoys it.

You tuck your fingers into her waist band and pull her sweats down, she lifts her hips to help you get them down her legs and kicks them aside. Her ticklish spots on her stomach may be new territory for you, but between her legs certainly is not. In fact, it may just be your favorite place in the world.

When you kiss her there, you get to listen to your favorite sound in the world, Lorraine gasping and moaning above your head. Taste her on your tongue, second best to nothing you’ve ever had. And when she cums for you, her hips rolling into your mouth, her stomach twitching under your hand, you get to see your favorite view.

#lpm #lorraine day #jenna ortega x reader #lorraine day x reader #lpm drabble

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hopelesslyromanticgay · 10 months

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Playing with her hair - Vada Cavell X Reader

Y/N's POV:

"Why are people in horror movies so dumb!" my girlfriend Vada complains, "Like in the real world no one is stupid enough to do ANY of this. Like, no one would even pick up the phone in the first place!"

"Uh huh," I say to the girl sprawled out across my lap and the rest of the couch, not fully paying attention to what she's saying. I'm more focused on counting her freckles. A while ago, the question of how many freckles she had started to interest me and ever since it's been hard to get the idea out of my mind.

68...

69...

70...

"Y/N/N, are you listening to me?" she asks, breaking my trance, "am I rambling again, I'm sorry."

"Don't be! You're cute when you ramble," I reassure her. She looks over at me, a huge smile creeping over her face, her beautiful brown eyes shimmering in the dim light.

"In that case, I'm gonna keep going," she tells me, "what kind of dumbass decides it's a good idea to let their younger than six year old kid go out of the house alone on a rainy day!"

"Bad ones, I guess," I say absentmindedly. We keep on watching the movie we have on, neither of us really focused on it. without even thinking of it, my hands make their way to her hair.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"Messing with your hair," I admit.

"Oh my god, are we acting like a normal couple?" she gasps.

"Do you not like it?"

"No!" she exclaims, "please don't stop."

"Oh my god, can I style it?"

"As long as it's not too fancy," she insists. One of the first things I ever learned about Vada is how much she hates looking fancy. She doesn't like the tight fitting "feminine" clothing, or the way makeup feels on her face. She hates the way her hair gets tightly pulled into an uncomfortable style, and then gelled into place. What's even worse is if she has to do all three of those TOGETHER. So I'm making it a point to keep it fairly informal, but still neat.

I run my fingers through her dark brunette locks, trying to get the various knots out.

"Ow!" that one hurt!" she squeals.

"Sorry, oh my god are you okay?" I apologize, hoping I haven't hurt her too bad.

"I guess," she says sadly.

"Will this make it better?" I ask, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She looks up at me smiling, "so much better." I brush a few strands of hair out of her face before continue styling it. She climbs into my lap, facing away from me so I can better access her hair.

I start parting her hair, so that there's an even amount of it on each side of her face.

"Oh my god Beverly get out of that house!" Vada screams, practically jumping up at the television, "I swear these people are so dumb."

"Vada, baby, you need to sit slightly still for this to look good," I say softly.

"Fine," she pouts, "why is you doing this kind of relaxing?"

"Maybe I just have that effect on you," I suggest.

"No, normally you make me so excited and happy, like a little kid seeing a bunch of candy and a lot of stuffies!"

"Aww, that's cute," I smile, my face getting warm.

"You're the best girlfriend ever," she compliments me, "I don't know how I wound up with someone as beautiful and funny and all around amazing as you."

"Maybe it's because you're the best girlfriend ever," I suggest.

"No you are!"

"No you!" We continue to argue about who's the better girlfriend, eventually realizing that we'd never get the other to agree with our opinion.

I end up sorting her hair into two neat braids, not too fancy, but presentable.

"And voila!" I say, snapping a photo of the brunette to show her how she looks. She turns around quickly to view the photo.

"I look like Wednesday Addams if she had severe PTSD," she laughs, "but seriously, I love it."

"You do look like that!" I cackle, "what a funny coincidence!"

"Thank you, Y/N/N. I love it," she smiles softly, a blush creeping up on her cheeks.

"Sure thing, it was probably more fun for me than it was for you," I giggle.

"Well you can play with my hair anytime," she offers.

"Haha! You're gonna regret making that offer," I tell her.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #i love jenna ortega #vada cavell #vada cavell x y/n #vada cavell x fem! reader #vada cavell x you #cute #the fallout #jenna ortega x you #reader insert #vada cavell x reader #fanfic #drabble #one shot #jenna ortega one shot #vada cavell one shot #jenna ortega x fem!reader

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czrpenters · 1 year

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heyy. Can u do a Tara carpenter X female reader where Tara comforts her when she gets here wisdom teeth out💀 (I just got mine out)

made it into a lil drabble, anon. hope you like it! ❤️‍🩹

masterlist | request rules.

"I think I'm gonna fucking DIE." You whined, rolling in your bed with your hand in your jaw. You just got your wisdom tooth out and honestly you'd actually rather be dead than to go through this torture. Tara was standing up in you room, fixing some stuff in your closet and laughing at you. The anesthesia was taking a little bit to wear it off, and that meant lots and lots of free entertainment for Tara. "Don't you laugh at me, Tara! I am being tortured, like; I am actually being tortured! You know what, I'll sue her. I'll sue the shit out of that fucking dentist for making me do this."

"She didn't made you take the tooth out, baby."

"Yeah, she did. That bitch gaslighted me into taking a part of my body out. What if I wanted it to stay with me, huh? I miss my tooth already, Tara!" She laughed again and finally laid down with you, hugging you tight and kissing your forehead. "And you know what? My dad is a lawyer. She is going to be so fucked. I'll end her fucking career and she'll have no job for the rest of eternity."

"You know your dad could never be your lawyer, right? Conflict of interests or something." She pointed out, making you think about it for a few seconds before you startes whining again.

"Fucking great. Now I have no lawyer, Tara. How do you expect me to win the case now???" You nuzzled into her neck, almost crying, and that made her hold her laughter so freaking hard. "Don't you fucking laugh. It's your turn next year."

#scream #scream vi #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter smut #drabble

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addictedwritingg · 3 months

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Sam: "Did you and Jenna hook up?"

Y/N: No? *Awkward chuckle* why would you say that?

Jenna: *Grins at Sam*

Sam: "Omg, you guys fucking hooked up?!"

Y/N: *Looks at Jenna, your face red as a cherry*

Sam: "So, that's what all that noise was last night..."

Y/N: *Leaves the room from embarrassment*

#jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #sam carpenter #scream #drabble

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crazyoffher · 7 months

Text

SADDERDAZE.

warnings: smut -> shower sex drabble.

Those emphasized, broken moans that left those swollen, drooly lips were to die for.

Her hands met your tight grip, her elbows kept against the tiled walls to keep herself upright, and her head ached from your harsh tugs. The sensations—ones she yearned for day and night—rocked through her body, her stomach, her aching cunt, and she could only heave out formerly labored breaths, forehead against the cool walls, and allow her back to arch against you.

“Come on, Jen. One more for me, yeah?”

Your silky voice rang in her ears, fanged teeth moving to gently nibble at her earlobe, and Jenna could only nod her head in response. Her mouth was so wet; if she opened those lips for anything else besides moans at the penetrating stings of your strap buried inside her, the built-up amounts of your and her spits combined would come spilling out.

“Anything for you, my sweet girl.” You pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek, one that any would crave if it didn’t originate from the circumstance of the two of you soiled in water from the showerhead, naked bodies clung against one another and gushing in desperate ruts for the pleasurable sensation whom those claimed as orgasms.

The grip on Jenna’s hair lessened. A ball of her damp, brown hair that you loved to comb through with your hands when dried was loosely curled in your hands, more than ready to be tightened at a random time and to be used as leverage for your unsuspecting roughness when it came to dominating the petite woman.

You allowed your head to rest in the crook of her shoulder, protruding a sense of softness to overcome the air, but Jenna knew better than to let herself melt into the feeling of your nose nudging her neck. That softness came and went often, foolish minds often attempting to betray one another with those skeptical tactics, whether it was in the current situation Jenna found herself in or the opposite to when she was the one with velcro secured around her waist, fucking you with a shocking amount of roughness from the cool night until sunrise.

The nose that poked at her neck moved away, and she turned her head to the side from against the tiled walls to meet your do-ed gaze. Your thumb encircled the top of her head lightly, and the submissive girl whose body radiated warmth from underneath fought to separate herself from the vanilla actions that she crazed after, sending a small grin rising on your lips. “You know me too well, don’t you?”

Jenna couldn’t be allowed a word into the playful argument that you desired to arise; the feeling of your cock smoothly rubbing against her walls, slowly yet so pleasurable, choked down the words that tried to rise up in her throat. Her eyes closed in contentment, mentally thanking you for the momentary calm-down that you provided to avoid overstimulation, and she pushed herself into you.

You spoke no words that trailed even the slightest tease, the grip you held on her hair tightening as you rocked your hips slowly, basking in the pleasure that was Jenna’s small mewls, and you could do nothing but drag your teeth against your lips as you sped up. Your free hand hauled its way up her back, fingers gliding against her spine in a feeble yet successful attempt to make her shiver before it rested harmfully on her shoulder, used as balance.

It took a few more set-paced thrusts for Jenna’s moans to grow louder, her voice shaking with every thrust of yours. You tried to shush her, the echoes of the bathroom only multiplying her sweet voice, before ultimately settling for the path of shoving two fingers inside of her mouth. “I told you to be quiet, baby,” and almost purposefully, your hips rutted faster inside of her, “can’t allow anybody else but me to hear that sickly tongue of yours.”

With tears brimming in her eyes and your fast-paced, elongated cock hitting her in all the right places, she felt her knees starting to buckle and that strangely addicting burning sensation in her stomach starting to pool. “Making you feel good, hm?”

“Yes!” She tried to yell, but her words were muffled with your fingertips itching at her throat, and you couldn’t hold yourself back from licking a stripe up from her neck to the corner of her ear, kissing at the end mark. “Only ever wanna make you feel good, baby.”

Your front separated from her back, your fingers slipping from her prized hair and landing on her waist. Acting upon instinct, Jenna bent herself down further in a desperate attempt to get you inside of her deeper; the pits of her cunt selfishly ached for you, and she took pride in it. Deeper, you went.

You could feel the burn creeping up your legs, muscles aching for a break that you’d rather die than grant. How could you stop when America’s ‘it’ girl was shaking beneath you? Whining and begging for more shamelessly with each thrust you granted her dripping cunt, you found yourself in a position that many could consider to be at the top of the hierarchy, and you made sure to fulfill that role.

“F-f-mmmm.” Her tongue vibrated against your fingers, and you slid them out with the promise of much more silent proximity to wash over the two of you. “Fuck! I’m close,” her face smushed into the wall, body growing weaker. “Please don’t stop.”

“Would never do that for my perfect girl.” Your hand snaked under her stomach, your palm laying against her silky skin to keep her upright as your hips never stilled, ultimately sending Jenna over the edge with a loud shriek of your name.

The sight was one to die for. Never in a million years would you ever find yourself in such a state, let alone with a girl that everyone yearned for but chose you to fulfill her every desire, not just romantically. You drowned in that sweet voice of hers, turning whiny and breathless, shaking underneath your touch because you managed to make her feel so good.

“Think what you will." Your bodies connected once more, hands roaming around the tanned skin. Her body had relaxed, its former state of convulsion now gone, and she panted against the wall that her face smushed against, a small smile etching at her face. “But we’re not done here.”

That smile never faded so fast.

☟

don’t think i will put taglists for drabbles. consider this a sorry for taking too long with my promised fics </3

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x reader smut #jenna ortega smut #wednesday addams #tara carpenter #wednesday #scream #lorraine day #x movie #smutfic #smut #mature #lgbtq #fanfiction #jenna ortega x fem!reader #miller’s girl #drabble #lesbian

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tundra1029 · 1 year

Text

A/N: This song gives out sad and fluffy vibes that i can imagine a neglected!Reader x who ever you want as a s/o. Im hyperfixated with Wednesday tv series so i will set this in one of the dorms at Nevermore. Could be g!n/male/fem reader, just a lil sad prompt.

You were in your room and cleaning it alone while music is playing in the background, trying to drown the noise outside.

You look at your bedside table to see your picture with your s/o, you stare for a moment as the memories of the day when it was taken flashes in your eyes and you smile sadly.

You close your eyes and start swaying your body to the melody that is springing your emotion that were kept deep inside your chest while sweeping the floor. a tear start running down your cheek as you try to drown out the sad memories with the good ones, convincing yourself they are just busy, that the reason why they are pushing you away is more important than you. You pause yourself as you thought of that and shakes your head as if to get rid of your thoughts. No, they love you of course you are important to them.... Are you?

You stop in your tracks and bit your lip as you put aside the broom and sit down on your bed as you think of the last few weeks where your s/o kept ignoring you and refuse to hang out with you as they are "busy". You bury your face into your hands as you tremble, music drowning your sobs.

A/N: i ended up doing a drabble while listening to the song instead of a prompt. But basically this is just reader realizing their situation and having a mental breakdown.

Tag: @i984

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #bianca barclay x reader #enid sinclair x reader #larissa weems x reader #yoko tanaka x reader #jenna ortega x reader #emma myers x reader #sam drabbles #tundra rambles #imagine #Spotify

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woewriting · 3 months

Text

wednesday addams is good at everything.

──

The sun was setting in the distant horizon, the orangish color painting the sky, the dim lights automatically turning on as the room became darker, all you could see was the silhouette of the girl sat in her chair, rapidly typing on her writing machine. Watching Wednesday work on her novel always left you mesmerized, she wasn’t allowed to make a single mistake as the antique machine didn’t have an erase button and the writer refused to stain the paper. She was brilliant.

“You’re good at fencing, botany, writing, and I’m sure you’re great at killing people too, but…” You stop, unsure if you should proceed with your, stupidly and terribly planned, plan.

“But?”

“But I doubt that you’re good at kissing.”

Wednesday’s hand stopped typing as she turned her face to the right, her side profile illuminated by the fairy lights that, somehow, you convinced her to hang over her working desk. The perfectly drawn nose, the plump lips, and God, her jawline! So sharp that you’ve always wanted to run your finger over the bone to see if it would cut.

The girl kept her eyes on the wall, her brain working in what her next step to this, obvious, teasing should be. You could almost see the engines twisting inside her skull.

The moment she stood up, her eyes were fixed on your face, jaw tensed up, hands in fists. It was like she was ready to throw a punch at you, it wouldn’t be the first time… but when she took a step closer and you closed your eyes, waiting for the collision, her fingers pulled you by the collar of your shirt until you felt her hot breath against your lips.

“I’m good at everything.” Her voice was serious.

Tilting your chin up, a small smirk tugged the corner of your lips. Eyes slowly opening, meeting hers.

“Why don’t you prove me wrong then, Addams?”

Wednesday loosened the grip on your shirt, the stretched fabric showing your collarbones, a few moles adorning the skin. For a second, in an intrusive thought, the brunette wanted to count each one that covered your body. She had seen a few whenever you wore sleeveless shirts or shorts, they decorated your skin like stars in the night sky, but there was one she had never seen before and, now, got her full attention and became her favorite, a small mole near the vale of your breasts.

She wanted to touch, her hand reaching down to invade the ruined fabric in a curious act, but she stopped midway when she felt the deep breath you took, she could see goosebumps all over your chest with the sudden proximity. You had been next to each other before, but not like this. Not with her eyes peeking through your shirt, her plump lips taking all your attention, so close to yours.

Wednesday was so kissable, and she didn’t even know that.

Not with her hands on your neck as she looked up, big brown eyes staring at your soul. She took a deep breath, swallowing the air to her lungs almost as if it was hurting. And when she closed the gap between you two in a bruising kiss, it felt like a burning knife pierced her throat.

Her nails dug the back of your neck, her teeth biting your lower lip. You knew Wednesday wasn’t gentle, but this was a whole new level. Wrapping your hands on her thin waist, you finally pulled her impossibly closer.

Her tongue licked yours deliciously before sucking hard on it, a struggled sound escaping you, a small string of saliva connecting your lips before she kissed you again, the ragged, unsteady breathing making your lungs burn, begging for air. Pulling back, your chest rose and fell aggressively, your lips lingering over hers, almost touching, uneven breathing colliding with your face.

Before you could kiss her again, her hand pressed down to your chest, pushing you away. Your knees buckled against the bed frame, and you awkwardly fell onto the mattress.

Wednesday was blushed, eyes half open and red, swollen lips. She looked like a mess, and you’re sure you look even worse, you could feel the burning feeling on every centimeter of your body, your hair all over your face.

“Good enough for you?”

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wesstars · 7 months

Text

can't rely on my heart

wednesday addams x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: are people more likely to tell the truth while they’re drunk? wc: 800 tags: all characters involved are 18+. AU, they’re in some big city. wednesday and reader are childhood ‘friends.’ unresolved tension!!! a/n: i miss y’all 😭hope everyone is doing well!! welcome to another wednesday wednesday with the most amazing @evilwednesday. special good morning to @mindyswhore. @melrodrigo told me to hurry up haha. (let’s just ignore how I missed last week okay)

masterlist

1:28 am

come get your bitch.

Wednesday frowned at Yoko’s text. She wondered, briefly, who “your bitch” could ever be—unbidden, your grinning face came to mind, shining bright as a dying star. Wednesday hated it. It was stuff like this, knowing that your friends would ask Wednesday, of all people, to come pick you up, that was intolerable. Always popular yet with a genuine charm, you commanded attention wherever you were, so warm and dazzling that you eclipsed everything around you. You consistently crossed the line with Wednesday, since you really never knew when to stop. Rolling her eyes, she grabbed her car keys.

***

You were giggling. It was insufferable: it had already been enough to go to the bar—a place with sticky floors that Wednesday turned her nose up at—and it was excruciating to have dragged you out, catching you from rolling your ankle on the pavement, so your glittering laugh really was the worst torture Wednesday was willing to endure. Yoko had pushed you unceremoniously into Wednesday, while Enid sent her a sympathetic glance and a promise to text. Wednesday was torn between keeping her distance, so you wouldn’t throw up on her shoes, and holding you upright so you wouldn’t cause a scene, but you made her decision for her.

“You’re so—sloppy,” Wednesday hissed, grabbing your elbow to stop you from careening into a pedestrian. You’d always been a lightweight, since your university days, where you’d always show up, drunk as a dog, knocking at Wednesday and Enid’s place. You would claim that you lost your address. It wasn’t uncommon for you to be over there at all, every little quirk you had being memorized by the apartment: your mug, your spare key, your book on how the biggest planets are made of the very same things that humans are.

“Wednesday,” you said, leaning on her shoulder. She wrinkled her nose. “Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday…

She scoffed. “Just be quiet.”

“I don’t want to,” you whined, being the absolute child that Wednesday thought you were. She let go of your arm, stalking towards her car without you. While she definitely thought of you as someone she could do without babysitting, she still looked back to make sure you were following. You were tracing your crooked path on the sidewalk, scuffing your shoes as you trailed your fingers on every streetlight and sign pole that you passed. Something licked its way through Wednesday’s veins, destructive like fire.

“You…” Wednesday ignored you. Why had she parked so far? The sooner you crashed on her couch, the sooner you’d leave her alone.

“You, with that beautiful smile—” gods, just how many drinks did you have?—“Hold on.”

“I don’t smile.” Wednesday waited, for some reason, as you stumbled forward, catching up to her while the drinks caught up to you.

Ignoring her, you whispered, “I have something to say to you,” showing all your teeth in a dopey smile. When you leaned in, Wednesday saw how the shine of the streetlights caught on your rosy cheeks, glowing.

“You’re even prettier when you’re all the way here, with me, not just in my head.”

Wednesday felt her dead, still heart jolt with an artificial electricity, as if you’d pressed both hands to her chest and yelled clear! It was a startlingly alive experience, being touched by such a startlingly alive person. Every breath was hard to take, as you looked down. The streetlight cast a warm glow, lighting up your outline. You smelled too much like alcohol for such an admission, one where she could feel the cold metal of your arrow, Apollo ablaze, press up against her ribs.

It was weird, how one never really does know the answer to an unspoken question until it was right in front of them, burning.

“You’re not going to remember this,” Wednesday said quietly. “I’m telling you now, so you can understand why.” She looked into your eyes; they were surprisingly clear for someone so inebriated.

Your voice was a whisper, nearly drowned out by a car rushing past. “Why what?”

Wednesday looked up at you. You’d stopped right in front of her car, an accuracy unbecoming of how drunk you seemed to be. She placed a hand on you, your shoulder this time, and yanked you down to her height. You were so close, now, your nose brushing hers, and she felt you take a breath. “Why I don’t mind you being this close.” She hoped you could smell the jasmine perfume she wore. “Why I don’t mind when you cross the line.” Your hair fell into your eyes. “Why I’m driving you home.”

She stepped back, opening the car door and shoving you in. You leaned your temple on the seat, head tilted back to meet her eyes.

“I know, Wednesday.”

a/n cont'd: something something yearning something something

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

masterlist

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melrodrigo · 11 months

Text

Hey Angel - Tardy Drabble

Tara Carpenter x F!Reader

Summary: You throw a welcome party for the whole university, where you meet a certain someone in an angel costume. Things happen.

Warnings: Underage drinking, parties, fluffy stuff

Word Count: 1.5k (yes this was supposed to be a drabble)

A/N: I wrote this while listening to hey angel, one direction rocks man. The start is a little iffy, but it gets better. This is set before the first chapter btw!

“YN! YN! YN!” The crowd roars your name, cheering you on as you eagerly chug the rest of the beer.

Once you finish the 10 bottles they had filled the keg with, you let go of the tube and raise your hands in victory.

You let out an unintelligible sound, and the adrenaline that rushes through you at the sound of people still cheering your name is like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

You’d arrived to the party, your party, fashionably late. But once you stepped foot downstairs your friends were already ushering you to to the kitchen and challenging you to a drinking game.

That was how you ended up here, damn you and your competitive streak.

But the consequences of your actions had caught up quick, because not 10 minutes later you’re starting to feel a little queasy.

“Um…guys, I’m going to go sit down for a while.” You say to no one in particular, and try to make your way through the sea of teenagers to sit down on your couch.

You feel a little bump at your side.

“Woah- sorry about that.” A girl’s voice squeaks from underneath you. You blink, looking down and realizing that she had probably ran into you. Or you into her, probably the latter.

She was an angel, wait no- she was wearing an angel costume. White feathery wings extended from both sides, and a halo placed on her head.

She was so pretty. Like, so so pretty. What other adjectives are there to describe pretty people again?

“Uh, are you okay?” The girl asks again, and you realize you must’ve been staring at her a little too long.

You try and smile, but the queasiness mixed with the oncoming headache you know is about to hit makes you grimace.

“Sorry. Really….drumk.” You manage, and watch as a small smile makes its way to her face.

She touches your arm gently, and it sends a spike of energy through you.

“Do you wanna go sit somewhere? I have an amazing cure for hangovers.”

Hangover…yeah that might just be what you were having. How did you already have one?

You nod, happily.

She grabs your wrist and leads you to your original destination, the couch.

“Your hand is so soft.” You mumble on the way there, not meaning for her to hear. She perks up, and looks back at you for a moment.

“Thanks?”

You nod seriously, “Soft hands are a major thing. It’s the highest of compliments, I love hands man.”

The girl chuckles, shaking her head slightly.

She sits you down onto the couch, tells you she’ll be right back. When she returns, it’s with a different variety of things in her arms. Bananas, a couple of slices of pizza, a full loaf of bread, and a mint.

You’re struck with the realization that you don’t even know this girls name, and that you should probably ask her if you ever want to see her again.

“My name’s YN, and you m’lady?” You slur, trying your best to put on your smoldering face. You extend your hand to hers, waiting for her to reciprocate the handshake.

She laughs in your face, and you frown.

“A handshake?”

“My mom says when we meet someone new we should always offer them a handshake. It’s good manners.” You say, matter of fact-ly.

She giggles, and nods slightly, indicating she’s listening to you. Then shoves the burger and bread into your hands.

“Eat them. Just trust me.”

It might be the alcohol in your system, or the fact that she’s the prettiest girl you’ve ever laid your eyes on, but you heed her orders immediately.

You’re not really sure how to eat the bread, and she seems to realize your struggle. She smiles sheepishly, and runs over to grab a knife and slices you a couple pieces.

When you finish munching on those, she grabs an advil out her back pocket and extends them to you. You take it happily, wanting to get rid of the headache that’s terrorizing you.

She pops the mint in her mouth as she watches you eat, admiring the sight in front of her.

When you start feeling a little better, you turn to her and say, “That’s all you got?”

She raises an eyebrow, amused.

“If that’s what your magic hangover cure is, I can tell you that’s the most basic set of hangover foods ever.” You continue, tone playful.

“Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try better.” She taunts, kicking her feet up to rest them on the table in front of you.

You grin, send her a wink.

“Next time you get drunk, hit me up. I’ll work wonders in under 5 minutes.”

She purses her lips, pretending to think before nodding.

“Okay. You have a deal.”

You guys sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching the party. It’s weird that you feel so relaxed in her presence already, seeing to the fact that it usually takes forever for you to open up to someone.

She looks so good under the party lights, you get the intense urge to kiss her. You decide, fuck it, what’s the harm in trying?

“Hey mystery girl? Can I kiss you?” You shout over the loud music, hoping she can hear you.

You know she does, by the way her eyebrows raise up. She stares at you for longer than you’re comfortable with, and you take that as an answer.

“Okay, that’s- that’s fine. You just look really pretty is all.” You say, somewhat nervous but still flashing a toothy grin at her.

“You know what-“ She starts, moving so that she’s side by side with you. Your eyes widen a bit, obviously taken back that your pickup line actually sort of worked.

When she leans in, your eyes are so wide it’s comical. But once again, your bad luck cuts in, and her phone starts ringing. She jumps a little, seemingly startled by the sound.

You peer at her phone and see the name ‘Sam’ appear.

“Shit.” She mutters, quickly declining and slapping her hand to her forehead.

You frown, could that be her girlfriend?

“Hey I’m really sorry YN, but I gotta go deal with something, i’ll see you around?” She hurries out, already getting up and looking like she’s ready to dart.

You’re stuck in a daze, and way too drunk to remind her that you guys didn’t have any contact. Therefore, it would be extremely hard to ‘see her around’, but you can’t bring yourself to speak.

She leaves your rear of view, and you groan, falling back into the couch.

“Stupid!“ You whisper to yourself, eyebrows furrowed.

It’s not very much fun to watch the party anymore, not without mystery angel at your side. So you decide to call it a night, and walk up the stairs to your room.

You shoo away the couple making out, whining and complaining that they can’t keep it in their pants.

The moment your face hits your pillow, you let out a sigh of relief. It doesn’t take very long for you to fall asleep, mystery girl still fresh in your mind.

You don’t bother to get up when you hear a fight starting downstairs, sure that you’re roommates would be able to take care of it and drift off.

______

Ring. Ring. Ringgg.

You groan loudly, damn alarms having to wake you up from the best sleep you’ve had in ages. You reach over to silence it but catch sight of a calendar notification at the bottom of your phone.

Eng lit test, 8.00 am

You glance up at the time display, only to find out it’s 9.30 and you’re already extremely late to your first exam of the semester.

“Holy shit!” You yell, and shoot up out of your bed. You get dressed in record time, grabbing at anything that’s clean. You swipe a piece of bread that was lying around and sprint out your front door.

You don’t know why it takes you so long to notice that you don’t have a headache, which is strange because you always end up with one after getting shit-faced.

“Guess it’s my lucky day.” You mumble, now in front of the hall room door where you’re having your exam. Wiping your hands on your shirt to try and relieve some of the nervousness, you push open the doors.

In your hurry, you forget that your shoes are untied, and somehow trip over the laces, stumbling into class like a wild animal.

Eyes burn into your head immediately, everyone turning to look at the commotion. You try and smile, signal everyone to look away.

A giggle sounds from somewhere at the back, near where you are.

You lock eyes with the perpetrator, and are struck with someone who looks somehow familiar and not familiar at all.

“Take a seat please YN.” The teacher from across the room booms.

You nod eagerly, and move towards said girl.

When you sit down next to her, still eyeing her, it’s like déjà vu.

Déjà vu for what you can’t seem to remember. You shrug the feeling away, thinking if you ever saw a girl this pretty, you would’ve remembered her right away.

Oh well, you’ll figure it out later. Right now you have a test to ace.

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #tardy #tardy drabble #tara carpenter x you #scream vi #scream #risadumbass #jenna ortega x you

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