Harmony In Whispers

Me on my free time:

Unfortunately for the ones who picked next fic my WiFi was out and I did a drabble and I have a fever soooo sorry! I'll work on the next one tonight :)

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

j's lullaby

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

===+++===

pairing: jenna ortega x reader

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

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

word count: 1.2k

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

===+++===

===+++===

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘M too tired,” she mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I missed you, today,” she whispered.

“I missed you too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

a flight away

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: ^^ request!!!

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: bittersweet

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

masterlist

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

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

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

Obviously, you panicked out of your fucking mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart sank.

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

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

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

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

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

On top of everything, you blamed yourself.

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

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

Now all you can think about are her restless nights.

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

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

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

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

Shit, her head hurts.

Hammering, actually.

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

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

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

Worst of all, she was missing someone. Horribly.

You.

Not just you, but everything of you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Isn't that a slight bit unprofessional?

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

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

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

"Wait, but—!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because the silhouette looked exactly like you.

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

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

Holy shit.

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

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

It was you.

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

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

It was her home. At last.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You cried?"

"Without you? Terribly so."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it's not funny anymore guys

I NEED her

in fact it was never a joke

Oh I’m going crazy for her

i didnt hear about this untill today because of personal reasons but i was apualed by what i saw

and to think, i was so exited to see scream vii

im so fucking dissapointed at the all the people who made the choice to fire melissa

people like noah schnapp get to say ''zionism is sexy'' while people like melissa get blacklisted for speaking against genocide, i hope jenna quits scream because this isnt right

fuck spyglass and hollywood

i wont be watching any new scream movies no matter whos in them

thank you melissa for speaking out

From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free

I am so, so mad about it.

They actually fired her.

Assholes like Noah Schnapp and Timothee Chalamet can get away with whatever just because, but she DARES to speak her mind and to support victims of a genocide and she's kicked out? That's how Hollywood works? They'll fire a talented, passionate actress, who was so invested in her character and brought so much to the franchise just because she's being a decent human being while they'll keep being absolute bastards?

Perfect, then. That says a lot about them. Fuck Paramount. Fuck Hollywood. Fuck absolutely everyone who still support this genocide. Fuck everyone who'll be working in Scream VII, and purposefully ignoring that they're actively supporting murderers by staying quiet.

Scream is now ruined for me. I will proudly boycott Scream VII. For me, the franchise is now dead. Scream VI was the last one.

And finally, shout out to Melissa Barrera for being an absolute queen. They never deserved you in the first place. We all stand with you and I'm so fucking proud of you for doing what is right. Thank you for Sam Carpenter, who wouldn't have been the same without your amazing acting. Slay.

From the river to the see, Palestine will be free.

!!

7. "It's fine..."

For those not in the loop, Lux sleeps on the floor away from the two, one, because of the soldier's life, two, to make quick escape, three, just because she's used to it. She's also basically the guard dog of the place, so she stations herself near any possible blind spots in the lair. And Jinx is like the surveillance cat. Literally think of the guardian dogs and the cats at farms lol.

But Isha finally invited Lux into their space, something Lux didn't want to intrude on until now.

And, you could say there's great comfort to being held again.

coitus

pairings: wednesday x fem!reader

warnings: smut 18+, strap-on used (r receiving), just lesbian sex, dom!wednesday, sub!reader (all characters are 18+)

summary: wednesday invites you to her dorm to engage in ‘coitus’— as she so sexily put it. (requested by anon which can be found at the end)

MASTERLIST

The last five minutes of class felt like they stretched into eternity. You were barely keeping yourself upright, blinking slowly, the professor’s voice fading into white noise. Your body screamed for rest, but then—

Slide.

A small piece of folded paper appeared on your desk, pushed toward you by none other than Wednesday— your girlfriend.

You straightened a little, eyes flickering to hers, but as usual, her expression was unreadable. Still, there was something expectant in the way she held your gaze, waiting.

Carefully, you unfolded the note.

‘My dorm. 7 PM sharp. Do not be late.’

No signature, no explanation—just Wednesday being Wednesday.

By the time class ended, you’d hoped to find her lingering outside, but she was already gone. Typical. With no other option, you went searching for Enid instead, if anyone knew Wednesday’s whereabouts, it would be her.

You found her in the common area, chatting with Yoko about something unimportant before perking up the moment she saw you. “Hey, bestie! What’s up?”

“I’m looking for Wednesday,” you said, crossing your arms. “She left me a note, but I have no idea what for.”

Enid’s ears practically perked up like an excited golden retriever. “Ooooh, mysterious.” Then, as if just remembering, she added, “Oh, by the way, I’m crashing at Yoko’s tonight.”

That made you pause. “Why?”

“Oh, Wednesday said she wanted to have—” Enid scrunched her face, thinking. “What was the word? Coitus?”

You blinked. “…What?”

“Yeah, coitus.” She shrugged. “No clue what it means, but it sounded kinda serious, so I figured it was best to leave.”

Your stomach flipped. Something about that word—coitus—felt… ominous. Like it held some kind of heavy importance you weren’t grasping.

“What the hell does ‘coitus’ mean?” you muttered.

“I dunno.” Enid patted your shoulder. “But whatever it is, have fun!”

After your conversation with Enid, you felt a creeping sense of unease settle over you.

Coitus.

The word bounced around your head like a stray ping-pong ball. It sounded scientific, almost clinical. And with Wednesday involved, there was a very real possibility that it was exactly that.

Which is why you now found yourself sneaking into the chemistry lab, eyes darting around as you grabbed a pair of safety glasses from the supply shelf.

Whatever Wednesday had in store, it was better to be prepared.

Sliding them into your pocket, you left the lab with a sense of grim determination.

—

Your knuckles rapped against the heavy wooden door of Wednesday's dorm room, three sharp, decisive knocks that echoed in the quiet hallway. You shifted your weight from foot to foot, hands fidgeting nervously at your sides as you waited for a response.

After what felt like an eternity, the door swung open with a low creak, revealing Wednesday standing in the dimly lit entryway. She was dressed in her usual dark attire - a black turtleneck, long skirt, and those damned boots you loved so much. Her hair was slicked back into a tight braid, and her pale skin seemed to glow in the low light.

"Punctual," she observed, stepping aside to let you enter. "I appreciate your timeliness."

You stepped into Wednesday's room, your eyes immediately drawn to the bed draped in a white towel, the fabric stark against the dark decor. Beside it sat an unmarked cardboard box, its plain brown surface somehow more unsettling than any gothic trinket.

Turning to face Wednesday, you crossed your arms, a mix of curiosity and trepidation in your voice. "Wednesday, what exactly does 'coitus' mean? Enid mentioned it earlier, and... I want to know what I'm walking into here."

Wednesday closed the door behind you, the latch clicking into place with a sense of finality. She turned to you, her dark eyes glinting in the low light.

"'Coitus'," she repeated, as if tasting the word on her tongue. "It means... communion. Intimacy. The joining of two souls in the most primal, carnal sense.”

“Oh.”

You blinked, dumbfounded by Wednesday's blunt explanation. A flush crept up your neck as the true meaning of her earlier note sank in. You reached up and removed the safety glasses, feeling rather foolish for bringing them.

"Right," you mumble weakly, setting them down on a nearby table. "I thought... I mean, I didn't know if you meant..." You trailed off, suddenly tongue-tied.

Wednesday watched you, an almost amused smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "Did you think I was going to conduct a science experiment?" she asked, one eyebrow arching.

She stepped closer, her skirt swishing softly with each step. "I have done extensive research on the techniques that are used when engaging in coitus. Our first time will be… superlative at best.”

She stopped just short of you, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off her skin, could smell the faint scent of her perfume - something dark and floral, like night-blooming jasmine.

"And I intend to discover every inch of you," she murmured, reaching out to trail a finger along your jawline. "Every curve, every quiver, every breathy gasp.”

Her hand slid down to cup your chin, tilting your face to meet her gaze. In the low light, her eyes seemed to glow with a fevered intensity.

“Clothes off.”

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. With shaking hands, you reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion. You let it drop to the floor, standing before Wednesday in just your bra and bottoms.

Wednesday's gaze raked over your newly exposed skin, lingering on the curves of your breasts, the dip of your waist.

"All of it," she murmured, her voice a dark purr. "I want to see all of you."

You reached behind your back, unhooking your bra with deft fingers. It fell away, revealing your breasts to her hungry gaze.

Next, you shimmied out of your bottoms, letting them pool at your feet. You kicked them off, standing before her in nothing but your underwear. The lace felt too thin, too flimsy against the weight of her inspection.

Wednesday paused in her circling, standing before you. She reached out, tracing the delicate lace of your panties, her finger dipping just slightly beneath the fabric to brush against your skin.

"Lay down," she commanded softly, nodding towards the bed.

You did as you were told, the towel-draped mattress creaking beneath your weight as you settled onto it. The fabric of the towel was rough and cold against your skin.

She kicks off her boots before disrobing with precision, each article of clothing falling away to reveal more of her pale skin. First went the black turtleneck, pulled over her head in one smooth motion to expose the lacy black bra beneath. She reached behind her back, unhooking it with a flick of her fingers.

Her breasts, now freed, were full and perfect. She let the bra drop to the floor, kicking it aside carelessly.

Next, she shimmied out of her skirt, the dark fabric slithering down her slender legs. Beneath, she wore a pair of simple black panties.

Now clad in only her underwear, Wednesday turned her attention to the ominous box. She lifted the lid, revealing a black leather strap-on nestled within.

She lifted it out, the harness glinting in the low light. It was simple, black leather straps and a rigid, silicone phallic shape jutting out from the center. She stepped into it, securing the straps around her hips and thighs with practiced ease.

The strap-on nestled against her pubic bone, the leather of the harness smooth and cool against her skin. She adjusted it, ensuring a snug fit before turning back to you, a dark smirk playing at her lips.

"There," she murmured, drinking in the sight of you splayed out before her. "Now, let's begin our... communion."

Wednesday crawled onto the bed, the towel crinkling beneath her knees. She hovered over you. Her eyes, dark and intense, never left yours as she leaned down to press a kiss to your breastbone.

You gasped softly, your back arching off the bed as her lips brushed against your skin. She smirked against your flesh, trailing kisses up the curve of your breast to circle your nipple with the tip of her tongue. Your nipple hardened under her ministrations.

Without warning, she drew your nipple into her mouth, suckling hard. Pleasure sparked through you, shooting straight to your core. You tangled your fingers in her hair, gripping the strands as you arched into her touch.

Wednesday released your nipple with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting her mouth to your breast. She grinned up at you, a wicked glint in her eyes.

"Beautiful," she murmured, trailing her fingertips down your stomach, mapping out the dip and curve of your muscles. "You're exquisite."

Her hand dipped beneath the waistband of your panties, teasing the sensitive skin there. You squirmed, a breathy whimper escaping your lips.

Then, with a sudden tug, she pulled your panties down your legs. The fabric scraped against your skin as she dragged them lower and lower, until she was tossing them onto the floor.

Now, with nothing separating your most intimate place from her touch, Wednesday settled between your thighs. She brushed her fingertips against your folds, feeling the wetness gathering there.

"Already so wet," she purred, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "I've barely touched you, and you're dripping."

To prove her point, she brought her fingers to her lips, sucking your arousal from her digits. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she hummed in approval.

"Delectable," she murmured, before leaning down to brush the head of the strap-on against your dripping slit.

She teased you with it, rubbing the smooth silicone tip against your clit, circling your entrance. She took her time, drawing out the anticipation until you were writhing beneath her, desperate for more.

"Please," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. “Mmph…”

Wednesday paused, the head of the strap-on hovering just at your entrance. She looked up at you, her eyes glinting with dark amusement at your desperation.

"Please what?" she murmured, a wicked smirk playing at her lips. "Tell me what you want. I want to hear you say it."

She pressed the tip of the strap-on harder against your folds, not quite entering you, but applying a pressure that made you ache for more. Her other hand slid up your body, cupping your breast, kneading the soft flesh.

"Tell me," she urged, rolling your nipple between her fingers, pinching it lightly. "Beg for it, and I might just give you what you want."

"Please, Wednesday," you whimpered, your voice trembling with need. "I... I want you. I want to feel you inside me. I need you to... to fuck me."

The words felt foreign on your tongue, but the desperation in your voice was unmistakable. Your hips bucked up against the strap-on, seeking more.

Wednesday's eyes darkened at your plea, a flash of hunger sparking in their depths. "Good girl," she purred, before thrusting forward, burying the strap-on deep inside you with one smooth stroke.

You cried out, your back arching off the bed as you were suddenly full. The stretch was intense, bordering on painful, but it faded into pleasure as your body adjusted to the size.

"Oh god," you gasped, your nails digging into the sheets beneath you. "Wednesday... it's so big."

"You can take it," Wednesday countered. She started to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, setting a hard, fast pace.

The room filled with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin and your wanton cries. She loomed over you, her pale skin slick with a layer of sweat.

"Fuck," she hissed, her hips snapping forward with brutal force. "So tight. So perfect."

One hand gripped your hip, fingers sinking into the flesh hard enough to leave marks. The other slid up your body to wrap around your throat, applying just a hint of pressure, just enough to make you feel your airway tighten.

Wednesday leaned down. She paused her m movements, the strap-on buried deep inside you, as she captured your lips in a searing kiss.

It started as a bite, her teeth sinking into your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. You gasped into her mouth, the metallic taste exploding on your tongue. But then her mouth softened, her lips moving against yours in a fierce, hungry rhythm.

She kissed you like she was starving for it, like she wanted to devour you whole. Her tongue entered your mouth, tangling with yours. She tasted minty, as though she had brushed her teeth beforehand.

As she kissed you, she started to move again, her hips rolling in a slow, sensual grind. The strap-on slid in and out of you with a maddeningly steady rhythm.

She broke the kiss to trail her lips down the column of your throat, pausing to suck a dark bruise into the skin at the joining of your neck and shoulder. You knew it would be visible in the light of day - a mark of her possession, her claim on you.

"Mine," she growled against your skin, punctuating the word with a sharp thrust of her hips. "All mine. Say it."

She wanted to hear you say it. Wanted you to acknowledge who you belonged to, who owned you in this moment.

"Yours!" you cried out, your voice breaking on a high, keening wail as the pleasure crested over you like a tidal wave. "Oh god, yes.. fuck.. I'm yours, Wednesday! All yours."

Your nails raked down her back, leaving red lines of passion etched into her pale skin. Your legs wrapped around her waist, heels digging into her backside as you pulled her impossibly closer.

Wednesday grunted, a sound of dark satisfaction rumbling in her chest. She captured your lips again, swallowing your cries.

Wednesday's hand slid down your body, her fingers finding your clit. She rubbed the sensitive nub in tight, hard circles, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.

"Come for me," she commanded, her voice a dark growl in your ear. "Let me feel you come around me. Now."

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" you moaned, your body twitching beneath Wednesday as the orgasm crashed over you. Your vision went black as pleasure consumed you.

Wednesday didn't let up, pounding into you through your climax with ruthless intensity. Each thrust pushed you higher, the coil of ecstasy in your core winding tighter and tighter until you thought you might snap.

Her fingers flicked over your clit, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

Your body continued to shake and convulse with the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, legs trembling around Wednesday's waist. She slowed her pace, her hips rolling languidly as she worked you through the waves of pleasure.

Finally, with a low, satisfied grunt, she stilled completely. She hovered over you, chest heaving as she caught her breath.

"Beautiful," she murmured, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. Her touch was surprisingly gentle.

She leaned down to press a soft, almost tender kiss to your forehead. Then, with another grunt of effort, she rolled off you and onto her side, pulling you with her.

You lay tangled in her arms, your head pillowed on her chest, listening to the pounding of her heart as it gradually slowed. Her fingers traced idle patterns on your back, a soothing, almost loving caress.

"Sleep now," she whispered, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. "Rest. You've earned it after that… ravishing first time.”

—

REQUEST: we need wednesday using a strap-on on us bro please and it's both our first time😭 please write it

its always "percy and blackjack" this and "jason and tempest" that SHUT UP

let's talk about how Arion tried to (and did a few times) kill anyone that wasn't Hazel that tried to tame him. Let's talk about how there was a WHOLE PROPHECY foretelling Hazel and Arion being an iconic, powerful duo. LETS TALK ABOUT THEY FOUND EACH OTHER IN BOTH HER LIVES. LETS TALK ABOUT HOW HAZEL AND ARION ARE ABSOLUTELY 100% WITHOUT A DOUBT THE BEST DEMIGOD/EQUESTRIAN DUO

Jenna Ortega for the Beetlejuice Beetlejuice press tour #her stylist always understands the assignment