Not the best writer, but I need an outlet for all my ideas :)
Important:
*Warning, some of my content contains mature themes, viewer discretion is advised.
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About Me:
Call me Ari, she/her, 22, queer, one hell of a mess. Always open to talking to new people and if you have any questions feel free to reach out.
*If I don't respond to your comments/reblogs/tags etc, it's just the anxiety holding me hostage. I love seeing and reading all your comments. Don't be afraid to share your opinions y'all :)
*this pinned post was updated on: Dec 20th, 2025
Masterlist
Jenna Ortega
The Moon and Saturn
Music to My Ears
Music to My Ears [2]
Puppy Love
En Garde!
Inhale
Memorial Day
We Had Matching Wounds. Mine's Still Black and Bruised.
Falling Head First
How'd You Do That?
You Drew Stars Around My Scars
It's Not About Dinner
Family Ties
Insomnia
I Love You. I Support You.
Paper Rings
Carving Commotion
It's Hard When I Hate Myself.
Heartbeat
Forty-Five Days
I Can't Live Without You
Weight to Carry
Other
Look At The Stars. Look How They Shine For You. - Tara Carpenter x Reader
Seventy-Two - Tara Carpenter x Reader
Sleepless Energy - Tara Carpenter x Reader
Daddy Issues - Samantha Carpenter x Reader
Poison - short / drabble - Wednesday Addams x fem!Reader
summary: the turmoil of the ghostface attacks finally creep up on you. you thought you hid the exhaustion well, but your girlfriend sees right through you.
pairing: Tara Carpenter x gn!Reader
words: 1.6k
tw: brief mentions of blood and gore, thats about it - let me know if i need to add anything
a/n: another long last draft out to play - if anything here may be a trigger for you, please don't read
Tara woke to the screech of her alarm. After a few blind swipes, her hand found the snooze button, silencing the demon. She rolled over, ready to sink back into warmth, only to realize something was missing. You.
She shot upright, gaze snapping to the empty space beside her. The sheets were untouched and cool, as if youâd never come to bed. Something twisted in her chest; worry, maybe, or something sharper. She grabbed the first hoodie she could reach, shrugging it on as she padded out into the quiet apartment.
In the living room, you were hunched over the dining table, scribbling notes like a mad scientist at work. A textbook lay open, its pages drowning in highlighter, scribbles, and loose paper. Beside your elbow sat an empty energy drink can, the silver rim catching the morning light.
"Hey," she said softly, trying not to spook you, though it clearly didn't work.
You jolted, twisting in your chair before relaxing at the sight of her. "Youâre up early."
She furrowed her brows, head tilting slightly like you'd said something funny.
"Babe, it's nine am, the same time we get up every day."
You glanced at your watch. Sure enough, 9:04. "Oh." The word came out flat, almost sheepish.
You let your eyes fall back to the mess of notes and numbers in front of you, hoping if you stared hard enough, sheâd just let it go.
But Tara was never the 'let it go' type.
You caught the sound of her bare feet before you felt her, her warm arms sliding around your shoulders, pulling you back into her like she was trying to anchor you in place. Her chin settled lightly on your shoulder, her hair brushing your cheek. You could smell her shampoo, something faint and clean, and for a second, you almost forgot you were supposed to be pretending you were fine.
Her gaze drifted over your work. To you, it was just another page in a never-ending grind. To her, it was⊠something else. Her eyes wandered over the mess in front of you: symbols, Greek letters, and jagged scribbles that looked less like homework and more like an alien language.
"This isnât math," she murmured, lips curving just enough to be felt against your skin. "This is hieroglyphics."
You huffed a quiet laugh, but it came out thin. She didnât let it distract her. You could feel her eyes on you, catching the stillness of your hand, the stiffness in your shoulders, the fact that you hadnât even blinked since she walked in. She was piecing you apart in silence.
"Have you been up all night?"
"Uh... maybe?"
She gave you the look. The disappointed mom glare. The one Sam wore when she was about to call Tara 'careless' in a tone that made it sound like a felony.
"I know, Iâm sorry. I just⊠wasnât tired."
She sighed and sat down in the chair next to you. "Right. And the energy drink is just for the flavor?" She raised a brow. "Do I even want to know how many of these you've had?"
Your silence was enough of an answer.
"I'm sorry," you muttered, burying your face in your hands.
"Hey." Her hands found yours, warm and certain, prying them gently from your face like she had all the time in the world. She hooked a finger under your chin, coaxing your gaze to hers until there was nowhere left to hide. Her eyes were steady, unflinching, the kind of steady that made your chest ache because you didnât feel steady at all.
"Iâm not mad," she said softly, each word deliberate, careful, like she was afraid the wrong tone might send you retreating again. "Iâm just⊠worried about you."
And the way she said it, like you were something fragile and worth protecting, was worse than anger. You could defend yourself against anger. Worry made you want to crumble.
You swallowed hard and nodded, the motion so small it barely counted, though it felt like dragging a stone uphill. If the roles were reversed, youâd say the same thing to her without thinking. No hesitation. No second-guessing. But she was only seeing the surface: the sleepless nights, the empty cans, the shadows under your eyes. She didnât see what hid underneath. If she knew the whole of it â the nightmares that clawed you awake, the way your chest tightened at every sudden noise, the vivid flashbacks of blood and screams â would she still see you the same way?
A violent bang rattled your desk, jolting you awake like someone had ripped you out of a dream mid-fall. You shot upright, heart sprinting ahead of your brain, vision catching up in slow, messy frames.
Laughter rippled from somewhere behind you; low at first, then growing like theyâd all been waiting for this.
Youâd fallen asleep in class. Again.
âSee me after,â the professor said flatly, dropping your textbook on the desk so it rattled against the wood. He didnât even wait for a reply before turning back to the board, already moving on.
Heat crept up your neck, blooming into your cheeks. You sank low in your chair, flipping the book open as if burying your face in equations could make the stares fade.
"Sir? You wanted to see me?" you asked the professor, nervously fidgeting with your fingers as he worked on his laptop.
"Macher, right?" The word snagged in your ears, sharp and wrong, dragging ghosts with it. You always hated that last name, but then again, who wouldn't?
"Yes, sir," you answered, ignoring the weight in your chest.
"First of all," he said, "drop the 'sir.' Iâm forty, not Gandalf the Grey."
A faint smile pulled at your lips despite yourself.
"This is the third time in a row youâve fallen asleep in my class. I know this isn't the most riveting lecture, but is something going on?"
You blinked. He sounded⊠concerned. Genuine. With 300 students to juggle, most professors wouldnât notice if one disappeared entirely, much less care enough to ask if they were okay.
"Everythingâs fine," you lied. "I just havenât been sleeping much."
He gave you a sympathetic smile before pulling out his pen and writing something down on a sticky note.
"My doorâs always open," he said simply. He slid the note across to you. His office hours were scribbled on one side, the campus counseling centerâs info on the other.
"Babe?" Taraâs voice broke through the fog in your head, her hand waving in front of your face. You startled, nearly knocking over your pen. She almost laughed. Almost.
The dark circles under your eyes werenât funny. Neither was the fact that youâd pulled all-nighters every night this week. You looked like you were running on caffeine fumes and stubbornness.
"Shit, Tara," you muttered, rubbing at your eyes.
"You need sleep."
"I'm alright, Iâll go to bed in a bit."
She fought the urge to scold you. You'd been saying that all week, and to say she was frustrated didn't begin to cover it. She couldn't stand idly by and watch you destroy yourself any longer.
âYouâve said that all week. Whenâs the last time you actually slept?â
You hesitated, trying your best to remember. Monday? Tuesday? Did falling asleep in class count?
She took your silence as answer enough, "Exactly. You need sleep. You can't keep functioning like this."
"I'm fine, Tara, I promise."
She sighed. If you wouldn't listen to reason, she'd just have to prove it to you.
"What's today?"
Well, that's a dumb question. "Thursday."
"Babe, it's Saturday."
"Oh."
"You went to classes today. You donât have weekend classes."
Silence filled the room. Something heavy settled in your gut. She was right, you couldnât even remember where youâd gone.
âWhatâs going on?â Her voice had softened, but there was no mistaking the weight behind it. She already had guesses. She just wanted you to say it.
You didnât realize you were crying until she was brushing away the tears.
It's not like you could lie to her forever, right?
"I've been having nightmares." You said it so softly she almost wondered if you'd actually said it, if it wasn't just her mind playing tricks on her.
"What kind?"
"The bad kind? I don't know." In hindsight, it was kind of a dumb question. But she stayed quiet and let you keep going. "It's always about them, and they always end in death."
She didnât need you to say who they were. Ghostface. Ethan. Quinn. The blood. The torment. The screaming. Anikaâs final breath. The close calls. Moments youâd replayed so many times they were starting to blur at the edges.
âHow do you do it?â Your voice cracked. âHow do you get through all this without losing your mind?â
Her lips quirked in a sad smile. âI didnât. Not at first. I tried to bury it, to keep moving. But this time⊠I let my friends in. I let Sam in. I talked about it. And⊠I met this amazing person Iâve kinda fallen in love with, except now theyâre neglecting their health.â
That tugged a weak smile out of you, even through the tears.
"Let's go watch a movie. You don't have to go to sleep just yet. Just stop trying to study yourself into the ground, please.â
"You only say that cause you hate math, you history nerd."
She rolled her eyes, but didnât rise to the bait. Instead, she tugged you gently toward the couch. You curled against her side, letting her warmth and the flicker of the TV screen melt some of the tension from your bones.
Fifteen minutes later, you were out cold, clutching her like a lifeline. Tara glanced down at you, then reached for the blanket. Sheâd sleep on the couch every night if it meant youâd finally rest.
summary: the turmoil of the ghostface attacks finally creep up on you. you thought you hid the exhaustion well, but your girlfriend sees right through you.
pairing: Tara Carpenter x gn!Reader
words: 1.6k
tw: brief mentions of blood and gore, thats about it - let me know if i need to add anything
a/n: if anything here may be a trigger for you, please don't read
Tara woke to the screech of her alarm. After a few blind swipes, her hand found the snooze button, silencing the demon. She rolled over, ready to sink back into warmth, only to realize something was missing. You.
She shot upright, gaze snapping to the empty space beside her. The sheets were untouched and cool, as if youâd never come to bed. Something twisted in her chest; worry, maybe, or something sharper. She grabbed the first hoodie she could reach, shrugging it on as she padded out into the quiet apartment.
In the living room, you were hunched over the dining table, scribbling notes like a mad scientist at work. A textbook lay open, its pages drowning in highlighter, scribbles, and loose paper. Beside your elbow sat an empty energy drink can, the silver rim catching the morning light.
"Hey," she said softly, trying not to spook you, though it clearly didn't work.
You jolted, twisting in your chair before relaxing at the sight of her. "Youâre up early."
She furrowed her brows, head tilting slightly like you'd said something funny.
"Babe, it's nine am, the same time we get up every day."
You glanced at your watch. Sure enough, 9:04. "Oh." The word came out flat, almost sheepish.
You let your eyes fall back to the mess of notes and numbers in front of you, hoping if you stared hard enough, sheâd just let it go.
But Tara was never the 'let it go' type.
You caught the sound of her bare feet before you felt her, her warm arms sliding around your shoulders, pulling you back into her like she was trying to anchor you in place. Her chin settled lightly on your shoulder, her hair brushing your cheek. You could smell her shampoo, something faint and clean, and for a second, you almost forgot you were supposed to be pretending you were fine.
Her gaze drifted over your work. To you, it was just another page in a never-ending grind. To her, it was⊠something else. Her eyes wandered over the mess in front of you: symbols, Greek letters, and jagged scribbles that looked less like homework and more like an alien language.
"This isnât math," she murmured, lips curving just enough to be felt against your skin. "This is hieroglyphics."
You huffed a quiet laugh, but it came out thin. She didnât let it distract her. You could feel her eyes on you, catching the stillness of your hand, the stiffness in your shoulders, the fact that you hadnât even blinked since she walked in. She was piecing you apart in silence.
"Have you been up all night?"
"Uh... maybe?"
She gave you the look. The disappointed mom glare. The one Sam wore when she was about to call Tara 'careless' in a tone that made it sound like a felony.
"I know, Iâm sorry. I just⊠wasnât tired."
She sighed and sat down in the chair next to you. "Right. And the energy drink is just for the flavor?" She raised a brow. "Do I even want to know how many of these you've had?"
Your silence was enough of an answer.
"I'm sorry," you muttered, burying your face in your hands.
"Hey." Her hands found yours, warm and certain, prying them gently from your face like she had all the time in the world. She hooked a finger under your chin, coaxing your gaze to hers until there was nowhere left to hide. Her eyes were steady, unflinching, the kind of steady that made your chest ache because you didnât feel steady at all.
"Iâm not mad," she said softly, each word deliberate, careful, like she was afraid the wrong tone might send you retreating again. "Iâm just⊠worried about you."
And the way she said it, like you were something fragile and worth protecting, was worse than anger. You could defend yourself against anger. Worry made you want to crumble.
You swallowed hard and nodded, the motion so small it barely counted, though it felt like dragging a stone uphill. If the roles were reversed, youâd say the same thing to her without thinking. No hesitation. No second-guessing. But she was only seeing the surface: the sleepless nights, the empty cans, the shadows under your eyes. She didnât see what hid underneath. If she knew the whole of it â the nightmares that clawed you awake, the way your chest tightened at every sudden noise, the vivid flashbacks of blood and screams â would she still see you the same way?
A violent bang rattled your desk, jolting you awake like someone had ripped you out of a dream mid-fall. You shot upright, heart sprinting ahead of your brain, vision catching up in slow, messy frames.
Laughter rippled from somewhere behind you; low at first, then growing like theyâd all been waiting for this.
Youâd fallen asleep in class. Again.
âSee me after,â the professor said flatly, dropping your textbook on the desk so it rattled against the wood. He didnât even wait for a reply before turning back to the board, already moving on.
Heat crept up your neck, blooming into your cheeks. You sank low in your chair, flipping the book open as if burying your face in equations could make the stares fade.
"Sir? You wanted to see me?" you asked the professor, nervously fidgeting with your fingers as he worked on his laptop.
"Macher, right?" The word snagged in your ears, sharp and wrong, dragging ghosts with it. You always hated that last name, but then again, who wouldn't?
"Yes, sir," you answered, ignoring the weight in your chest.
"First of all," he said, "drop the 'sir.' Iâm forty, not Gandalf the Grey."
A faint smile pulled at your lips despite yourself.
"This is the third time in a row youâve fallen asleep in my class. I know this isn't the most riveting lecture, but is something going on?"
You blinked. He sounded⊠concerned. Genuine. With 300 students to juggle, most professors wouldnât notice if one disappeared entirely, much less care enough to ask if they were okay.
"Everythingâs fine," you lied. "I just havenât been sleeping much."
He gave you a sympathetic smile before pulling out his pen and writing something down on a sticky note.
"My doorâs always open," he said simply. He slid the note across to you. His office hours were scribbled on one side, the campus counseling centerâs info on the other.
"Babe?" Taraâs voice broke through the fog in your head, her hand waving in front of your face. You startled, nearly knocking over your pen. She almost laughed. Almost.
The dark circles under your eyes werenât funny. Neither was the fact that youâd pulled all-nighters every night this week. You looked like you were running on caffeine fumes and stubbornness.
"Shit, Tara," you muttered, rubbing at your eyes.
"You need sleep."
"I'm alright, Iâll go to bed in a bit."
She fought the urge to scold you. You'd been saying that all week, and to say she was frustrated didn't begin to cover it. She couldn't stand idly by and watch you destroy yourself any longer.
âYouâve said that all week. Whenâs the last time you actually slept?â
You hesitated, trying your best to remember. Monday? Tuesday? Did falling asleep in class count?
She took your silence as answer enough, "Exactly. You need sleep. You can't keep functioning like this."
"I'm fine, Tara, I promise."
She sighed. If you wouldn't listen to reason, she'd just have to prove it to you.
"What's today?"
Well, that's a dumb question. "Thursday."
"Babe, it's Saturday."
"Oh."
"You went to classes today. You donât have weekend classes."
Silence filled the room. Something heavy settled in your gut. She was right, you couldnât even remember where youâd gone.
âWhatâs going on?â Her voice had softened, but there was no mistaking the weight behind it. She already had guesses. She just wanted you to say it.
You didnât realize you were crying until she was brushing away the tears.
It's not like you could lie to her forever, right?
"I've been having nightmares." You said it so softly she almost wondered if you'd actually said it, if it wasn't just her mind playing tricks on her.
"What kind?"
"The bad kind? I don't know." In hindsight, it was kind of a dumb question. But she stayed quiet and let you keep going. "It's always about them, and they always end in death."
She didnât need you to say who they were. Ghostface. Ethan. Quinn. The blood. The torment. The screaming. Anikaâs final breath. The close calls. Moments youâd replayed so many times they were starting to blur at the edges.
âHow do you do it?â Your voice cracked. âHow do you get through all this without losing your mind?â
Her lips quirked in a sad smile. âI didnât. Not at first. I tried to bury it, to keep moving. But this time⊠I let my friends in. I let Sam in. I talked about it. And⊠I met this amazing person Iâve kinda fallen in love with, except now theyâre neglecting their health.â
That tugged a weak smile out of you, even through the tears.
"Let's go watch a movie. You don't have to go to sleep just yet. Just stop trying to study yourself into the ground, please.â
"You only say that cause you hate math, you history nerd."
She rolled her eyes, but didnât rise to the bait. Instead, she tugged you gently toward the couch. You curled against her side, letting her warmth and the flicker of the TV screen melt some of the tension from your bones.
Fifteen minutes later, you were out cold, clutching her like a lifeline. Tara glanced down at you, then reached for the blanket. Sheâd sleep on the couch every night if it meant youâd finally rest.
Oh my goshhhhh I am such a fan of your work! like it just keeps getting better! I was sorta wondering if you could do jenna x fem!reader where works in the fire department, but after a hard rescue (mentally and physically), she comes home and jenna is super loving and caring since she heard about it?
p.s. sorry its so long
Weight to Carry
summary: you're a firefighter. jenna comforts you after a particularly rough day.
pairing: Jenna Ortega x gn!Reader
words: 770
tw: fire, smoke, grief... (i think that's it, but let me know if i need to add more)
You sighed as you closed the front door, leaning back against it as if it was the only thing keeping you upright. You let the feeling of home seep in; the quiet hum of the air conditioner, the gentle groan of worn floorboards, the scent of fresh-baked goods. It was exactly what you needed.
Every job has its good days and its bad, and yours was no exception. You watched a family lose everything today; their home, their possessions, their car, even a loved one. You could still see their faces, broken from heartache and stained with ash and tears. The image was burned into the back of your eyes like a faded photograph.
It was weighing on you, heavily.
Most shifts as a firefighter are quiet. The occasional fire here or there, sometimes a house call for an injured person, or helping contain the damage after a car crash. But nothing like today.
You only had an hour left in your shift when the call came in. Something about it made you uneasy; you weren't sure if it was the dispatcher's tense tone or clipped short answers, but you knew it was gonna be more than any average fire. By the time the trucks arrived, the house was already engulfed in flames, black smoke billowing into the air like a smoky abyss.
The heat inside had been unbearable, even through the gear and layers of protection. Smoke clung to every surface like a sickness, too thick to see through. The wooden beams groaned as they succumbed to the flames, drywall curled and caught like paper, while toys and electronics popped like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Youâd found the boy deep in the house, barely breathing, barely holding on. You remembered the exact moment his arms went slack, his chest no longer heaving. For just a moment, the whole world seemed to go silent.
You did what you were trained to do, you reminded yourself. You did everything in your power to help that family.
And yet, the weight still lingered.
You smiled instinctively as a new weight settled around you, wrapping around your waist.
"You smell like smoke." She said softly, burying her face into your chest.
You chuckled lightly. She said that after every fire. You always showered before coming home, scrubbing until your skin was pink and raw, yet no matter how hard you tried, the scent always lingered.
"You smell like cookies," you mumbled through your smile. Your gaze dropped down to watch the way she clung to you. Anyone who didn't know better would've thought you came home from war. Although maybe you had, in your own way
"You were there, weren't you? The big fire downtown."
"Yeah."
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
"Are you okay?"
She looked up at you, her brown eyes searching yours as if she could sift through the smoke that clouded your mind and read the truths that lurked beneath.
You took a deep breath; you didn't want to let her down, but you also didn't want to lie. "Better now that I'm with you."
She gave you a small smile. She knew you well enough to know what that meant. You weren't okay. But she wouldn't push, not yet, at least. Instead, she grabbed your hands and led you down the hall.
She guided you into the bathroom, situating you in the center of the room. "Stay." She said it softly, yet firmly.
She turned the tub faucet and plugged the drain, adding in a healthy measure of bubble soap. She dimmed the lights and lit a candle, doing her best to create a cozy atmosphere for you. "Five minutes. Your pajamas will be ready when you're done." She closed the door gently behind her, leaving you in silence.
By the time you emerged, clean and dressed, she was waiting in the living room. The TV was set to your favorite show, two mugs of tea steaming on the coffee table, and a bowl of popcorn set between them.
She was already lying on the couch. She moved the blanket that covered her and motioned for you to lie with her. You settled against her chest, your ear against her heart as she pulled the blanket back over you both.
"You donât have to talk about it," she whispered, her hands gently running through your hair, "but you donât have to carry it alone either."
For the first time since you took off your helmet, you let your shoulders fall. The fire was out. You were home. And in her arms, the weight didnât feel quite as heavy.
tw: swearing, crying - let me know if I missed anything
words: 790+
a/n: just a little extra angst for you guys, enjoy :)
Jenna sank to her knees, the soft grass below cushioning her landing. She pulled the wilted flowers from the plain glass vase and set them off to the side. She gently put the fresh flowers in, making sure to sweep all the dirt and fallen leaves from the stone before putting it back in its place.
Sunflowers were always your favorite. Bright, sunny, and happy - just like you. She just never thought sheâd see the day sheâd have to leave them on your headstone.
It had been three weeks since your funeral. Four weeks exactly since the day you died. Jenna still couldnât believe it. One minute you were there. And the next, gone. She didnât even get to say goodbyeâŠ
There wasnât anything she wouldnât do to see you one last time.
Jenna hadnât noticed the tears that had begun falling from her eyes. What had started as one or two suddenly turned into a flood. Sobs wracked her chest, her throat ached as she struggled to breathe. Her mind spun as she grappled, once again, with the reality of never seeing you again.
Sheâd never get to see your bright smile again or hear that infectious laugh. Sheâd never get to groan at one of your terrible jokes or scoff at your endless list of nicknames for her. Sheâd never be able to call you at midnight and tell you about her shitty day, or stay up till dawn binge-watching crappy rom-coms and eating ice cream with you.
The thing sheâd regret the most though, was never telling you how she truly felt. She shouldâve told you when she had the chance. Now sheâd never be able to.
A small chirp interrupted Jennaâs meltdown. She hadnât heard anyone come up next to her and, though it had seemed soft, the sudden noise left her startled.
She dried her eyes on the ends of her sleeves, doing her best to wipe away any evidence of her crying. She looked around, trying to see where the sound had come from. Only she couldnât see anyone. The cemetery was empty as far as the eye could see.
There was another chirp. Much closer this time. There was a distinct sound of rustling leaves, followed by another chirp.
Jenna looked up, scanning the branches of the tree that shadowed your headstone. Thatâs when she spotted it, a little red bird up in the tree branches. It tilted its head at her before moving once again, this time swooping down and landing on top of your headstone. It chirped once again and hopped closer to her, almost as if trying to express its sympathy.
Jenna recognized the bird; a red cardinal. You had pointed one out to her on a walk in the park once.
It means something, you know, you had told her. They represent our loved ones, visiting us after theyâre gone. Jenna didnât believe it, she even laughed at the idea. How could a little bird mean some dead person was visiting you? It seemed ridiculous.
Jenna held out her hand, she simply only wanted to pet the bird. But, before she could do so, it hopped again, perching on top of her outstretched finger. The sudden action took her by surprise.
The bird didnât seem to be afraid of her, if anything, it seemed curious. It tilted its head for a second before chirping again.
Despite every fiber of her soul telling her to be logical, Jenna couldnât help but think that maybe you were right. Or at least, she really wanted you to be. She needed you, desperately. While the thought of never getting to see you again broke her heart, the idea that maybe you were still looking after her, even in death, made her feel a little bit lighter.
âIâm sorry.â She whispered, worried that if she were any louder, sheâd scare the bird away, âIâm so, so, sorry.â She had said those words so many times since youâd passed, over and over again; in her head, out loud, to your different family members - who arguably had more to mourn than her. She had said it so many times she wasnât even sure what she was sorry for anymore. She just knew she was so fucking sorry⊠for everything.
The bird chirped, tilting its head at her. It nuzzled at her finger softly, almost as if it was trying to show it understood her, that it understood her pain. Part of Jenna was screaming, telling her that it was just a bird, to think of it as anything else was crazy. But she didnât care, she needed it to be you.
summary: you and Jenna get into a fight, you get into a car crash before you can make amends [request]
pairing: Jenna Ortega x fem!reader
tw: swearing, arguments, drinking, a car crash (i'm probably missing something so let me know if i need to add anything)
words: 2.33k
a/n: one of my longest posts yet, sorry it took me so long to get to this request and even longer to post it. anyway, enjoy the angst :)
You stood there, frozen in place, watching the pair through the windows of the coffee shop. As much as you wanted to, you couldnât tear your eyes away from them.
His hand was up her thigh, shoulders brushing with every passing word, her smile brighter than all the stars in the midnight sky. But thatâs not what held your attention. No. The thing that held your attention the most, was the kiss.Â
You had no right to be jealous, itâs not like you were dating her. But that didnât make it hurt any less.
You liked Jenna, you really did⊠maybe even loved her⊠And you thought, or at least hoped, maybe she liked you back. But the scene in front of you told a very different story.
You backed away, back in the direction you came from. You had plans for today, but those could wait. Right now, you needed to get away⊠anywhere far away from that.
Jenna saw you. She saw you turn and walk off in the other direction. There was something about the way you stormed off that caught her attention, it put a knot in her stomach.
Something was wrong, very wrong.
You wiped your eyes, hoping no one would notice if they saw you. You hated crying; it made you feel weak.
You patted down your pockets, looking for your car keys. Fortunately, it didnât take long to find them, and it took even less to unlock the car door.
âWhatâs wrong?â
Of course⊠You closed your eyes, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole right then and there.
 You didnât want to talk to her, not after what you just saw.
âNot now, Jenna. Please.âÂ
You didnât turn around, keeping yourself facing towards the car. You didnât want to see her, and you sure as hell didnât want her to see you like this.Â
Jenna was taken aback. You told her everything. When something was wrong, youâd always go to her first. And now you were pushing her away? She couldnât understand it.
The sound of footsteps echoed in the empty parking lot. Gravel crunched under Jennaâs feet as she got closer. You didnât move though, you refused to let her see you like this.Â
âSeriously, Jenna, Iâm not in the mood.â You tried again to get her to go away. But her footsteps didnât falter or change course⊠Nope, Jenna was going to give you a piece of her mind, whether you liked it or not.
You wiped your eyes again and took a deep breath, trying to pull yourself together. You didnât want her to notice what a mess you were⊠Not like it would matter though, Jenna noticed everything.
Her footsteps stopped next to you. You could feel her eyes boring into you, her concern practically radiating off her. You didnât budge though. You couldnât. It almost seemed like the closer she got the faster your tears fell.
âHey, talk to me. Whateverâs wrong, maybe I can helpâŠâ
Fuck⊠You hated the world. You hated yourself, you hated that boy, you hated everything. Everything but her⊠How do you even tell your best friend, the girl youâre in love with, that the reason your entire world is falling apart is because of her? She was your everything, and she destroyed you.
But worst of all, she didnât even know it.
You still had your eyes closed, praying that by some miracle she would go away.
She reached out to hold your hand, anything to try and comfort you. But you pulled away.
Jenna tried to ignore the pain in her chest as you pulled away, the feeling of your fingertips slipping past hers was almost foreign. She knew you were hurting, but it didnât make the ache in her own heart go away.
âDid I do something wrong?â
You wanted to laugh, you wanted to tell her it was all just a big misunderstanding, that you were fine. But you couldnât. Instead, more tears fell.
Jenna would never be yours. Never anything more than a friend⊠The longer the two of you stood there the more the realization crushed you.
âNo, Jenna. You didnât do anything wrong.â The words came out soft, muffled by the air caught in your throat and the weight of the world slowly suffocating you.
âThen whatâs wrong? Why wonât you talk to me?â She was getting frustrated now, evident by the tension in her voice and her rising volume.
âBecause I canât!â You snapped, âBecause for fucking once, youâre the only person I canât tell!â
âWhy not?!â
âBecause itâs not your fucking problem!â
The second the words left your mouth you wanted to take them back. You didnât mean it.
You never thought you could see someoneâs heart break. You always thought that was the stuff of movies and shows. And yet, thatâs exactly what you saw looking at Jenna. You saw her heart shatter. You could see the tears welling in her eyes, her hands looked like they were shaking, and her face twisted in anger and hurt. She seemedâŠ
broken.
âSorry I even bothered then.â
You didnât even have time to interject before she turned on her heel and stormed off. And even if you did, you werenât sure you wouldâve said anything anyway. What do you say to fix a broken heart? What do you say when your own heart is crumbling to pieces?
You finally got into your car, practically throwing yourself into the driverâs seat.
You took a second to breathe and digest whatever the hell just happened.
You ruined it. You just ruined the only relationship that ever mattered to youâŠ
fuck.
You slammed your hand against the steering wheel. You did it again and again and again, beating the crap out of the poor thing. You kept going till your hand was purple and blue and all the anger had finally faded away. All that remained was your shattered soul and bruised hand.
Youâd give anything to take back what just happenedâŠ
You stumbled out of the bar door, your eyes struggling to adjust to the pitch-black sky after sitting under the tavern lights for so long.
After your fight with Jenna you decided to turn to the best distraction you could think of; crawling into the bottom of a bottle. All things considered; youâve been worse off. You werenât seeing double yet and you hadnât fallen on your face. Both of which were good things considering how much you had to drink.
You fumbled for your keys, dropping them as you pulled them from your pocket. You bent over to pick them up, your stomach churning as you did so. You heaved, silently begging your body not to barf. It churned again. You nearly lost it, but the feeling seemed to pass as quickly as it appeared.
You looked down at the keys in your hand, quickly shoving them back into your pocket. If the way you nearly puked two seconds ago told you anything it was that you were too drunk to drive home.
You pulled out your phone, trying to think of someone whoâd be willing to drive you home this late at night. You clicked the first contact you could think of.
You listened to the dial tone. Once, twice, three rings. Then to voicemail. You didnât bother leaving a message, instead hanging up. It was crazy to think sheâd pick up anyway.
You clicked a different contact, your brother. Once again, it rang only to go to voicemail. You tried your sister, but once again, no answer.
You looked over at your car, contemplating just how drunk you were. Your house wasn't that far away, maybe you could drive?
No. It wasn't worth the risk. You only lived a few blocks away, you could walk. You werenât gonna be one of those idiots on the news who got a hundred years in prison for killing someone because they drove home drunk.
You headed towards the street, making sure to keep on the sidewalk. You didnât want to stumble into the road like some drunk idiot, even if there werenât any cars around. You decided to put on some soft music while you walked, the quiet beginning to make you uncomfortable.
Somewhere behind you could hear the rumble of a car. It was getting close and fast⊠definitely too fast to be safe. You turned behind you to try and get a look at the car, only to be met with bright headlights right in your eyes. It almost seemed like they were swerving but it was too hard to tell.
âHello?â Jenna answered the phone with a sigh.
Sheâd been halfway through pouring herself yet another glass of white wine when her phone started to ring. She was just going to ignore it, but it kept ringing. Eventually, she decided to pick it up and tell whoever it was to call back tomorrow.
She couldnât stop thinking about the fight from earlier. In fact, it was all she could think about all day. And the more she thought about it the more her chest ached. And the more her chest ached, the more wine she found herself pouring.
âJenna! Are you okay? Please tell me youâre okay?â It was her mom; she seemed worried, frantic even. She wasnât sure why she was so worked up, but it couldnât have been good.
âYeah, mom, Iâm fine. Whatâs wrong?â
There was a pause. A moment of silence. The tension that seeped into the air sent chills down Jennaâs spine.
âMom?â
âYou donât know?â
âKnow what?â Now she was even more confused. Did something happen? âYouâre scaring me, Mom. Whatâs wrong?â
âOh, Iâm sorry, hun. I was worried, I thought you mightâve been with her when it happened and- â
âWith who? What happened?â
âOh,â she could hear her momâs voice cracking from the other side of the phone, it only made her more worried, âSweetheart⊠There was an accident, a bad one.â Her mom didnât need to say your name, Jenna already knew exactly who she was talking about.
Her mom kept rambling, but she was hardly listening. Jenna made out some words; drunk driver, life support, critical condition⊠but all she could think about was you.
âWhat hospital?â Jenna interrupted. She loved her mom, but the conversation at hand was far from her mind. She needed to see you, she needed to know you were going to be okay. You had to be okay⊠she wasnât sure what she would even do if you werenât.
âThe hospital just off of thirteenth street-â
âWhat floor?â
âThe ICU-â
âIâll be there in fifteen minutes.â She didnât care how many stoplights she had to run or what laws she had to break. Sheâd be there in fifteen minutes, damn the consequences.
Before her mom could get another word in, Jenna hung up the phone.
True to her word it only took her fifteen minutes to get to the hospital, a feat which shouldâve been nearly impossible given how far away she lived.Â
Jenna ran up to the nurseâs station, frantic and out of breath, âWhereâs-â
Before she could finish her question alarms started blaring. Rapid beeping shot out from the computers, lights began flashing outside one of the rooms, everyone jumped out of their seats. All Jenna could comprehend from the chaos was âCode Blueâ and âRoom 143â.
She watched the nurses rush down the hall towards the flashing lights, she noted doctors and other nurses rushing towards the same room as well. One of the nurses closed the blinds while another closed the door to keep the family from watching from the hall.
It took a few seconds before she realized she recognized the family. She noted your brother, looking pale and emotionless. Your mother, tears streaming down her eyes and holding onto your sister, who was crying herself, for dear life.
The alarms, your family, the term âCode Blueâ⊠the realization of what was happening hit Jenna like a freight train.
âNoâŠâ Jenna didnât want to believe it, she couldnât. âNo⊠No, no, no, no -â
Her legs were carrying her before she even realized what she was doing, her body acting off instinct.
She nearly tripped as a pair of arms latched onto her, holding her back from storming into the room. She tried pushing the arms off, her sights still set on the door in front of her, but it was pointless. Whoever had her wasnât letting go.
Tears clouded her vision, but she could hear the doctors inside your room clearly; demanding voices talking about drugs and techniques, the sound of the defibrillator going, different nurses and doctors all talking over one another.
She needed you to be okay. You had to be okay.
Then, just as quickly as it all started, everything went quiet.
Jennaâs pleading had stopped, lost to her hoarse voice and sobbing cries. The doctors had all gone quiet, there was no more talk of treatments or drugs. The familiar tones of the defibrillator had stopped, no more sounds from charging or discharging. All that remained were the normal sounds of a busy hospital.
The loudest sound of all though, was the one sound that was missing. Your hospital monitor had gone silent, most likely turned off by one of the doctors or nurses. No alarms, no ticks or beeps, just cold steady silence.
âTime of death, twenty-three fifty-seven.â
Jenna heard one of the doctors say it, almost as clear as day. She never thought one little sentence could hurt her so bad, and yet, having her heart ripped from her chest wouldâve been less painful.
Could you write a drabble with Wednesday and fem reader
They are bickering about something and Enid jokes saying they look like a married couple or something and Wednesday tell reader "if you were my wife I would put poison on her coffee" and reader tells back "and if you were my wife I would drink it!!"
Poison
summary: you and Wednesday get into a debate on body disposal.
pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!Reader
words: 262
tw: death? maybe?
a/n: this one has been sitting in my inox forever, so sorry to whoever requested this lol. I struggle to write for Wednesday so sorry I couldn't make this one longer.
"Obviously the best way to dispose of a body is to hide one in a pre-dug grave. You put the body under the coffin, the dirt is already disturbed, no one would even know."
Wednesday didn't even blink, then again, she never showed much emotion. "Maybe if you're in a hurry. It would be much more efficient to feed the body to pigs. They can chew through bones easily and there would be no traces of evidence left behind."
âHow would that even be more efficient? That must take daysss.â
âOne pig alone can approximately go through two pounds of uncooked flesh a minute. If you had sixteen pigs, you could dispose of a two-hundred-pound body in eight minutes.â
"Okay, but where would you even find that many pigs."
"A farm." She stared at you blankly, even more so than usual, as if you were dumb for not thinking of something so obvious.
"Yeah, but-"
You were cut off by Enid, who grew bored of your little debate almost an hour ago, "You two argue like an old married couple."
You could see Enid's little smirk, she knew your little secret, the tiny little crush you had on the Addams girl. The look she gave made you want to smack her upside the head.
"If she were my wife, I would put poison in her coffee." There was a distaste in her voice that nearly hurt, you did your best to ignore it though. That's just the way Wednesday was, cruel and uninterested.
summary: you come back on Valentine's Day after being away on a work trip.
pairing: Jenna Ortega x gn!Reader
words: 1.89k
tw: very fluffy (is there such a thing as too fluffy?), kissing, light making out, let me know if i forgot anything
a/n: happy valentine's day everybody! tried making this as fluffy as i could, not sure how i feel about this one, let me know what you guys think lol
Jenna checked her phone again; 5:15 pm, no new texts. You should be here any minute now. She looked around the crowded lobby, but there was no sign of you yet.
You'd just finished filming for a big project, somewhere in New Zealand. It was a long process, over five months to film. You'd only seen each other for a few days during the holidays and before you had to leave again.
She was excited, to say the least, and nervous. She hadn't seen you in over a month. It made her wonder how you managed to go all that time without seeing her when she had to travel.
Home just wasn't the same without you.
You searched the lobby for any sign of Jenna. It'd been forty-five days since you last saw her, which roughly translated to 1,080 hours or 64,800 minutes. And each minute you were away from her felt entirely more agonizing than the last. (and yes, you did all the math on the plane, it was a very boring flight).
Finally, your eyes settled on a short brunette standing off to the side, away from the crowds. Tan and layered in freckles, her sunglasses were on and one of your jackets was draped lightly over her shoulders. She had a cheeky grin, and you knew she'd been watching you look around cluelessly for at least a few minutes.
You tightened your grip on your luggage, breaking out into a jog to go greet your amazing girlfriend. The second you were close enough you dropped your bags and nearly tackled her into a hug.
"I missed you so much." You whispered, still hugging her as if it were the last thing you might do.
"I missed you more." You could hear the playful smile she wore, her happiness more contagious than the plague. But more than that, you could hear the relief in her voice.
You squeezed her even tighter. You needed this. You needed her. Forty-five days was too long.
"Baby, you have to let go," Her arms gently tugged at your hands, she didn't really want you to let go, but you two couldn't exactly stand around in the airport all day.
"Nooo, just a little longer," you whined, sounding a bit like a child about to throw a tantrum.
"Come on, you can hug me all you want when we get home, ok?"
"Fineeeeee," You sighed. You didn't exactly mind letting her go, knowing there'd be plenty of time for cuddles later, but it was always more fun to be dramatic.
The minute you let go of her, she stuck her hand out, a bouquet of roses held out in front of you, "Happy Valentine's Day, baby."
"You got me roses?" You weren't exactly the type for flowers, but the idea of Jenna going out of her way just to get you something had a way of making your heart melt.
"Yeah? I know you don't really do the whole flowers thing, but I saw them, and I thought of you so-"
She didn't even have to finish her sentence. Before she even had a chance to stop and ask what you were doing, you had hooked your finger into one of the belt loops of her jeans, tugged her in close, and kissed her with all the pent-up passion you had.
God those lips. That smile. Her scent alone was enough to drive you mad. Your whole world could be falling apart, and you couldn't care less as long as you had her in your life.
The kiss didn't last long, much to your disappointment. It did, however, leave Jenna a blushing mess, which was more than enough to leave you satisfied.
You reached into your coat pocket and pulled out a necklace, holding it out for Jenna to see, âHappy Valentineâs Day, love.â
It was a simple necklace, an ivory pendant held by a plain black cord. The pendant looked similar to a vertical infinity sign, except instead of one twist, there were two.
Jenna looked it over in her hands, admiring the craftsmanship and the tiny details.
âThe symbol is called a pikorua, it represents two people coming together for eternity. Two people bonded by friendship and loyalty.â
You bounced on your heels nervously. You werenât a hundred percent sure sheâd like it, but the meaning behind it was too good to pass up. You wanted Jenna to have a reminder of your love, especially when you two were apart for work.
âI know itâs not much, but-â
âNo, no, no. I love it, baby.â She looked up at you and gave you that smile, the one that made you weak in the knees and your heart all melty. âItâs beautiful.â
She gave you a small peck on the cheek. And despite the heavy kiss from just minutes ago, the small action still made you blush, your heart swelling with feelings you couldn't comprehend, "Come on, love. Let's go home."
Her smile. Her laugh. Her eyes. God this girl was your kryptonite.
You walked through the front door and immediately your jaw dropped.
"Jenna... is this?â
âYeahâŠâ
ââŠfor me?â
âYeahâŠâ
âYou did all this?"
âYeahâŠâ Silence. Tension filled the air. You could practically feel the nerves radiating off the girl next to you.
"I wanted to surprise you..." she fiddled with her hands, wringing her fingers nervously as you admired the scene in front of you. "Is it too much? It is, isn't it? I'll clean it up-"
"No!" You said it too fast, too forcefully, "No," You tried again, much more calmly this time, "I love it, baby, it's awesome. I just- I didn't expect this at all."
The house was completely decorated, like something straight out of a Hallmark movie. Candlesticks decorated tables and hallways, lighting up the whole house with a soft yellow glow. Red and pink balloons lined the doorway and silver garland hung from the ceiling. The dining table was adorned with a white tablecloth and a vase filled with more roses. A âwelcome homeâ banner hung over the dining table, swaying slowly as you stared at the painted black letters in awe.
This Girl.
She did all this⊠for you? Just to surprise you?
âBaby?â You felt her hand on your arm. You hadnât even realized how long you'd been staring in silence.
You turned around to see her looking at you, her expression a mix of emotions. There was hope and fear, she was so worried you'd hate the decorations, she wanted you to like them. But at the same time, you could see the love in her eyes, whether you loved it or hated it, she only wanted you to be happy.
Your body seemed to move on instinct.
You leaned forward and kissed her without even thinking about it. Your hands gripped her waist and pulled her in closer, anything to be near her. Her hands seemed to naturally find their way up your face, cupping it as she kissed you back.
Forty-five days was too damn long.
The kisses turned into something more. Before you knew it, Jenna had you pushed up against a wall, her hands roaming under your shirt, leaving goosebumps wherever they traveled. Her lips were at your jaw, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. It took everything in you not to melt under her touch.
âBaby?â You breathed out, not sure how much more you had in you before your knees would give out.
âBedroom?â She already knew what you were going to ask, her lips pressed into the base of your neck sent chills down your spine.
âPlease.â
You woke up to the sunlight peeking through the window, filtering in between the blades of the blinds. You groaned, tossing and rolling back over in bed. Stupid sun⊠all you wanted was to sleep inâŠ
You rolled over only to notice the void in the bed. Something was missing⊠or more like someone. Where was Jenna?
âBaby?â You called out, your voice hoarse and rough from sleep.
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes taking in the state of the room. Candles all burnt out, clothes strewn in every direction, rose petals covering every surface like confetti, half the bed sheets covered the floor while the other half haphazardly covered you.
You could hear noises coming from somewhere outside the room. What is she doing?
You picked up one of Jennaâs t-shirts from the floor and threw it on before stumbling out to the living room. You followed the noises to the kitchen.
Jenna was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a sports bra, her hair tied up in a messy bun. She was working away in front of the stove, the smell of food cooking and something sizzling catching your attention.
You strolled up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your head on her shoulder. You didnât have to look to know she was smiling, you could tell, it was in her body language. The way her muscles seemed to relax with you around, the little laugh she let out under her breath, the way she tried not to move too much so she wouldnât jostle you around-
âBaby?â Her voice pulled you from thoughts.
âHmmm?â You barely mumbled, your head still hazy with exhaustion. Between last night's activities and the jet lag from the flight, you were going to need at least a week to catch up on sleep.
There was that cute little laugh again, so quiet you would miss it if you werenât paying attention. âWhat are you doing up, love? I figured youâd be asleep for at least another hour.â
âI missed you,â you wrapped your arms around her a little tighter.
âI missed you too, baby.â She leaned over, kissing you on the cheek before going back to whatever she was doing.
Your eyes were half closed as you stood there, clinging to her like a koala with your face nestled into the side of her neck. Despite the fact you were standing, you were comfortable enough that you could almost fall back asleep, if it werenât for her little movements, you probably wouldâve already.
âWhatâre you doing?â Â your voice came out all muffled from talking into her shoulder, but she seemed to understand what you meant.
âMaking your favorite. I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed.â She could see you nodding off on her shoulder, it made her smile. She always found you extra cute when you were sleepy. âWhy donât you go back to bed, babe? Iâll be there in a bit.â
âNo.â You meant to sound firm in your decision, but between your morning voice and how tired you were, you sounded like you were about half asleep already. Which wasnât too far from the truth.
âBabe, go to bed, Iâll be there soon,â She chuckled, smiling at your resolve to stick with her even if you were basically already sleeping on her shoulder.
âIâm fineeeee. Iâm going to stay right here and help you cook.â
And you did. You stood right there and âsupervisedâ as Jenna cooked one of your favorite meals, pancakes and bacon. Normally she wouldâve pushed you out of the kitchen for being in her way, but after not being together for so long, she didnât mind the intimacy.
summary: when family gets rough, Jenna knows just the way to calm you down. [request]
pairing: Jenna Ortega x gn!Reader
tw: mentions of abuse (not detailed), some tears, but otherwise that's about it (if I need to add something let me know)
words: 1.26k
a/n: it's been too long since i've last posted lol. anyways, hopefully this is what you were hoping for anon (i would've tagged you but wasn't sure if you wanted that lol - you know who you are). anyways, enjoy guys :)
You tapped on the window, trying not to wake the whole house while doing so. You bounced up and down on your heels while you waited, the cool air of the night sending chills up your spine.
No response. You tried again, knocking softly on the glass.
The window finally slid open. Jenna stood on the other side, her hair pulled up into a messy bun and wearing the oversized hoodie she stole from you.
"Can I stay, please?" You didn't have to say anything else, Jenna understood.
For most of your life, your house had been a toxic environment. When it all became too much or something bad happened, you'd escape. More often than not, you'd be at Jenna's house. Thankfully, her family welcomed you with open arms.
Jenna helped you climb through the window, smuggling you into her bedroom like some kind of behind-the-scenes drug deal.
The second you were through the window, you collapsed into Jenna's arms. You held her tight, nestling as close as you could to her and not letting go.
Jenna was a bit surprised; you normally weren't fond of physical contact. She didn't mind it though, she was more than happy to comfort you however she could, even if it was nearly three in the morning.
"It's ok," Jenna whispered, figuring whatever happened had to be pretty bad for you to act like this. "You're safe, I promise."
Six little words. That's all it took for you to break down. You started bawling.
Nowhere else in the world had you ever felt safer than in Jenna's arms. You were safe. No one could hurt you here. And yet, that wasn't entirely true either. Memories of your parents, the things they said and did always managed to stick with you. You would never be able to escape the storm that raged on inside your mind. Wave after wave, each memory worse than the last. Thoughts and images flash in your mind like lightning in a storm.
The more you thought about them, the worse it got. The realization that you'd never be able to escape hit like a ton of bricks...
Your breathing became shallow and ragged, hiccupping through the tears. Jenna could feel the way your heart thumped in your chest. You were going to have a panic attack if she didn't do something.
âShhh, itâs okay, love. Youâre okay.â Jenna wasnât sure what else to say. Jenna had comforted you many times before, but this felt different, sheâd never seen you so distraught.
Jenna slowly brought you down to the floor with her, setting you in her lap as she leaned against the side of her bed. She rubbed circles across your back as you held her tightly, your face nestled into her shoulder, your breathing becoming more erratic with each second that passed.
With one free hand, she tugged open the drawer of her nightstand. She blindly felt around before finally grabbing what she was looking for. A stethoscope. The one her mom had given her for her birthday last year.
She gently took the two earpieces and settled them over her ears. Then she took the chest piece and held it up to your chest. It wasnât long before the sound of your erratic heartbeat flooded her ears. It made her wince. It was loud, louder than it should be. She couldn't even imagine what your parents did to hurt you so deeply, just seeing you so upset broke her heart...
You could feel the cool metal on your chest as Jenna's hand slipped underneath your shirt, her touch leaving a trail of goosebumps as she went.
You could never understand why Jenna and her stethoscope brought you so much comfort. You'd think someone having their hand up your shirt in the middle of a breakdown would feel like a violation, and yet, it didn't. Her hand on your back rubbing circles, and occasionally slipping up to the nape of your neck to play with the ends of your hair, was comforting. The cool metal drum of the stethoscope against your chest gave you something to focus on. And the sounds of her reassuring you, reminding you that you were safe in her arms, helped to drown out your torturous thoughts.
It was ten minutes before you finally calmed down. Ten agonizing minutes of Jenna worrying sick over you. Wondering if she was doing too much, or maybe too little. Wondering what happened that hurt you this much, did they say something? Do something? Ten long minutes of wondering if she was even helping at all, or just making everything worse?
It wasn't until your crying had finally faded into sniffling that she realized how much calmer you were. It was only a few more minutes after that when she noticed your heartbeat finally return to its familiar steady rhythm.
Your face was still buried into Jenna's shoulder, your arms tightly wrapped around her, when you felt her shift. The two of you hadn't moved from your position in ages, the small shift felt jarring.
Her hand left from under your shirt, and you felt her put the stethoscope off to the side somewhere.
"You okay, baby?"
Despite how Jenna was whispering, it sounded loud in the quiet room. You buried your face further into her shoulder, shaking your head no.
"Do you wanna move to the bed or stay down here?"
You shook your head no once again. You didn't want to move. You just wanted to stay like this forever.
She was silent, she didn't move or say anything. You started doubting your decision. What if she wanted to move? What if she was uncomfortable? The two of you hadn't moved in ages, what if she was hurting or-
"It's ok, we don't have to go anywhere," it was as if she could read your mind. Putting you at ease before your thoughts could eat you alive.
Before your mind could wander anymore, she shifted again, stealing your attention from any stray thoughts. With one arm she reached up to the bed behind her, grabbing one of the blankets and yanking it over the edge. The soft mass landed on the tops of your heads. It was only there for a second before Jenna pulled it down, wrapping it around your shoulders to keep the two of you warm.
Jenna grabbed the stethoscope, she took the two earpieces and gently set them over your ears. She grabbed the drum and put it under her shirt. It took a second, but the sound the Jenna's heartbeat quickly flooded your ears. It was quiet and calm, the familiar rhythm quickly putting you at ease.
It was sweet. The way Jenna just knew how to comfort you. Even on your worst days, she always knew what to say or do to get you feeling better. Anything and everything from midnight fast food runs to ice cream and movie nights, Jenna always made your days better.
âI love you; Iâm always going to be here for you,â She kissed the top of your forehead before wrapping her arms around you, âTry and get some sleep, ok? Iâm right here if you need anything.â
âThank you,â it was barely even a whisper, you werenât even sure if she had heard it. It didnât really matter if she had or not, the way she held you in her arms told you everything you needed to know.
You would always be safe with her.
You drifted off to sleep with a smile as Jenna's soft heartbeat thumped away in your ears.
Hiya I was wondering if you could do this as a story for Jenna.
Reader is crying alot and Jenna knows she's been really depressed as of late. Her family had been abusing her for years and her ptsd has been taking a toll on her. Jenna calms her down by listening to her heart with a stethoscope her mom gave her (her moms a nurse) and gently rocks reader back and forth, whispering sweet things like 'shhhh it's okay' at the same time to soothe her. When Jenna hears her heart rate slow down she puts the stethoscope in Y/N's ears let's her hear Jennas heart and she slowly falls asleep to the drum of her lovers heart.
Sorry if this an odd request, my friend did this with me to calm me down when my ptsd falls like kicking my ass. Hope you fill this.â€ïž
summary: those bad thoughts in your head get a little too loud one day, and you can't take it anymore...
pairing: Jenna Ortega x gn!Reader
tw: self-harm, depression, suicide attempt (if any of these topics are triggering for you, please do not read)
words: 1.88k
a/n: i wrote this for @nofreakinglooseends, hope this lives up to your expectations bub...
*** if you have experience with depression or suicidal thoughts, or if you find any of the above topics triggering in any way - please do not read, these topics are written about in detail below (you have been warned) ***
No one cares.
No one likes you.
You're just a burden.
You paced the bedroom floor, hands gripping the sides of your head as you wondered why your brain hated you so much. You knew the thoughts werenât true, your friends really did care, they had told you so themselves. Yet, it all felt like one big lie.
In the midst of your pacing, something caught your eye. You looked up only to spot yourself in the bedroom mirror. For a moment, you were caught off guard; you didnât look like yourself anymore. Dark circles under your eyes, hair that hadnât been brushed in days, pale skin, and lifeless eyes. You looked like a shell of your former self, barely even recognizable.
When had it gotten this bad?
The floodgates opened. The thoughts came barreling back. Too loud to ignore this time.
Stupid.
Mistake.
Failure.
No one cares.
No one gives a shit.
Better off deadâŠ
You started pacing again, a bit faster this time, praying that the voices would all just go away.
Your mind slipped to your girlfriend. She always seemed to know how to help. What would she say right now? Your mind was blank, you couldnât think of anything. Then again, it was impossible to think at all with the voices shouting in your head, screaming about what a burden you were.
Jenna doesnât even care. Why would she?
She only stays with you out of pity.
She doesn't care.
âFuck, fuck, fuckâŠâ you muttered to yourself, tears beginning to slip down your face, âJust shut up already!â
Call me if you need anything. Thatâs what Jenna told you earlier before leaving for work. You could sense the full-blown breakdown on the horizon, just minutes away. But you shouldnât call her, right? She doesnât need your problems right now. She already has enough to deal with at work as it is, she doesnât need you making things worseâŠ
She doesnât love you.
She probably wouldnât even pick up the phone if you called.
Lies. It was all lies. Jenna told you she loved you every morning and every night. She was there for you all the time. Of course, she cared⊠right?
âFuck it,â you grabbed your phone from the nightstand, finding her contact and hitting the call button.
You sat on the edge of the bed, knee bouncing up and down anxiously as you listened to the dial tone.
Once⊠Twice⊠Voicemail.
âFuckkkkkk,â
You redialed the number, hoping Jenna would pick up.
She doesnât love you.
You donât deserve her.
She can do better.
âCome on, go fasterâŠâ you muttered, your knee bouncing faster as you waited for someone to pick up.
Voicemail. Again.
âFuck!â
You shot up from the bed; anger and panic flooding your mind. Not even realizing what you were doing, you threw your phone across the room. You didnât particularly care. Your mind was on autopilot.
Tears rolled down your face and you could barely see through the blurry vision.
Maybe the voices were right. Maybe your mind didn't hate you, maybe it was just telling you the ugly truth⊠Your friends don't care about you. Your girlfriend doesn't love you. Youâre just a worthless nobody.
Maybe it would just be better if you werenât around anymore. Maybe it would be better if you were dead.
Dead. It was terrifying how much the thought of being dead didnât bother you. The idea was almost welcoming. You wouldnât have to suffer anymore, just peace⊠Peace sounded nice.
"Fuck!" You couldn't take it anymore. The voices were too loud, you couldn't think. Everything hurt. You needed to do something.
You rushed to the bathroom, the tears running down your face made it hard to see. You yanked open the cabinet drawer, digging around for where you hid it. Your fingers brushed against the cool metal, you raced to grab it without caring how it dug into your hand, nearly drawing blood.
You sunk down to the tile floor, rolling up the edge of your shorts to see the fresh cuts. Red lines spanning an inch or so long, each one scabbed over and bruised. You eyed an untouched spot between two red lines, before you could think you pushed the blade in, dragging it across the skin.
Blood trickled down the side of your thigh and onto the tile floor below, but you didn't care. Your mind was finally at ease.
It hurt like a bitch. But at the same time, the pain was comforting. Just for a while, it distracted your mind, easing your racing thoughts.
You looked down, eyeing the cut, the long trail of blood that cascaded down the side of your thigh.
Looking at it seemed to make it hurt worse. It made the voices come back. The cut was just a looming reminder of what a failure you were. But thatâs all you were anymore. A mistake. A failure. A nobody.
You eyed the razor blade in your hand. Part of you knew you shouldnât, it was a bad idea. But the voices were so much louder, so much more convincing. Your head was spinningâŠ
Fuck it.
You dug the knife into your wrist, dragging the blade up towards your elbow. It had to be close to three or four inches long, the blood seeping out nearly instantly. It hurt worse than the ones on your thigh, but you didnât care. If you were lucky, you wouldnât be able to feel it soon anyway.
You did it again, taking the blade and dragging it up the other arm. Blood was dripping all over the floor, all over yourself, but you couldn't care less.
Her stomach twisted into knots; her hands shook as they gripped the wheel. She only left her phone for like ten minutes, maybe twelve at most, and in that time, she somehow had two back-to-back missed calls from you. She tried calling you back but to no avail. Thatâs when the panic set in. You rarely ever called her, and you never missed her calls.
She drove like a madman trying to get home. She was definitely breaking more than one law. Other people were honking, even flipping her off as she drove past, but she paid them no mind. The only thing she could think about was you.
Jenna fumbled to unlock the door; her hands were shaking. It took her longer than she wouldâve liked to admit to get the key into the lock. Her mind was a wreck, her head was spinning, and all she could think about was you.
The second she was over the threshold she was calling out for you, praying for some sign that she was crazy and that you were fine.
Unfortunately, her prayers went unanswered.
She checked the living room first; it was closest to the front door. No luck, you werenât there.
Then she checked the bedroom. She immediately noticed the dent in the wall; your phone lying on the floor underneath it, the screen completely shattered.
Just as quickly as she found your shattered phone, she noticed the light from the bathroom. The door was wide open.
Her stomach dropped; her heart was in her throat. She just knew something was wrong.
The first thing she saw was you sitting on the bathroom floor, unconscious. Then she noticed all the blood. It was everywhere. You were practically sitting in a pool of it.
The razor blade was still lightly clutched in your hand, the cuts going up your arms were an angry shade of red. Your shorts were hiked up, showcasing a sea of white scars and a slew of new cuts.
She wanted to puke.
She knew you were struggling, but she never knew it was this bad.
She took a deep breath, swallowing down the bile in the back of her throat and suppressing the tears that threatened to break free.
Everything hurt. Your head was pounding, and the dim lights felt too bright against your eyes. The bed underneath you felt stiff and uncomfortable. All your muscles ached.
Despite the way your muscles protested, you pushed yourself up on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows.
The first thing you noticed was that you werenât home, you were in a hospital room. A rather small one. There was the bed you laid in, a small bathroom off to the side of the room, and a TV hanging on the wall. But most importantly, sitting in an armchair underneath the window, was Jenna.
She was lying sideways on the chair, her head draped uncomfortably over one arm of the chair while her legs dangled off the other, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Even from a distance, you could see the dark bags under her eyes, like she hadnât slept in days.
What was more worrying to you though, was how you got here. Why the hospital? Did you get hurt? Was Jenna hurt? What happened? The last thing you could remember was going to sleep the other night, with Jenna curled up in your arms under the covers.
You looked down, trying to look for any obvious injuries. You quickly spotted the big gauze bandages covering the length of your forearms.
âHey,â
You jumped. Your head shot up and over towards the window. You mustâve accidentally woken her up somehow.
Jenna was sitting up in the chair, looking over at you tired and worriedly. She looked exhausted.
âHey,â Your voice was hoarse. Your throat was dry and sore, and it hurt to speak.
âHowâre you feeling?â
âWhat happened?â You asked, dodging her question. You felt like shit, but you werenât going to tell her that.
âYou donât remember?â Her eyebrows furrowed, confusion taking over her features.
âNoâŠâ
You had an idea of what mightâve happened. But you were hoping it wasnât true.
âWhatâs the last thing you remember?â
âYou came home from work. We ordered takeout for dinner and watched a movie, then we went to bed.â
Her face dropped. A bad feeling washed over you.
âBabe, that was a week agoâŠâ Her voice was soft and quiet. You couldnât tell if she was sad or scared, maybe both⊠Most likely both.
âOh.â You werenât sure what to even say.
Silence filled the room. It was painfully loud, nearly suffocating you in the tiny room.
You didnât want to ask the question sitting on the tip of your tongue. You didnât really need to; you already knew the answer.
Before you knew it, tears started streaming down your cheeks. Youâd actually done it. You couldnât believe it. You tried to kill yourself⊠You were at a loss for words.
You felt the bed dip next to you, Jenna sliding onto the bed next to you. She gently wrapped her arm around you, bringing you closer to her. You rested your head on her shoulder, the tears streaming silently down your face.
Jenna didnât say anything, she just held you close while you cried. Comforting you in the only way her tired mind could think of.
Neither of you knew what was going to happen next. But Jenna was sure of one thing; whatever it was, she was going to be there for you every step of the way.
summary: You go over to Jenna's for some halloween fun
pairing: Jenna Ortega x gn!Reader
tw: none really? light mention of knives for pumpkin carving but thats it (if i'm missing something let me know so i can fix/add)
words: 1.09k
a/n: Happy Halloween guys! i did this at the last minute if i'm honest. only did light editing and proofing so there might be some mistakes lol.
You pushed the doorbell in with your elbow, hearing the familiar sound echoing from within the house. You barely even had to wait thirty seconds before the door shot open, your girlfriend standing on the other side with a blinding smile.
You noticed her eyes excitedly jump down to the two pumpkins in your arms, her smile growing wider if that was even possible.
"What're you staring at, Ortega? My eyes are up here," You joked, smirking at your girlfriend's exasperated expression.
"You're late," if she rolled her eyes any harder, they would've rolled right out of her head, "just, get in here already."
Despite the jokes, both of you truly did love Halloween, it was one of the best times of the year. The two of you planned to spend the whole night together carving pumpkins and watching scary movies.
As you walked through the house you noticed all the decorations set up. Fake cobwebs adorned with plastic spiders hung in the hallway, fake bats hung from the living room fan, caution tape littered doorways, and The Monster Mash played quietly in the background. She really does go all out for Halloween, you thought to yourself.
Jenna helped you put the pumpkins down on the kitchen counter. She grabbed out the soap and a scrubby brush and told you to clean off the pumpkins in the sink, which you happily obliged.
You got lost in thought while cleaning off the pumpkins. You were excited, you couldn't stop thinking about what to carve. Should it be something elaborate and scary? Or maybe something simple and cute? Maybe a mix of both? It was your first Halloween with Jenna after all, and you didn't want to scare her off with your excitement.
By the time both pumpkins were done and washed, you turned back around to find the kitchen table covered in trash bags and Jenna setting the table with a handful of carving knives.
"Carving pumpkins isn't just some elaborate excuse to murder me, right?" You joked. Once again you saw her eyes roll, but the smile on her face told you she was far from annoyed.
"I could never kill you, you're too cute for that," She looked over at you and winked. The gesture alone made your knees wobbly and your stomach twist into knots.
Jenna refused to show you what she was carving into her pumpkin. You could see her eagerly getting into her drawing, her eyebrows furrowing in the cutest way while her Sharpie moved wildly in front of her. Itâs a surprise, she insisted.
You decided that if Jenna could get so excited and into her pumpkin carving, so could you. You drew up the best pumpkin face you could think of, sharp gnarly teeth, and slanted eyes. The design wasnât as good as you normally drew, but you chalked it up to the cute brunette across the table distracting you.
Once you had decided the design was good enough, you picked out a knife and started cutting away. You started with some of the bigger details, watching as the big knife cut through the pumpkin like butter.
It felt like forever, carving out little bits at a time, and you were covered in pumpkin guts up to your elbows. But finally, you were finished!
âDone!â You shouted, setting the knife down and jumping up from your seat. You looked over at Jenna to see her giggling at you, but you didnât mind, you liked the sound of her laugh.
âCan I see yours now?â You asked, excited to finally see what the surprise was.
âSure, love,â She smiled, getting up from her chair to turn her pumpkin around so you could see it, âI finished a few minutes ago anyway.â
She spun the pumpkin around to show a more traditional-looking jack oâ lantern. It had big triangle eyes and a toothy grin. Even though it wasnât scary it still seemed much better than yours. Somehow hers looked perfect, and yours looked terrible.
âWowâŠâ you hadnât even realized you said it till Jenna's face lit up, her smile growing brighter than the full moon on a cloudless night. Youâd say it a million more times too if it got her to smile like that again.
âCome on baby, let me see yours,â
You spun your pumpkin around, albeit a bit reluctantly. Hers was so much better than yours, she was going to laugh at you for sure. Yours was a bit more on the scary side, pointy teeth with sharp fangs and hooded eyes, though it wasnât very good.
You waited for the laughing, but it never came. Instead, she looked impressed⊠like really impressed. âBaby, thatâs amazing, I love it,â
You were shocked. She had to be lying, right?
âReally?â
âYeah baby, it's perfect.â
You rolled your eyes, attempting to hide the smile that crept up on your, âI mean, itâs alright, but itâs nowhere near as good as yours.â
She could tell you were joking around, but she decided to play along. She gasped, feigning shock, âWhat? Yours is like twice as good as mine,â
âOh, well now I know youâre lying to me,â You joked, your tone dripping with sarcasm.
âWhat? I would never!â
âLiar!â You all but shouted it, faking an upset look. You crossed your arms and looked over your shoulder pretending to pout.
It was silent for a second. Then something slammed into your chest, smacking back down on the table.
You looked at your chest, then the table⊠She had thrown a handful of pumpkin guts at you.
âWhy you little-â You grabbed the lump she had thrown at you and tossed it back with a smirk. She ducked at the last second and the pile landed with a wet splat against the wall.
You saw her laugh, then she started reaching for the bowl of guts in the middle of the table.
âOh no you donât,â You reached as fast as you could, both you and Jenna grabbed the bowl at the same time.
Fifteen minutes later, you were both covered head to toe in pumpkin guts. It covered the walls, the floor, and the table. Some made it as far as the living room, but most of it clung to you and Jenna. It was agreed that youâd both have to shower and clean up before any movies could be watched. But despite the mess, and the feeling of pumpkin strings down the back of your shirt, you already knew this was your favorite Halloween yet.
"Just a few more steps," you held on to your girlfriendâs hands, watching the little furrow of her eyebrows as she kept her eyes closed.
"I'm starting to wonder if you're just leading me out to the middle of nowhere to kill me,"
You scoffed, glad she couldn't see the embarrassingly big smile spread across your face, "I couldn't kill you, you are way too cute,"
"Alright, just one more-" You took another step only to lose your footing. You fell backward, your back slamming into the ground harshly. Jenna, who was holding your hands to keep steady, tumbled forward with you. She fell on top of you, the impact knocking all the wind from your lungs. You heard a noise akin to a groan or a yelp, but you couldnât tell if it was you or Jenna through the commotion.
"Oh my god, are you okay?" she quickly pushed herself up, straddling your waist as she checked you over for any injuries.
"Fine," you groaned out, your chest aching from the fall, "surpriseee..."
Her head tilted as she looked at you confused, wondering if maybe you hit your head on the way down.
You pointed behind you and her eyes followed. The white sheet laid out across the sand, the candles lit in the center, the little picnic basket at the edge. The ocean sat just in front of you, not even twenty feet out. It was cliche, but romantic nonetheless.
"You did all this?" you nodded, not lost on how she was still straddling you, her thumbs lightly brushing beneath your shirt and sending electricity through your nerves.
"It's amazing, I love it," she kissed you, making sure to pour all her emotions into the action.
You never knew a kiss could be so soft and sweet, and at the same time take your breath away and leave your head spinning.
"WowâŠ" it was all you could think to say as Jenna pulled away.
She giggled, loving the dumbstruck smile that overtook your features, "Come on, Romeo,"
She helped you up off the ground, pulling you towards the picnic blanket.
The sun had just set, hues of red and orange faded into pinks and purples as night crept over the beach. You and Jenna were still cuddled on the sheet you had laid out, a spare blanket was wrapped around the two of you. Soft music played in the background as you both watched waves roll in and out.
Jenna moved to snuggle deeper into your lap, wiggling back and forth in your arms before suddenly stopping. A confused expression made its way across her face.
"Babe?"
"Yeah?" You looked at her sitting in your arms, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"What's in your pocket?"
You thought about it, your pocket? You didn't have anything in your- oh-
Then you felt it, digging into the side of your hip. How could you forget?
"Oh, that," now she seemed curious, "I got you something, close your eyes for me?"
She spun around in your lap to face you, giving you her full attention and closing her eyes like you asked.
You pulled the little ring box out from your pocket, opening it to make sure it still looked perfect for her. It brought a smile to your face, newfound excitement coursing through your veins like lightning in a bottle. You took a second to compose yourself, trading in that toothy grin for a softer smile instead. You closed the little box and held it out towards Jenna, who still had her eyes closed as patiently as ever.
"Ready?" you asked, doing your best to sit still despite your excitement and nerves.
"Open!" You couldn't wait for an answer, you were too excited.
Jenna opened her eyes, the gaze immediately landing on the box in your hands. Her eyes shot back up to yours, her brown eyes filled with curiosity and excitement lit up by the faint glow of sunset.
"Baby-" she took the small box from your hands not yet opening it but examining it with curiosity.
You started to get nervous, she didn't think you were proposing right? It was still way too early for that...
âŠright?
"Open it,"
She looked up at you excitedly before gently opening the box in her hands. You watched her jaw drop, staring down at the little ring inside.
You started to get nervous, what if this was a bad idea? what if she didn't like it? was it too much? too little? maybe this whole thing was just a stupid idea-
"Oh my god... It's amazing baby!" her face lit up, and she went from shock to amazement. One of the happiest looks you'd ever seen on her face.
Inside the box was a little silver ring, made to look like the origami rings you made her. You had it custom-made just for her, and by custom you mean you made it for her yourself. Your friend taught you how to cut metal and use a welder just so you could make it for her. It was far from perfect, but you thought that that's what made it special.
You and Jenna had a tradition. Every time you went out, you gave her a paper ring. It started as just a way to keep busy at restaurants, giving you something to fidget with to help hide your nerves, but over time it grew into something more. Now whenever you and Jenna go on a date, you have an origami ring waiting for her. Except now, she could take one with her wherever she goes, and this one would last much longer than the paper ones.
Jenna slid the ring onto her finger, admiring the way it looked on her hand. Her eyes held more adoration than you'd ever seen before. You wanted to kiss her right then and there and never let go. And as if the universe were listening, you got your wish.
Jenna grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. You were caught off guard, but that didnât matter when all you could focus on was Jenna's lips on yours and the taste of her strawberry chapstick.
She wrapped her arms around you and pulled you in tight. Any tighter and she might as well have been suffocating you, not that you would've minded. You wrapped your arms back around her and buried your face into her neck, the smell of vanilla and oak overwhelming your senses.
You didn't really care what the future held as long as you had Jenna there beside you.
heyy love ur writing! just wanted to let u know that i think someone on wattpad took ur story âpuppy loveâ for their margot robbie imagines book. their user is anonymouslyperfectt, and the story âpuppyâ in their book just seemed so so similar to ur story and even called the dog goose before changing it to coco. all love, x
Heyy! Thank you to whoever sent this in!!
I've gone and read the story and it definitely seems plagiarized, I'm gonna reach out the person later tonight to ask them to take it down (if they say no it's reporting time lol)
a/n: I don't have any experience with eating disorders so this may not be an accurate description. I know bulimia affects people in different ways and I did my best to research and depict this disorder in an authentic manner. if you have an eating disorder you should definitely seek help. it took me a while to find the right words to write this but hopefully this is what you were asking for anon :)
*if mentions of eating disorders (i.e.; anorexia, bulimia, etc.) trigger you please refrain from reading
Jenna was sitting across the dinner table from you, her plate almost empty, unlike yours, which you'd barely made a dent in. You'd eaten a little bit, but you didn't feel like eating anymore, you just kept pushing the rest of your food around with your fork.
Jenna watched you mindlessly push the food around on your plate, completely unaware of her eyes on you. She was worried. You'd been acting strange for a while now, and that bubbly, carefree demeanor you carried proudly seemed to be fading away.
She chalked it up to stress at first, work was rough for you and she hadn't been able to spend as much time with you due to her own projects. But it felt like there was something else going on as well, she just couldn't figure out what.
"Babe?"
Your head shot up, finally noticing her worried expression. It sent a wave of guilt through you; you hadn't meant to make her worry...
"Is everything okay?" She seemed wary of asking like you were some ticking time bomb waiting to go off.
"Yeah, fine," you forced a small smile, trying your best to ease your girlfriend's worries, "I'll be right back, I'm gonna go to the bathroom."
You got up from the table as fast as humanly possible while trying not to look suspicious, a task easier said than done. Especially when your girlfriend is great at reading body language.
You made sure to shut the bathroom door behind you, instantly turning on the sink to drown out any noise.
Your stupid thoughts, they were at it again. You often felt safe in Jenna's presence, like your own insecurities couldn't touch you. But right now, there was a war raging inside your mind and you were quickly losing.
You knew looking in the mirror right now would be a death sentence, so you avoided that, instead, focusing on the way your hands gripped the white countertop.
It's just in your head. It's all in your head. You kept telling yourself. You can control it. Don't listen to it.
But the other little voice in your head was screaming, begging, clawing its way through the caverns of your mind. If it were any louder you wouldn't be surprised if the neighbors down the street could hear it. Fat. Fat. Fat. Too many calories.
Fat. Need to purge.
Ignore it. It can't control you.
Purge!
Shut up!
It started to dawn on you that maybe you were fighting a losing battle. Destined to lose no matter how long you fought.
Jenna was worried. You ran to the bathroom fairly quickly. Something wasn't right, she could feel it. She could hear the sink running, drowning out any noise.
Tired of the uncertainties rolling around in the back of her mind, she made her way to the bathroom, pressing her ear up to the door to listen in. Yes, it was an invasion of privacy, but she needed to make sure you were okay.
For a moment, all she could hear was the sound of the sink running. Then she heard it, it practically echoed against the bathroom walls. The sound of puking.
She gently pushed open the bathroom door, just to confirm if her suspicions were true. Through the crack of the door, she could see you slumped over the toilet, your knees digging into the tile floor as you gripped the bowl and emptied the contents of your stomach.
Jenna pushed open the door the rest of the way. She sat down on the floor next to you, trying to give you space while still being close enough to rub your back soothingly.
She didn't say anything, just sat there, doing her best to provide you with comfort.
It had been quiet for a few minutes now. You were silently waiting for the next wave of vomit, but there didn't seem to be one coming. The tears had stopped flowing long ago, but the salty tracks were still wet against your cheeks trailing down to your chin. Your throat ached and you could feel the shame of the situation beginning to seep in.
"It's back, isn't it?" It was Jenna who'd broken the silence, barely even whispering in the quiet of the bathroom. The only noise was the sink still softly running in the background. Part of you was glad she left the sink running, the sound of the water was better than having to listen to your puking echo in dead silence.
You nodded, silently answering Jenna's question.
You told Jenna about your eating disorder long ago, when the two of you first started dating. You didn't give her many details, and she didn't push you to tell her. She knew the basics, and she was glad you trusted her enough to tell her anything at all. You were in recovery; you were doing well. At least you were till a few weeks ago. All it took was a bad fight with a close friend and a few comments about your past to send you spiraling. You relapsed that day and have been struggling to manage it since.
Jenna's hand still rested on your back, doing her best to try and comfort you, "How can I help?"
"I don't know..." You answered truthfully.
"We're going to get through this together, okay? I love you. I support you."
If it weren't for the conflicting tide of emotions washing over you, you'd probably be smiling like a love-sick fool. I love you. I support you. You said that to Jenna every time she had to go away for filming or movie premieres or whatever else her busy schedule had planned. It had become routine between the two of you, one that had become a source of comfort for both of you. Now it was her turn to support you.
"Let's get you cleaned up, okay."
You let Jenna help clean you up. She made sure you brushed your teeth extra well, making you use mouthwash twice just to be safe. She helped you into the shower and helped your tired form get dressed after. And when it was all said and done, she made sure you were cozy in bed before putting on your favorite movie to fall asleep to. The talk of figuring out a plan was promised to be done tomorrow, for now, all you wanted was comfort and your girlfriend, and Jenna was more than happy to help with both of those things.
tw: none, pure fluff (not unless you include my terrible writing lol)
words: 360
You rolled over on your side again, trying to get more comfortable, hoping that maybe if you were in just the position you might be able to fall asleep.
What was most likely only thirty seconds felt more like thirty years. You tossed again, rolling back around, trying to be gentle so you wouldnât wake up your girlfriend sleeping next to you.
More minutes passed and still nothing. Your mind just wouldn't shut off. Sometimes it was random thoughts, other times you were starting at the back of your eyelids, hoping you'd eventually fall asleep.
Still nothing...
You leaned over, checking the time on your phone; 3:15 am. So much for a good night's sleep...
You put your phone back on the nightstand, wiggling back under the covers to get comfortable again.
"Mmmm, baby..." An arm was draped over your waist and your girlfriend's groggy voice broke the silence of the room, "why are you awake?"
You felt bad for waking her up with all your tossing and turning. But you couldn't help it.
"I'm sorry, love. I just can't fall asleep,"
Jenna snuggled closer to you, wrapping her arms around you, and burying her face in your chest.
"Did you take your meds?"
"no..."
"BabeâŠ" even in her half-asleep state she still found the energy to scold you.
"I know, I know," you sighed, "I just don't like taking them, they make me feel sleepy the next day,"
She sighed, it was way too late to take them now, not unless you wanted to be comatose for the rest of the day. But it gave her another idea to try.
"Come here," she pulled you closer to her, practically draping you across her small frame.
You settled in between her legs, your ear pressed right against her chest, listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.
She grabbed her phone from the nightstand, putting on some soft music before setting it back down. She raked her hands through your hair, absentmindedly fiddling with the strands.
"Comfy?"
You nodded, ever so slightly starting to drift off to sleep, "perfect..."
It wasn't even five minutes before Jenna peeked down to see you fast asleep, arms wrapped tightly around her.
