Jenna x Reader One-Shots

Set-up

A/N: Ellie x Reader

Summary: Joe is trying to settle into LA as he's trying to run away but when he meets two young girls, he begins to slightly match-make with his girlfriend.

HERE WE GO!

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Joe's POV:

Gosh, I am so tired. I need to start trying to find a job or something. I head outside of my apartment, holding my coffee cup and observing from above. People. People are predictable. I cannot afford to be predictable. My life depends on that. But love, love is what kept me open, alive, different, real. And I also can't afford to do love, so you see my dilemma. Lady, how many photos does it take? Come on.

"Are you like, 'Lady, come on. How many photos does it take?' Crazy thing is, she never posts any of them." The young girl expresses to me, I glance at her, confused. "That's, like, gotta be a diagnosis, right?" She asks, glancing between me and the woman. Precocious, unsupervised kid who thinks she's not a kid. "Mr. Strauss secretly has six chihuahuas so she walks them in shifts." She continues to inform me, I glance at the woman who is walking a girl and nod my head lightly. "And you?" She asks, I look over at her, slightly surprised by her question. "You are Will Bettelheim," God, kill me for that name. To the mother who decided to marry a man with that last name, I really despise you. "LA newbie." She says, tilting her head. Sounding very charismatic.

"Yeah, that's me." I answer, nodding my head and looking down at my coffee cup, I move it close to my lips, taking a sip of my drink. Who is protecting her—? No, no, she is not my problem.

"What's your Insta?" The girl asks me, as I take a sip of my drink. I swallow, lowering my cup and glancing at her. "Or do you only have a Finsta?" She questions, showing me her phone that's on the search bar of Instagram.

"I'm a little behind the times." I answer in reply, truthfully.

"Clearly." She quips, I send her a glare, sighing softly. "Anyway, I'm Ellie-Eyeballs." She informs me, looking away from me and brushing her hair out of her face. I notice her eyes look me up in down as if she was inspecting me. "So..." She begins, taking a small inhale, resting her forearm on the railing. "you have a girlfriend yet?" She asks me, twirling a strand of her hair. Holy shit.

"Ellie, how old are you? Like 14?" I guess,

"Fifteen. Basically sixteen, so..." She counters, seemingly offended by my guess. She removes her forearm off of the railing and looks away from me. No, she's not my problem.

"It was nice to meet you." I express to her, offering my hand. She glances at my hand before chuckling softly, she moves her hand out and takes my hand, delicately. Shaking it.

"Cool. Manners." She says, sounding very... flirtatious about it. She tenses her shoulders, looking at me excitedly before resting her shoulders. I remove my hand from hers and rest my hands at my hands. I glance down, hearing her speak. "So Delilah, she's not a hooker." She informs me, I glance at her, panicked at her assumption. "It's what you're thinking, right?" No, I'm thinking about how I can quickly get out of this dumb conversation. "Yeah, no, she's a reporter, that guy's a publicist, and he just paid some crazy kill fee to not run something about someone famous." She explains to me, pointing between the two. "It's sick, she's a genius." She compliments,

"Ellie?" Delilah calls on her, looking up between me and Ellie. She storms closer, seeming angry. "No harassing the tenants." She scolds Ellie, I glance between the two. Could they... be sisters? I mean, they definitely act like sisters.

"I'm not. We're old friends." She quips, beckoning her hand between us, making me chuckle softly. She's quick, this one.

"Well, you're late for school, smart-ass." Delilah reminds her. Too young to be Ellie's mom. "Is that my shirt? That's my fucking shirt." Delilah announces angrily, resting her hand on her waist. "How many times...?" Sisters. "Can you please not wear that to school and destroy it, please?" She asks as Ellie begins to walk downstairs, Delilah raising her voice slightly in order for Ellie to hear her. If Delilah counts as parental supervision, it explains everything. Ellie shows herself, beginning to walk toward her, heading toward the gate to leave.