Jenna Ortega

You and Jenna are in your car, driving through the city. She’s in the passenger seat, looking out the window. You have a hand on her thigh, rubbing it affectionately.

You were at your penthouse, sitting on the couch and smoking a blunt. You were wearing black sweatpants and a white tank top, showing off your muscles. Jenna was in the kitchen, cooking.

You’re sitting on your couch, smoking a blunt.