#tara carpenter x you

[ajortga]

soft spot

word count: 1.2k+

summary: the only thing wednesday can tolerate is you, and she feels something when she sees a side of you that is rarely shown.

a/n: my mind is actually so overstimulated too much has happened this past week

-

With break season occurring, school being out for a week meant babysitting your younger siblings and nieces back at home with your family. It was getting to Wednesday, you could tell.

She had wanted to spend spring break with you. Maybe walking down-town of Jericho, fetch a brew of coffee, play tricks with the others. Being with kids for almost all of it was not something she wanted to do.

She wasn’t good with kids. Pugsley was already enough for her. He wasn’t like her. Pugsley was filled with stupidity, he was too unaware, making him the perfect target to be shut in a locker after school.

Pugsley never learned from her, always ending up in lockers. And Wednesday always had to be the one to get him out.

It made her want to pull her braids out.

You had no say on going back home, it was mandatory. But, you wanted to see your family, your older siblings, younger ones, their children. 

Besides the passive-aggressiveness Wednesday had when talking about the feisty children, you loved them. They were a soulful, bundle of joy. Minus the fact that they loved tugging on whatever hair they could get hands on.

You left that part out to Wednesday.

Wednesday grumbled as you tugged on her sleeve to your aunt’s house. You begrudgingly let her carry your bags that were needed for the next two nights.

“It’ll be fun, baby,” you say, fluttering your eyelashes at her, “they aren’t as bad as you’re thinking they’ll be, I promise.” 

Hopefully.

-

As soon as you open the door, you’re greeting with three little children coming at you.

“Auntie Y/N!” They squeal happily, giggling and dropping their toys as you toss your purse to the side and wrap your arms around them.

They hug you tightly as you lift them off the floor and spin them around. They definitely grew from the last time you saw them, and to say the least, so did you. It had only been a year, but our hair grew out, you no longer had braces, and everybody but the little ones had met Wednesday.

“You’ve guys grown so much!” You grunt as you prop them down. The feeling was nostalgic, the smell of home-made food, the photos of your family, it looked just like how it looked a long time ago.

You turn to Wednesday, taking her hand and pulling her to your side. She traced the knuckles on the back of your hand, looking down at it.

“This is my girlfriend, Wednesday. She, brought something for you guys-”

“Ice cream?”

“Toys?”

“A taxidermy. Y/N told me you guys like birds.” Wednesday said, taking out a black bird and showing it to the three. “It’s a raven.”

The little girl looks up at her, then you. "What's a taxidermy?"

You blink, eyes flickering around, "You'll find out when you're older."

You rubbed her back, she was trying to make a good first impression. 

It was silent for a moment, one of nieces taking the raven in her hand as the others observed it. Then they squealed. “I love him!”

It came in suite, the children holding onto Wednesday’s legs. “I like her!”

“Mommy! Y/N’s friend brought us a stuffie! It looks so real!”

Her pursed lips twitch up slightly as you turn to her, a smile gracing your face. “They like you.”

-

Curled up in the corner of the couch, Wednesday’s eyes are glued onto her book. You’re buried with her, snoozing with a blanket over you. Her thin hands play with your hair as your eyes slightly flutter.

It makes her press a small kiss to the side of your head.

A loud, angry cry from the kitchen stirred you up, your eyes bleary as you try getting up. Wednesday stops you with a hand on your hip. 

“Stop pushing me, Maya!”

“It’s my turn!”

You groan, your body groggy as you get up and head to the kitchen, Wednesday following suite. Her ears felt like they were bleeding from their screaming. 

“Hey, hey, guys, what’s going on? What happened?” You murmur, bending down to the kitchen floor with your nieces and nephews. They were so loud that they could barely hear you, causing Wednesday to pick one up to shut them up.

“Maya pushed me when I was playing..” Michael, the one in Wednesday’s arms, said.

Maya pouted, looking up at you with the ipad in her hand. “I didn’t mean to, I was trying to get the game from him.”

Your other niece, Genevie, the youngest, had chocolate ice cream over her face, looking clueless. You scoop her up and wipe her mouth with a towel. 

“Well, Maya, it’s not nice to push. But Michael, we don’t have to scream if it was an accident. Okay?” You place Genevie back on the floor to let her run around. “Next time we can say it nicely so we don’t push others on accident, okay?”

Your voice was soft, gentle, it shocked Wednesday that you hadn’t gotten upset as she set Michael back down.

They both look at each other and nod, murmuring their apologies. 

“I’ll let you both have my phone so you can both play. And then I’ll make some pasta for dinner, sound good?”

“Can we have mac n cheese?” Michael asked.

“No! You got to choose last time Michael!” Maya cried, “Can it be tomato?”

Wednesday grumbled, “At this point, give them spider soup.”

You sigh deeply, giving them a small smile. “I can make both. You guys want garlic bread with it?”

“Yeah!”

-

A couple hours later, you were back in Wednesday’s arms, playing with Genevie’s hair and tying it into a braid. “You want butterflies in them?” You ask softly, grabbing a few clips from the table beside you as a rubber band was tucked against your teeth.

Wednesday watched you, at Nevermore, you were always more closed-off. Well, until people got to know you, you were an energetic ball of nature. Seeing you now was something new to her. Sure you were always sweet to people, but she had never seen you this gentle or motherly.

Small butterfly clips are added onto your niece’s hair as you smile at her, “All done. You look just like the fairy in the movie you watched, Genny.” You grab a mirror and hand it to her as she smiles at her reflection, giggling.

Genevie launches herself at you, hugging you tightly. “I love it, Auntie Y/N!” 

You giggle, rubbing her shoulder. “You wanna learn how to do it on somebody’s hair?”

Her eyes almost sparkle, “Who’s?”

Slowly, you look at Wednesday, giving her a pleading flutter of your lashes. 

She looks at you, nose wrinkling, “Seriously?”

-

Your girlfriend looks at you most of the time while you and Genevie do her hair, which is currently looking like she just came out of a unicorn balloon park. Also minus the fact that she keeps giving small glares at your niece when she tugs too hard on her hair, forcing you to be the one to tell her to tone it down.

You can tell that she's looking at you, by the way it's quiet, besides the sounds of your mingling breaths. "Thinking about me?"

When you look at her, she has this curiosity in her eyes, a thoughtful look. You tilt your head, a confused noise coming out of your mouth.

"I just never seen you around children before. Nuisances. It's.. Different. You're sweet."

You smile, looking back at her hair, about to say something, till Genevie shakes your wrist to help her.

“Okay, so three strands, okay, yes, yes, I’ll teach you how to do a french braid AFTER. Okay, one here.” You guide Genevie’s hands as she messily braids Wednesday’s hair. 

She pulls a strand.

Wednesday inhales, giving a glare, which is softer than most, at you.

“Genevie, you know how to be gentle, let’s do that.”

She looks up at you, her eyes wide, lips curled into a small pout. “Okay.” 

Wednesday exhales, until you nudge Genevie and she tugs it again.

“Y/N!"

-

[nouvxllev]

after party

Pairing: G!p!Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: in which you both left a party in pure silence just seconds after tara pulled you away from flirting too much with a girl.

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: pure and heavy smut like every scene is a sex scene. oh and its angry sex

a/n: i wanna consider this as the special valentines fic because the main one im writing right now im totally so damn stumped on. so heres one to atleast keep up with my stories

masterlist.

You were too fucked out of your mind to even process anything. All you took note of was that your girlfriend looks pretty fucking hot when she's jealous.

Your breath was caught in your throat as Tara's hands pressed you firmly against the wall, a forceful thud and your back meeting the hard surface, your bodies pressed together as your hands tried to push her away but your efforts were in vain when you were met with her abs concealed beneath her shirt. Tara's lips claimed yours without a second of hesitation, letting her mouth slip inside as she explored every inch of you.

A gasp that turned into a moan escaped your lips as Tara's hands slid eagerly under your thighs, you could feel a smirk between kisses, her touch warm under your skin as she effortlessly lifted you up against the wall, all while you allowed your tongue surrender as she took control over you. You could feel her fingers slipping under your shorts, caressing every inch of your skin with her thumb, tracing the delicate curves of your ass before squeezing it sent shivers down your spine.

Her lips on yours and her hot breath mingled with your own was its own fix. Too intoxicating, yet so addictive, you couldn't get enough even if it killed you. Your hands go nowhere but to instinctively wrap them around her head, fingers possessively at the nape of her neck, letting your head tilt to create the perfect angle for Tara to deepen her assault inside your mouth.

It wasn't romantic, it wasn't delicate, it wasn't passionate. It was raw, filthy, messy, and sloppy. But who were you to care if you got to see Tara so eager to fuck the shit out of you?

She pulled away, her breathing becoming strained as a string of saliva unraveling themselves as your lips were far apart from hers, an aching sensation that you never wanted to happen. "Why were you flirting with her? In front of me?" Tara breathed out, her voice filled with desperation and want, husky but fuck did it make you clench around nothing.

"I wasn't—god," Your pathetic words turned into a moan when you felt Tara push her body against yours with force. You could feel her hard erection rub against your clothed clit, driving you wild, your hips bucking involuntarily to seek more friction than a simple bump of its head as you struggled to explain, "I didn't mean to."

Her nails dug into the soft and sweaty flesh of your ass, making you wince as she spoke, "You were practically fucking yourself onto her." Tara's words were harsh, but it made your cunt throb with wetness more than ever, clenching around nothing yet again. It took all of your self-control to not pull down everything she had and ride her dick until the insides of your pussy remembered her shape.

"I didn't… I didn't mean to, Tara, please," you stammered. You could feel saliva dripping from your mouth as your abused lips hung open, wanting nothing more than to let Tara inside. Or better yet, letting her cock drill into your mouth until it hits the back of your throat.

Her eyes bore into yours, making you feel like prey under her hands. It was rare to see Tara like this, and fuck it turned you on. "You liked her hands on you, didn't you? You even got her number." The sound of her voice terrified you, but it never overcame the excitement that shot through your spine, shivering as she tried to bring you closer to her, her mouth opened to take yours but you were never granted that.

"No—" You tried to find a voice when all you can do is whine, whimper, and moan whenever her throbbing cock was rubbing against your pussy and the tightening grip she had on your ass. "I don't want her, please," you whined, "I want you. Only you."

"Really, y/n?" Tara's breath caressed your skin, "Then let me fuck you against my bed so everyone in this apartment can hear how fucking good you take my cock. That alright with you, baby?" She purred, her grip on your ass tightening further as she guided both of you toward the bedroom. Her head leaned in, tracing lazy kisses along your jawline. It was crazy to think someone so small could have this much strength.

You nodded feverishly, a small mhm coming out, afraid that your words would just come out as a pathetic whine. Your hands remained on her shoulders as you allowed Tara to manhandle you toward the bed. The ache between your legs, combined with the throbbing need within your pussy, pleaded for her touch even more, wanting nothing but to let her dick plow into your dripping pussy until you couldn't take it.

Tara wasted no time in throwing you against the bed, your back landing on the mattress with a loud thud while her body was on top of yours, her cock pressed so fucking close against your pussy, the subtle friction making your hips buck in a desperate motion. Her hands went down your chest, tugging at the fabric that was the only barrier between her and your body.

"You know, she would've ripped it apart and fucked me so good right now."

You could tell that was the last straw for Tara.

In a heartbeat, Tara abandoned any hint of gentleness she had with you, ripping your blouse open with such force she almost tore it apart, eliciting a rather embarrassing wince from you.

The piece of unwanted fabric desperately clung near the edges of your shoulders, barely holding on as you felt her hands drop to your chest. Her fingers traced the curves of your body, the simple touch making your pussy throb with want yet again, reaching up to your breasts and then to your mouth, her thumb parting your lips as she ducked down to slip her tongue into yours.

Your hands flew to Tara's shorts, fingers frantically pulling the hem down along with her boxers, letting them slide down to Tara's hips as her throbbing cock sprang out, slapping against the fabric of her shirt. She was big. Probably the first and last monstrous cock you'd ever take.

"Tara…" you gasped, her name escaping your lips in a breathy moan as Tara pulled away. Her hands immediately found their way to your waist as her fingers worked to pull your own shorts down, mindlessly discarding them around somewhere, your wet cunt being exposed to the cold air and Tara's gaze.

"God, y/n, you're soaked," she whispered as she wrapped her fingers around her cock, stroking it up and down. Your slick gushing out on her mattress was one of the things that made her erection throb so damn painfully. She guided the head, coaxed with her own pre-cum, to your slick folds, parting them slowly. "Wanna fuck you so deep and let you forget about her entire existence," she breathrd out, her eyes watched yours in a haze with your mouth hung open.

"Tara fucking Carpenter, if you don't—FUCK!"

You cried out as you felt Tara shove her cock deep inside your tight pussy without warning, the sudden invasion making your folds stretch so damn good to accommodate her throbbing length, the pain mixed with pleasure making your head spin and your toes curl.

Tara's hands gripped your hips firmly, her perfectly manicured nails digging into your skin to hold your body steady as she relentlessly kept sinking her huge cock into your heat.

Your body shuddered, making the perfect arch for Tara to penetrate your pussy even further as she leaned down, Tara, wait, you're too big, oh shit...!" You moaned, letting her bite and kiss every inch of her skin as you welcomed her, marking you as her own as if her dick wasn't claiming you right this second.

Tara continued fucking into you, ignoring how painful it was to be inside of you yet so satisfying seeing her dick disappearing and reappearing, your wet slick going nowhere but being used as a lube for her thick and girthy cock.

Her name continuously escaped your lips along with a moan, "...shit! Right there Tara, oh fuck!" You gasped, giving her the most pornographic moan she ever heard, the lewd repeated claps of your ass meeting her hips while she rammed her shaft inside you with disgruntled breaths and grunts.

"Take it, baby," she whispered, her voice husky as her hands slid under your thighs that instinctively encircled her body, "I know you can." She slowed her pace down, grabbing your legs and folding them onto your body then returned to her merciless pace, "Such a perfect mess for me." She grunted, her hips desperately rutting into your sex.

You moaned uncontrollably throughout her room, "So... so full, holy fuck," You groaned, throwing your head back in pure ecstasy, your fists clenching, your eyes rolling back and your toes curling beneath her as you writhed under her touch, wanting more even if your pussy was already stuffed to the brim with Tara.

Your arms reached out to her, fingers gripping her shoulders all while your body shook and squirmed underneath her, "Fuck me. Fuck me so hard, please, Tara!" You begged, tears starting to trickle down your eyes while immense pleasure washed over you, your voice reverberating as she dicked you down.

Tara's half-lidded eyes locked in with yours, pure lust evident in her eyes. No longer staring at your puffy folds, her mouth hung open, grunts escaping her soft lips with every forceful thrust.

"You want this, don't you?" Her mouth poured out words with every harsh thrust she gave you. Your mind couldn't work properly, let alone form any coherent sentences other than incoherent mumbling and needy whimpers of her name. "To make me fuck you senseless with my cock until your brain couldn't think of anything other than my dick."

It was clear she knew the answer, she just needed to hear it from you.

Your breath hitched, staring at Tara as if you'd pass out by how stretched you were under her, your throat unable to form words as it was caught between pathetic gasps and moans, your walls fluttering around her dick like it was your sole purpose to be her cock-warming slut and manhandled so good by her.

You couldn't focus on anything other than Tara. Tara, Tara, Tara, oh how her cock felt so good buried inside of you, how it kept hitting your cervix with every thrust, and how it was so fucking painful yet it sent shivers down your spine that made your back arch so naturally.

"Answer me," she rasped, her hands releasing the harsh grip on your thighs that were bound to leave a mark and letting them trail up your body until they reached your throat, her fingers wrapping around it with their possessive grip, her nails slightly grazing your skin that were already adorned with hickeys. "Don't tell me you're too drunk on my cock to think of anything else."

You couldn't handle it anymore, your airways constricting with each tightening grip Tara had on your throat. "Yes!" you screamed, "I need your dick so much, so badly, Tara, my God—!" You choked out, your muscles tensing as you felt a knot forming in your stomach, your cunt clenching around her cock

"So close, so close, soclosesoclose, 'm close, Tara, f-fuck!" you whimpered, your hands reaching over her shoulders, nails clawing against her chiseled back, leaving red marks along her body that were bound to scar.

You couldn't miss the subtle wince that went across Tara's face under your harsh touch. Even if you were so damn close to cumming around her dick, the relentless slam of her hips onto your skin taking a toll on your sense of awareness, you still took notice of the muted groan of pain leaving her lips amidst the struggling grunts and low moans she breathed out. Yet you could feel the undeniable twitch from her cock buried deep inside you out of pleasure.

"Why were you flirting with her?"

Tara cocked her head to the side, her voice still raspy and her breaths were hot and heavy. The pace of her thrusts slowed as she began to give deliberate and agonizing strokes with her dick as she toyed with you, her hips slowly thrusting inside of you so excruciatingly slow to the point you'd be better off at riding her cock until your cunt spasms so hard you couldn't cum anymore.

"I wasn't…" you panted desperately, the slow and deliberate movement of Tara's hips driving you insane. "I wasn't flirting… with… oh, fuck..!" You let out a guttural moan as you felt Tara pull out, almost to her tip, and slammed her cock back in your cervix with such force.

You threw your head back, eyes rolling while your mouth hung open to deliver a loud moan that echoed throughout, your back arching in response to her plowing her length inside of you once more.

Tara continued her relentless assault, though if not slower, your hands frantically going to your face, grabbing a handful of your hair as you subtly hid your face away from hers. Biting the flesh of your arm to hide the rather embarrassing and pathetic moans you kept producing.

"Who?" She leaned down, her hot yet soft lips giving you wet kisses all along your jaw as your muffled moans filled the room and her ears, "Who, baby?" she pressed all while your muffled whimpers filled the room, her hands going to your face and pulling your arms out of way. Her voice was soft, unlike the way she fucked you into insanity, acting as if she was the most innocent girl in the room.

"I don’t know.. I don’t know!" You sobbed, actual tears running down your face as Tara kept her tormenting pace. You couldn't think of anything anymore, let alone other people who are not Tara. Sentences just flowed out of you as if Tara controlled every inch of your brain. Your cunt soaked her dick with your wetness, the knot in your stomach tightening with every thrust.

"Please," you desperately pleaded, the words escaping with more neediness than you intended it to be. "Just, oh my god, let me cum!" You cried out as your body shook under her, ready for release, but you knew she wasn't going to give you that when she pulled out, a loud wince escaping your lips.

It took all your self-control not to pull her back with such force that her cock would immediately hit your cervix and you'd rut all over her until she was satisfied with you.

"Wha... Tara what the fuck!?"

You whined as you looked down, her dick still standing proudly at 7 inches with its thick girth, resting on her stomach, still hard and erect. So why the fuck did she pull out when you could've been on the verge of having the most jaw-dropping orgasm of your life.

The knot in your stomach eased slightly as Tara grabbed a handful of your hair, her head leaning down, "Here's what we're going to do, baby," she whispered against your lips, your need to slip your tongue into hers was just a fleeting thought.

Her dick twitched over your thigh, and you knew you looked like the hottest mess Tara had ever laid her eyes on, and the knowledge that your face looked like a fucked-up, cock-drunk, slut for Tara made your pussy throb.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard against that glass window," she continued, her voice low and husky as you looked over, "until all of New York hears how you're such a pathetic and filthy whore for my dick." She raised her free hand to cup your cheeks, caressing the soft and red skin you had from sobbing your heart out. "Then you're going to thank me for letting you cum on my cock while screaming my name."

If you weren't crazy then, then you were definitely going crazy now. You looked at Tara, doe eyes and all.

"Do you hear me, y/n?" She demanded, and you dumbly nodded in response.

"Mmh, yeah, yes please," you whimpered, your voice so desperate and needy as you dropped to your knees, gazing up at Tara who was already standing up, your hands almost reaching to wrap around her cock if not for her hand slapping it away. It was unfair she was half-clothed while you looked like you got railed every second. "I'll do what you want, anything, just let me cum, Tara…"

"There's that good girl I know." Tara purred, her simple approval and praise making you wet as ever. Her hands found your shoulders, turning you around to face away from her as you obeyed her silent orders.

You gave her the best possible view of your back, a perfect arch as your head was off to the side, all while offering her a glimpse of your exposed pussy.

You could feel her hands trailing down your back as your head faced forward, your eyes dropping down to the mattress. With a firm grip, she grabbed both of your wrists, tying them together with her hand while her other arm traveled back to your shoulder.

With your hands bound behind you, Tara led you towards the window, forcefully pressing your face against the cold and hard surface, the windowpane flushed on your skin. You could see every apartment that surrounded Tara's, lights turned on and some turned off, some maybe even watching the both of you.

You wouldn't be lying if you said it turned you on so much.

Tara's body was pressed onto yours, gasping for solid air as you felt the hard length of her clock sliding against your ass, its slow movement teased every inch of your body as the pleasure shot up from your spine.

"You won't mind if I use your phone, right?" She asked while you wondered how the hell she even got your phone in the first place in this position. But you didn't mind.

You weren't above filming a little video for her, especially when it came to something like sex. In fact, you have a dedicated folder solely for those kinds of videos, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't have a video of Tara screaming your name replaying in your head over and over as you fucked yourself to it.

And so, you nodded.

Oh, how you wished you hadn't.

Or rather, you wished you didn't immediately add the girls number in your contacts so quickly.

"Fucking hell," Tara murmured to herself which didn't go unnoticed by you. As well as the sounds of Tara dialing a number onto your phone.

Glancing over your shoulders, you found Tara standing right behind you. Her hand gripped her throbbing cock, teasing your slick folds while her gaze remained fixated on the ringing phone in her other hand.

"Tara, what are you—" you began, but before you could finish your sentence, Tara shoved her cock deep inside you with a force that left you more than breathless, penetrating your pussy so good that left you gasping for air as you cried out her name.

"Oh, God! Tara—Shit, Tara!" You screamed, your head throwing back as your fingers gripped the wall, "feels s' good, f-fuck!," you cursed, a perfect arch making its way to your spine while Tara fucked your juices back inside of you.

Her cock fit perfectly inside you, almost as if it was already molded to the shape of her dick precisely. Every vein, and every twitch of her shaft inside of you felt so familiar. Her balls repeatedly slapped your clit by her relentless pace, driving you to the brink of insanity by the touch alone. Every pleasure you felt shot down onto your cunt, hot and so fucking intoxicating.

You wanted to push her away, to catch a breath and your abused folds catch a breath, yet bring her deeper into your body, wanting and craving her more and more.

It felt so good to the point you didn't notice the 'hello, y/n?' that came from your phone.

"Hold it." Tara commanded of you, her body leaning down to yours, bringing your phone closer to your ear.

You looked at her, wide-eyed. Your lips and mind tempted to moan out her name as she kept pounding her cock inside of you if not for the abrupt phone call. "Tara…" you whimpered, "Tara, I-I can't—" your voice barely audible before her hand covered your mouth, muffling your moans when she gave you a hard thrust.

The pleasure she's giving you by simply moving and her still dick filling you up send shivers down your spine, yet the voice coming from your phone won't stop talking.

You took over Tara's hand from the phone, putting it up to your ear as you spoke quietly. "Yeah—sorry, he—hey!" You stammered, attempting to even get a coherent thought over your clouded mind while Tara continued assaulting your puffy pussy, "who, oh fuck, is this?"

"I'm the girl at the party, Cady! You do remember, right?"

You don't, really. It's all a blur.

You gasped, your head turning to the side as you tried to muffle your noises as quietly as possible, "yeah, yeah, I remember. Why—why, are you calling?"

The girl on the line laughed, chuckling even, "you called me. I didn't expect getting a call so easily after that conversation."

Please stop talking, you wanted to say.

You could feel Tara's jealousy and anger through the way her hands gripped your waist, her other hand delivering a sharp slap to your ass.

"I… I probably was—I was drunk," you stuttered, struggling to find the right words as your head ducked down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call," you breathed out, biting your lip to prevent a single whimper coming out of you.

"Well, you did," she replied, her tone teasing, laughing even more, "But I'm glad you did. We can pick up where we left off, if you know what I mean," You knew there was a sultry tone to her voice, probably even winking across the phone. "Is there someone in your room? I thought I heard something crash."

Tara leaned down, her grip on your hips tighter than ever, planting wet and sloppy along your shoulders to your ear, "You wanna tell them how good I'm fucking you, baby?" She whispered huskily, innocently kissing your cheeks as if she wasn't teasing you with another person on the other line.

"Wanna tell her how fucking good it feels to have my cock buried deep inside you?" She thrusted, her arms going to your shoulders and pushing your body deeper inside of her, "Tell her how you're begging for more, how you couldn't get enough of my dick?"

You were so glad you moved the phone just an inch away.

"I, oh my God, uhm, Tara—Tara!" You screamed out, a broken moan escaping your lips, hiding it by the fact you were mentioning her name, "yeah, Tara's here. Carpenter. She's, well, joining me for a simple exercise," you managed to reply, your voice shaky.

"Didn't know you guys were close."

"Yeah, we...uh, got closer recently," you stammered while Tara continued her relentless assault on your tight cunt, her cock plunging deep inside you, "we—oh shit—she lives with me so, yeah!"

You could hear Tara laugh at the half-assed excuse, probably the most common ones in the book.

Cady laughed through the phone once more, "I didn't mean to interrupt anything by picking up the phone, did I?"

"Cady, it's… It's fine," you managed to gasp, your voice strained with pleasure as Tara's relentless thrusts kept pounding into you harder and faster if it was even possible. "Oh, fuck!" You couldn't help but moan loudly, yet accidentally, the phone still pressed to your ear, as Tara leaned down once more and took over the phone, bringing it close to her ear as she let you grip the walls with such immense tightness.

"I'm sure y/n will forget you in a matter of seconds after this," she purred, "especially when she's getting fucked so good by me." She turned the phone around, enabling video on, letting Cady see your ass bouncing along her cock, her dick disappearing deep inside you and your back arching in pure ecstasy, "I almost pity you on how you'll never feel the never-ending pleasure of her pussy clenching around you."

She hung up before a single scream shouted from the phone, throwing it on the bed, "'m gonna cum, Tara. Baby, I'm gonna cum, Shit, shit,shitshitshitshitshit!"

Your body tensed, a knot forming in your lower abdomen as you cried out her name like a prayer, begging for a desperate release of being denied just moments ago. You could feel her hands gripping your hips even tighter, her grunts and little moans escaping her lips only drove you more into an orgasm,

Your moans filled the room, mixing with Tara's own gasps and the sound of skin slapping against skin, your wetness coating her dick. "Cum on me baby," she whispered, her fingers running across your hair as she threw your head back, "don't forget to do what I said."

"Tara! Oh, fuck, that feels so good!" Your walls clenched around her cock, your body trembling while you felt Tara's own climax shoot ropes of cum deep inside of you as she held you close, her arms wrapped around you as she came, "thank you..." You murmured, crying out, "thank you, baby, fuck your cock still feels so good inside me..."

The intense grip you had on the glass faltered, your legs giving way as you collapsed against the window, your body still shaking and your pussy tightening against Tara's twitching cock while you waited for her to empty her load inside of you, her hips still bucking while she caressed your skin, leaving a trail of kisses and words of affection down your neck.

"I love you..." she whispered against your skin, "you're gorgeous," she kissed, "such a good girl, y/n."

You nodded weakly, a smile covering your lips as you slid down the glass wall as Tara gently turned you around, planting a tender kiss on your lips.

"My pretty girl," Tara called out, softness in her voice while she tucking a loose strand behind your ear and wiping the tears away, "you did so well."

Tara cupped your cheek, all too evident that you were tired and exhausted, her thumb brushing lightly against your skin as she stared into your eyes. It was all too beautiful for Tara.

You started to wrap your arms on her shoulders, pulling her close while she laughs"I'll carry you to the bathroom, mkay? I'll draw you a bath and we can cuddle there."

You were too tired out to say or think of anything, so you opted with a nod.

Tara chuckled softly in your response, scooping you up in her oddly strong arms as she carried you to the bathroom, her touch now soft and comforting instead of harsh and cruel.

You didn't think the afterparty would turn out like this, but you were grateful it did.

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

aftermath bonus:

Y: "are you still mad at me?" T: *shrug* "lost it within the three seconds we started making out" Y: "what the fuck tara?!"

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

a/n: tara is the size of two apples tall (give or take), every possible bone in her body is fractured, probably losing blood by the minute, her shoesize is probably smaller than a rats AND the girl has asthma. it almost felt wrong writing her like this. off topic but i wished tumblr had a like comment thing for people like me that for some reason is too scared and shy to reply to you guys. I REALLY APPRECIATE THE COMMENTS, TRULY!! THEY MAKE MY DAY SM BETTER

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Regret |14|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You were living in New York with your girlfriend, trying to forget about last year and just enjoy life, but that was easier said than done. (Sequel to A Legacies Secret)

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Death, Murder, Blood, Stabbing, Shooting, Blood, Killing

Word Count: 4k

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | A Legacies Secret Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14

Tara kept hold of your hand and led you around the theater. She knew they needed to focus, they were waiting for Ghostface to show up and try and kill them, but they needed a distraction. She couldn’t stop thinking about what might happen, how everyone might not make it out. So, to distract her mind she decided to focus on you. You had been through a lot recently, to say the least. That’s why Tara decided to take you away from the displays, from the reminder of what happened to Dewey.

Tara decided to go through one of the other doors, to see what was in one of the other rooms. The theater, despite all the junk and being completely run down, was actually pretty cool. If it wasn’t filled with a bunch of memorabilia from past murders and wasn’t currently being used by a psycho trying to kill them Tara could totally see herself convincing you to explore the old place.

She loved movies, mostly horror, but she really appreciated every aspect of film, it was why she was studying it. The theater had curtains, a screen, and the old school projectors still sitting out. She could only imagine what it was like to stand outside, waiting to buy tickets, and then to come inside and see the film projected.

When she pushed open the door to the other room, she couldn’t help but smile. The door led to the concession area, there was an old-style popcorn machine, with popcorn still in it. The glass display was caked in a layer of dust, but she could still see the candy bars that had definitely long since expired still sitting in there.

Tara spun around, walking backwards as she led you towards the counter. You were taking everything, at least seeming slightly curious about everything. Tara couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to go on a date with you to this theater in its prime. She wondered what she would have convinced you to see, probably whatever she wanted at the time, you never turned her movie suggestions down, even when she knew you weren’t into the movie. You probably would have bought the tickets and then taken her to this very counter where you’d pay for popcorn and drinks and where she’d most likely convince you to also get a pack of gummy worms, even though they’d be outrageously priced.

“Kind of reminds me of our first date,” Tara said, smiling at the memory.

Your lips twitched up; it was the closest thing she had seen to a smile on you in what felt like forever. “I hope our first date wasn’t this bad,” you mumbled. You dragged two of your fingers across the top of the counter and held them up, showing your fingers covered in a thick layer of dust.

“That’s not what I meant,” Tara playfully shoved your shoulder. “The date was perfect, even if you did take me to see Lion King.”

“It was the only thing playing!”

Tara chuckled at how defense you still go over the whole thing. She made the first move in kissing you, but you were the one who played the first official date. She could tell how nervous you were, there wasn’t a ton to do in Woodsboro to begin with, but you planned a nice little date at the drive-in. Tara remembered being confused when the movie started, and it was Lion King. She liked the movie, but it didn’t seem like first date material. You had quickly informed her that it was the only moving playing that night since it was meant to be family night.

The two of you still had a good time, you bought the drinks, popcorn, and even let Tara pick out a box of candy. Even though the two of you had each seen the movie a plenty of times you still sat in a comfortable silence and watched the whole thing. You drove Tara home, walked her to the door, and gave her a kiss goodnight. It had truly been a perfect night and the best first date Tara had ever been on. She never let you live it down though that the movie for your first date was The Lion King.

“A Disney classic,” you mumbled, kicking at the carpet.

Tara wrapped her arms around you as carefully as she could, making sure to be mindful of your injuries. You instantly wrapped your arms around her and let out a deep sigh, like all you needed was one of her hugs.

“Maybe we could have a date night when this is all over?” Tara mumbled from where her head was resting in the crook of your neck. “Find a drive-in around here or ask Sam for the apartment for a night and just watch Lion King.”

Your grip around her tightened. “I’d like that,” you whispered.

You whipped around, breaking the hug when someone burst through the door. Tara felt her entire body freeze but quickly relaxed when she realized it was just Chad. Your hand tightened in her own before letting out a shaky breath yourself. It probably wasn’t the best time to start reminiscing, everyone needed to keep their guard up.

“Sorry,” Chad said, his eyes darting from you to Tara, seeming to realize he had interrupted a moment.

“Any word from Mindy?” Tara asked. Even if Mindy took the next train she should have been there by now, at the very least she should have been off the subway and back to having signal to call them.

Chad shook his head. He glanced down at his phone as if he were willing it to ring. “Look out!” you said, pushing Tara back, as Ghostface came out from one of the side doors.

Chad spun around, just barely dodging Ghostface’s swing. It was three against one but the one all of you were against was holding the knife. Your grip tightened around Tara’s wrist, and you slowly maneuvered her behind you. She tried to twist her arm out of your grip, she wasn’t about to let you be a hero again.

Sam burst through the doors, smacking the door into Ghostface in the process. He stumbled forward and Chad took the opportunity to grab his arm that was holding the knife. You let go of Tara and grabbed Ghostface’s other arm. You and Chad slammed Ghostface’s back into the counter.

Before Tara could step forward and attempt to help you Sam was at her side, wrapping an arm around her to hold her back. She watched unblinking as Chad smashed Ghostface’s hand until he finally released the knife.

You used one of your hands to punch Ghostface, not caring that he was wearing a mask. Chad kept one hand on Ghostface’s arm and place the other on his shoulder to brace himself as he brought his knee up, nailing Ghostface in the ribs a few times.

The two of you tossed Ghostface to the ground, standing over him as he attempted to regain his balance only to collapse again. When he tried again Tara broke free from her sister’s grip and delivered a perfect kick to Ghostface’s face.

You pulled Tara back into your side as Chad grabbed an old glass gumball machine that was sitting on the counter. Just as Chad raised it above his head, reading to drop it and smash Ghostface’s skull in another Ghostface came from out nowhere, stabbing their knife into Chad’s side.

Chad stumbled forward, blood already dribbling out of his mouth as he dropped the gumball machine, the glass shattering at his feet.

“No!” Tara tried to launch herself forward, but you wrapped an arm around her keeping her at bay.

As Chad collapsed the first Ghostface had recovered and gripped Chad one of his arms while the other Ghostface gripped the other. They held Chad in place, keeping him on his knees, both of them looking up, seeming to stare directly into Tara’s eyes before they began repeatedly stabbing him.

Chad opened his mouth, but no words came out, just more blood. He kept attempting to speak. Go he was finally able to mouth. Tara shook her head, tears had already begun streaming down her face, she couldn’t just turn her back as one of her friends was killed. Despite the fear in his eyes Chad nodded, trying to tell her it was okay, but it wasn’t okay, none of it was okay.

Tara didn’t seem to have a choice though because both you and Sam hauled her away. The two of you were still dragging her through one of the various doors as the two Ghostface let Chad’s body flop to the floor without a care. They simultaneously turned and wiped the blood off their knives before taking off after the.

Tara finally stopped fighting and took off at a full sprint. You somehow made sure to put yourself behind Tara, so she was between you and Sam. The three of you ran down corridor after corridor, not having any real idea where you were going, but never slowing down. The three of you ran into the wall a few times as you took the turn too fast. Tara never bothered looking back, she knew you were right there, she didn’t want to know how close Ghostface was though.

Finally, Sam burst through a door that led them back out into the main room where the shrine was. They followed Sam’s lead but as she ran towards the stage one of the Ghostface jumped in front of them, blocking their path. Tara whipped around, but was quickly pushed behind you again when the other Ghostface appeared, blocking them in. She was stuck between two Ghostface and the only thing separating her from them was you and Sam, both of you would die before letting either of them get their hands on her.

Tara whipped her head back and forth; she wasn’t sure who to pay attention to. Each Ghostface seemed to step closer at the same time, making their already tiny window even smaller. The one in front of you waved their knife back and forth, clearly enjoying the upper hand they had.

Three shots rang out and Tara was instantly being pushed down, her head covered by either you or Sam she wasn’t sure. When the firing ended, she slowly lifted her head to see Kirby with her gun drawn and blood streaming down the side of her face from a large gash. The Ghostface had seemed to scatter, though not knowing where they were hardly seemed like a good thing.

“Stay back!” Sam demanded, pointing a bloody knife at Kirby. “We know it’s you!”

“No,” Kirby said, shaking her head. “Someone knocked me out.”

“Get away from them!” Someone ordered, making everyone whip around to see detective Bailey with his gun drawn, aimed at Kirby, and making his way towards them.

Tara furrowed her brow; she thought they locked the door. Kirby said there was only one way in or out. The plan was for Ghostface to enter and be trapped, no one should have been able to get in without them knowing. There were two Ghostface that clearly weren’t trapped, that meant they were either already in the theater and had been waiting, somehow knowing the plan, or there was another way in. None of that explained how detective Bailey got in without them knowing though, they should have had to let him in, Kirby had been the only one with the keycard to unlock the door.

“Look out!” Kirby tried to warn as Ghostface ran up behind detective Bailey. Tara’s eyes widened, she could practically see it playing out in front of her, Ghostface stabbing Bailey, gutting him and leaving him for dead.

Bailey fire a singular shot, though, hitting Kirby right in the gut. She stumbled forward, the clear confusion on her face before she collapsed. The Ghostface that had been charging at Bailey slowed down until they came to a stop at his side. The other Ghostface appeared from where every scurried off to and stepped into place on the other side of Bailey.

“You?” Tara whispered in disbelief.

Bailey let out a dark chuckle. “Me,” he said, shrugging as if he wasn’t behind all of this. “Frankly, I expected more from the three of you. Well…” he bobbed his head back and forth. “Two of you, you,” he pointed his finger at you. You stepped forward, blocking Tara from their view, she saw the hard set of your jaw, and had never seen such a fire in your eyes. “More irritating than expected. Should have known better given who your parents are.”

Your fingers twitched at your side. Tara reached out and took your hand in her own partly for comfort, but also to keep you from doing something stupid like charging headfirst at three serial killers. “But I guess this is really a family affair at the end of the day,” Bailey sighed.

“Speaking of family,” the Ghostface to the right of Bailey said. Tara furrowed her brow, the voice sounded familiar. The Ghostface lifted his mask, revealing Ethan underneath. “My name isn’t Ethan Landry,” he gave a sadistic smile. “Isn’t that right dad?”

“Dad?” Tara asked, her eyes widening in disbelief.

She started replaying every interaction she had with Bailey and Ethan, separately and together. They never once even hinted at knowing each other let alone being related. Bailey only ever really interacted with Quinn. Quinn. Tara’s eyes widened, Quinn sometimes picked on Ethan like a little brother, but they acted like strangers. Tara remembered the first time Chad brought Ethan over to the apartment and introduced him to everyone. None of it was adding up, if Bailey and Ethan were related, that met Ethan and Quinn were related, but then why would Ghostface kill Quinn.

“And that leaves…” Bailey trailed off, looking to the only Ghostface still wearing a mask.

Tara held her breath as the second Ghostface lifted their mask, their hair falling around their shoulders before fully revealing Quinn herself. Tara’s breath caught in her throat. “But we saw you die,” she couldn’t help but say. It simultaneously made the most sense and didn’t make any sense, Tara was trying her best to wrack her brain around it all.

“But I didn’t,” Quinn said in a tone that made it seem like Tara and the others should feel stupid for even believing such a thing. “It was a good way to get off the suspect list though. Stab Gale Weathers.” She had the audacity to send a smirk your way, Tara felt your hand jerk, but you stayed in place right by her side. “Stab Mindy on the train.” Tara sucked in a breath, she knew Mindy should have been there by now.

“Just had to make sure I was first on the scene,” Bailey said. “Switch out the bodies, some fake blood, no one questions a grieving father.” Ethan took the right side while Quinn circled around the right, slowly beginning to box them in again.

“So, what is this?” you asked. “Some weird fucked up family bonding ritual?” Tara’s gripped tightened around you, pissing off the people who had the upper hand was hardly the best idea.

Bailey chuckled as if he knew something the three of you didn’t. “Guess you could say that,” he said. “It really all goes back to family, doesn’t it? Like how you’re a killer,” he pointed past you, past Tara, directly at Sam. “Just like your father.”

Sam shook your head. “No, I’m not!” she snapped.

“Yes, yes you are!” Quinn snapped, waving her knife around at them. “You killed our brother!”

Tara scrunched her eyebrows. “You said your brother died in a car accident,” she said. She shouldn’t be surprised that was most likely a lie. She wasn’t sure why they’d make that up to begin with though, Quinn and Bailey, both mentioned it a couple times but never went into details, it always seemed like it was too painful for them to talk about, but maybe they were just that good at acting.

“No, no,” Ethan said. “He died in Woodsboro. At the hands of your bitch sister.”

Tara furrowed her brow; she looked at Sam whose eyes suddenly widen in realization. “You’re Richie’s family,” Sam said. Tara’s eyes widened, she looked around, taking everything in in a new light, it all made sense now, they were a family full of psychos.

Bailey actually teared up as he nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “When I saw what you did to him,” he snarled. “I knew you had to die. You all had to die!”

“Once we’re finished up here,” Quinn said. “We’ll make sure to circle back around to the hospital, end Gale Weathers once in for all,” she smirked.

Tara wasn’t able to hold you back this time as you lunged at Quinn, knocking one of the displays over in the process. It was enough of a distraction for Sam to knock the gun away from Bailey and grab Tara before Ethan could attack. Tara could see you on the ground, not holding back as you relentless punched Quinn.

They kept low, crawling across the floor as they stumbled upon Kirby who was somehow still alive. Sam gently took the gun from Kirby’s hands, that would definitely help even the playing field, at least a little bit. Tara still didn’t like that neither you nor her had any weapon. “We need to get out of here,” Sam mumbled.

Tara looked around, not wanting to take her eyes off of you for too long. “There!” she pointed to an exit sign at the top of the balcony. It would be hell of an obstacle getting to it and she didn’t know if they could even actually exit out of that door, but it seemed like their only option.

“Watch out!” Tara warned when she caught Ethan moving out of the side of her eye.

You whipped around, your eye’s widening as Ethan charged at you, his knife raised. Everything seemed to slow down, Tara could only stand there and watch. There was the sound a gun shot, your body jerked back, then you collapsed.

Tara didn’t even hear the scream that left her, she just felt the raw ache in her throat. She wasn’t even aware of Sam dragging her away. She tried to fight to get to you, to see if you were still alive, but she was only getting further away from you.

Sam spun her around and gripped her firmly by her arms. “I need you to focus,” Sam said. Tara was sobbing and gasping for breath, she shook her head, she couldn’t focus on anything, only you. “Focus!” Tara nodded; she could only make out the shape of her sister through her blurry vision. “This is what they would want.”

Tara shook her head a few more times. But Sam was right, this is what you’d want. You did everything to protect Tara, you always had. She couldn’t just give up, she needed to keep fighting, it’s what you would have wanted.

Her vision started to clear, and she gave Sam a firm nod. Sam raised Kirby’s gun and started firing, forcing the others to take cover as she dragged Tara towards the ladder. Sam went up first and Tara was quick to follow. She glanced down, noticing Quinn was gone but you were still lying there unmoving. She gripped the ladder tighter, pressing her forehead against the cool metal, she needed to keep moving, it’s what you would want.

As they got to the top Sam climbed over the railing, but Tara slipped, barely managing to catch herself before she fell. Sam tucked the gun in her jeans as she reached for Tara, trying to pull her back up. She looked down where Ethan was now waiting, jumping up and down and swinging his knife, trying to swipe at her legs. Tara’s eyes snapped to the left when she heard movement only to see Quinn had made it up there and was now approaching them.

“Let go,” Tara said. Sam shook her head. “You need to let me go.” Tara glanced down at the knife tucked in Sam’s belt. If Sam didn’t let her go neither of them would make it out, it was the only way.

Sam reluctantly nodded and handed the knife over to Tara. Below her Ethan’s smile only widened as Quinn drew closer. If Quinn got to Sam, Sam would drop Tara, and Ethan would have her all to himself. It was a risk, but they needed to get the upper hand, they needed to do something neither Quinn nor Ethan would expect.

Tara tried to prepare herself as Sam released her. Tara landed right in front of Ethan and as expected he was ready for her, stabbing her in the gut before her feet fully had time to hit the ground. Tara gasped at the pain but raised the knife Sam had handed her and shoved it into Ethan’s mouth, pushing him back and giving it a sickening twist as he gargled and choked on his own blood.

She snapped her attention back to the balcony when she heard a gun fire and couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief when she saw Sam still standing and Quinn’s body lying on the floor. She could only watch though as Bailey got up there and attacked Sam. They fought until they both went over the railing, sending them crashing into the display cases below.

She rushed to her sister’s side, her heart nearly stopping at seeing Sam lying there on the broken wood and glass. She finally released a breath when Sam rolled over with a groan, but Bailey recovered first. He stumbled as he pulled himself back up, but his gun was instantly trained on Tara. He tried blinking away the blood as it dripped into his eye, but his hand remained steady. Tara could only stand there; this was how she was going to die.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a blur and then someone tackle Bailey, the gun clattering to the floor. Bailey rolled around, pushing himself off the person, then giving them a hard kick in the chest. Tara’s eyes widened when she saw you sprawled out on the floor, covered in blood and gasping for breath but still breathing.

Bailey crawled around, looking for his gun. Tara managed to get to the gun first, making sure to kick it away. He grabbed Tara’s pant leg, as if he were trying to claw his way back up or drag her down to his level. Tara gave him a swift kick to the face, she didn’t even wait for him to collapse, as soon as he released his grip on her she rushed to your side, dropping down next to you.

She pressed a hand to the gunshot wound on your shoulder, ignoring your groan of protest as she put more pressure on it. She looked up when Bailey pulled himself back up to his knees. He didn’t last long though as Sam had recovered and didn’t waste any time before plunging the knife Tara had used on Ethan through Bailey’s eye. Sam gave Bailey’s body one final push before dropping down next to Tara.

Tara turned her attention back to you, trying to keep from sobbing again. History sure had a way of repeating itself, you were shot and bleeding out in her arms again. Your head slumped to the side as you stared up at Tara, but it didn’t seem like you were really seeing her.

“Stay with me,” Tara sobbed. “Stay with me.” You tiredly nodded as if you could hear her. “Stay awake,” Tara said louder. You tried to nod again but your head lulled to the side as you lost consciousness.

Taglist: @mamas-evil-hag @thatshyboy1998 @btay3115 @idontliketoread2137 @nwestra

@honorarysimp @canyonyodeler @chxrryxcx @aceofspades190 @worstendingever

@riyaexee @gayandfairycore @jennasbbg @screechcat

[just-zy]

World Star

pairing: Jenna Ortega x FemReader!

summary: Fame, that's something you're sure of that you want. Something too gruesome that everyone who was bound to feel it was doomed to fall.

A/N: couldn't sleep at likee, 1-2am just a night ago so i was literally js jittering words in my head then boom, ion rlly know if ts even makes sense anymore, it's all up to ur imagination, (pov y/nn), and uhh yeah sorry ab the inactivity, ive been wayy too stuck on writers block.

Warnings!: ton of shi mentions of hell and worldstar lmao, curse words.. lemme know what else to put up as warnings!

Masterlist

Things weren't always going to stay the same, it wasn't always rainbows and sunshine. It was something more realistic than what people intended it was, the stories and fairy tales those children dreamt of that were too vague now as adolescents. Now that they've grown rebellious, hormonal, curious, experimental and too insecure.

How naive youthful teens have a tendency to think too little with how the world works its way into a macabre.

That was what you were, pure and gullible.

"Get out of my way, Y/L/N."

"Jenna? Wha- what's all this..?"

When things just don't get your way, the path you created, the path you thought people would appreciate, crumbles with you tremendously. The bitter taste of defeat lies dead on the tip of your tongue, when you thought you'd finally, finally be known enough to be acknowledged? Now you were.

"Isn't this what you wanted? To standout?"

"Jenna. You don't have to do this—!"

"I've dreamt of this way too long! It just so happened that you got in the way."

The tormenting whispers were ringing too much in your eardrums, clutching your ears tight as it all began to sound deafening that you pondered if your ears were bleeding to death.

The trust and faith that was destined to break, like it was carved in stone and written in stars.

"What now? Worldstar?"

Huh. A goal I set to achieve, a dream too loose to reach, and a future too hazy to be seen. What a world we live in.

...

“Worldstar Jenna Ortega and Y/N Y/L/N claimed by the fans to be secretly dating?”

A world I didn't want to keep on living in.

"I've always, and will always hate your guts, Y/L/N."

"The feeling is incredibly mutual, Ortega."

Hate. A deep word with such significance that can ruin lives to the extent of homicide. How can one hate when all that's truly inside is envy? A profound emotion that was bound to be ignited when individuals clash that they hadn't known led to conflicts that can't be mended once more.

"What the hell is your problem, Ortega?!"

"Goddamn it. I love you! I always have!"

Like a sharp upper cut you don't expect, the sting and sensation that leaves you senseless, where one wishes to go completely numb and nonverbal, nothing felt real, nor did the girl she had received nothing but woe. She had to pay.

You were just settling the score, not an ounce of guilt gnawed its way into your veins, cells that denied to be played once again, the heart that began clawing its way out in silent rage, blood for blood, hellfire and vengeance.

"You fucking used me for fame?! You absolute fiend. Fuck you—!"

"Pack it up, Ortega. Did you really think I'd fall for someone that gave me nothing but hell? I've only got to taste sweet revenge, baby. We'll burn together in the depths hell. Just like what you've dreamt of."

All in one. All in you.

Jenna Ortega, stay sharp.

A/N: yeah, see y'all on the next one..?

[paxtito]

make a mess, lioness

PAIRING - tara x g!p!reader (req) | WC - 3k

WARNINGS - smut. some oral sex (r receiving), orgasm denial, p in v, tara is a power bottom

A/N - i stayed up until 5am to finish this ☹️ questioning my life choices— but at least finished it before friday. yay.

You’re trying so damn hard to focus on the game, but Tara isn’t making it easy.

Her fingers brush over your thigh, light and teasing, barely there. “You always get this tense when I touch you?” she muses, her voice dipped in amusement.

You clear your throat, eyes fixed on the screen. “I’m trying to concentrate, Tara.”

“Uh-huh.” She doesn’t sound convinced. Instead, she shifts closer, pressing against your side, her breath warm against your neck. “You’re really bad at pretending this isn’t getting to you.”

Your grip on the Switch tightens. “You’re annoying.”

Tara just hums, sliding her hand up a little higher. “And yet… here you are, rock solid.”

You nearly choke. “Tara.”

She grins, smug as hell. “Yes?”

Before you can even think of a response, the bedroom door swings open.

“Jesus Christ—” Sam’s voice fills the room. “Do you two ever stop?”

Tara doesn’t move an inch. She just tilts her head, throwing her sister a look that’s far too innocent. “We’re literally just sitting here.”

Sam’s eyes narrow. “Yeah, right.”

You quickly hit pause, setting the Switch aside. Because let’s be real—Tara isn’t stopping anytime soon.

As soon as Sam walks out, you turn to Tara with a deadpan look. “For the record, I’m not even rock solid.”

Tara barely holds back a laugh, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh?” She leans in closer, fingers dancing up your arm. “Rock soft, then?”

You sigh. “Flaccid as hell.”

She snorts, finally breaking into laughter. “Damn. That bad, huh?”

“Tragic, really.” You shake your head, feigning disappointment. “You should work on your technique.”

Tara gasps, shoving you playfully. “Excuse me?”

You grin, picking your Switch back up. “Just saying.”

Tara huffs, crossing her arms. “Alright. Challenge accepted.”

You try to keep your focus on the game, but Tara isn't having it. In one smooth motion, she pulls the Switch right out of your hands and tosses it onto the bed. Before you can even protest, she's straddling your lap, knees bracketing your thighs, hands coming up to rest on your shoulders.

"I think you're distracted enough," she declares, a wicked grin spreading across her face. Her eyes are dark, almost black in the dim light of the TV, and her cheeks are flushed a soft pink.

"Tara..." you warn, but your voice comes out softer than intended. Your hands come up to rest on her waist, thumbs brushing the bare skin beneath her tank top. She's so warm, so soft.

Tara leans in closer, until her forehead is resting against yours, until you can feel the whisper of her breath against your lips. "What are you afraid of?" she murmurs, her voice low and teasing. "That I might actually make you feel something?" Her fingers dance along your collarbone, tracing the line of your jaw, the curve of your ear.

You swallow hard, trying to ignore the way your heart is pounding against your ribs, the way your skin feels too tight and too hot. "I'm not afraid of anything," you say, but it sounds like a lie, even to your own ears.

Tara just smiles, a slow curve of her lips that's somehow both innocent and wicked all at once. "Good," she whispers, and then she's pressing her mouth to yours, and you can't think of anything at all.

Tara grins against your lips, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. She nips at your bottom lip, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to send a jolt of electricity through you. Her fingers tangle in your hair, nails scraping lightly against your scalp as she tilts your head back, deepening the kiss.

She takes her time, exploring your mouth like she's trying to memorize every inch of it. Her tongue traces the curve of your lips, the hard edge of your teeth, the soft cushion of your tongue.

When she finally pulls back, you're both breathing a little harder, your chests heaving against each other. She leans in close, her lips brushing your ear as she whispers, "I can feel how much you want this, how much you want me. Don't try to deny it."

Her hand drifts down your chest, fingers splaying over your stomach, your ribs. She traces the lines of your muscles, the dips and curves of your body. Her touch is electric, setting your skin ablaze, making you ache for more.

"But I want to hear you say it," she murmurs, her voice a low purr in your ear. "I want to hear you beg for it, beg for me."

She rocks her hips against yours, a slow, deliberate grind that has you gritting your teeth, your fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs. She's not even trying to hide how much she wants this, how much she wants you. And fuck, the way she's looking at you, like she wants to devour you whole... it's enough to make you forget your own name.

Tara grins wickedly as she feels you start to respond, your growing hardness pressing insistently against her core. She grinds down harder, relishing the way you gasp and tense beneath her. "There it is," she purrs, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "I knew you couldn't resist forever."

She leans back slightly, looking down at you with a smug, triumphant smile. Her fingers dance along your chest, toying with the hem of your shirt. "Come on, baby," she coaxes, her voice a low, teasing lilt. "Don't be shy. I want to hear that pretty mouth of yours begging for what it needs."

You try to hold out, to maintain some semblance of control, but Tara isn't making it easy. She rolls her hips in slow, deliberate circles, grinding down on your now fully hardened length. It's almost too much, the way she's touching you, teasing you, pushing you to the brink of desperation.

"Please..." you hear yourself whimper, hating the neediness in your own voice but unable to stop yourself. "Please, Tara..."

She hums, a sound of pure satisfaction, as she leans in closer. "Please what, baby?" she murmurs, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Tell me what you need. I want to hear you say it."

"Please, Tara..." you breathe out, your voice strained with need. "I need you. I need you so fucking much. Please, touch me... taste me... anything. Just please, don't make me wait anymore." The words spill out of you in a desperate rush, all thoughts of holding back forgotten. You're completely at her mercy now, ready and willing to beg for whatever she wants to give you.

As Tara moves off of you, you feel a pang of disappointment, of loss at the absence of her warmth and weight in your lap. But that feeling quickly turns to awe and desire as she starts to undress.

She pulls her tank top up and over her head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. She's not wearing a bra underneath, and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of her bare breasts. They're perfect, and you can't look away as she reaches for the button of her shorts.

Slowly, teasingly, she pops the button and drags the zipper down, revealing a sliver of skin inch by tantalizing inch. She hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts and her panties, and with a wicked little grin thrown your way, she tugs them down and steps out of them, leaving her completely bare.

Your mouth goes dry, your heart pounding against your ribs as you take in every inch of exposed skin, every curve and line of her body. She's stunning, a work of art, and the sight of her standing there, unashamed and unapologetic in her nudity, makes your cock throb almost painfully against the confines of your jeans.

As Tara crawls back onto the bed, your pulse races. She kneels between your spread legs, her bare skin brushing against your jeans-clad thighs, sending sparks of electricity shooting up your spine. Your breath catches as she reaches for your fly, her fingers undoing the button and dragging down the zipper with a low, deliberate hiss.

She doesn't say a word, but her eyes speak volumes as they meet yours, dark and smoldering with lust. She hooks her fingers into the waistband of your jeans and your boxers, and you lift your hips instinctively, allowing her to tug them down and off. The cool air hits your heated skin, and you hiss at the contrast, your cock springing free, hard and aching and already leaking at the tip.

Tara wraps her hand around the base of your shaft, stroking it once, twice, before slapping the swollen head against her tongue, smearing the bead of precum that's already leaked from the tip. The sensation is electric, sending a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine, and you can't help but groan at the feeling of her wet, warm muscle against you.

She holds your gaze as she does it again, and then again, each slap of your cock against her tongue sending waves of heat coursing through you. She's looking at you with pure, unadulterated desire, her eyes hooded and dark, her cheeks flushed a deep, rosy pink. She's enjoying this, enjoying the power she has over you, the way she can reduce you to a needy, desperate mess with just a touch and a look.

She parts her lips, her tongue darting out to lick a slow, teasing stripe up the underside of your shaft, from base to tip. She swirls her tongue around the head, lapping up the precum that's leaking steadily now, before taking you into her mouth, just the tip at first, her lips sealing around you like a tight, wet heat. 

She suckles gently, her cheeks hollowing as she takes you deeper, inch by inch, until you feel the head of your cock hitting the back of her throat. She holds you there for a moment, her throat constricting around you, before pulling back and starting all over again, driving you closer and closer to the edge with every second.

Tara takes you deep, her nose pressing against your pelvis as she swallows around your length, her throat a tight, rippling heat. She holds you there, keeping you suspended on the brink of ecstasy, refusing to let you tip over the edge. 

After long, agonizing moments, she pulls back, releasing your cock with a lewd pop. Before you can catch your breath, she's crawling up your body, straddling your hips, and grinding her bare, slick folds against your shaft.

“God….”

"Don't you dare come until I do," she warns, her voice a low, breathless rasp. She rocks against you, coating your length in her arousal, using it to slide herself along your cock with shameless abandon. "I want to feel you throbbing inside me when I let go. I want you to fill me up, baby. Can you do that for me?"

Tara moves off of you abruptly, leaving your aching cock throbbing and bare, slick with her saliva and arousal. Before you can protest the sudden loss of contact, she flips onto her back on the bed, spreading her legs wide. She's glistening, swollen and ready, her pink folds just begging to be filled. Tara crooks a finger at you, a wicked grin playing on her kiss-swollen lips.

"Come here," she purrs, her voice dripping with lust. "Fill me up like you promised, baby." She reaches down to spread herself open with her fingers, revealing the tight, clenching entrance of her pussy. "Hurry up and give it to me."

You move over Tara with a whimper that turns into a low, almost feral growl as you settle between her spread thighs. You line yourself up with her entrance, the head of your cock nudging against her slick, swollen folds, and with one hard thrust, you bury yourself inside her to the hilt.

Tara lets out a small cry, her back arching off the bed as you fill her completely. She's so tight, so hot and slick and perfect, her walls clenching down around you like some sort of trap. You have to grit your teeth and dig your fingers into the sheets to keep from coming right then and there.

"Fuck, yes," Tara hisses, her nails raking down your back, leaving red lines in their wake.

Tara's hands move to your ass, gripping the firm globes tightly as she guides your movements. She urges you on, pulling you harder and deeper into her with each powerful thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixing with both you and Tara's moans.

"Yes, just like that," she pants, her hips rolling to meet yours, taking you impossibly deep. "Harder, baby. Fuck me harder." Her nails dig into your ass, no doubt leaving crescent-shaped indents in your skin, marking you as hers.

You comply, pouring all of your pent-up desire and lust into each forceful, driving thrust. The bed creaks and shakes beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall as you lose yourself in the heat and tightness of Tara's body. She's like a drug, and you're addicted, craving more and more of her with each passing second.

After a while, you feel your release approaching, your hips starting to move erratically as you near the edge. A desperate whine escapes your lips, your fingers scrabbling at the sheets as you try to hold back, to delay the inevitable.

"Please..." you beg, your voice strained and high-pitched. "Tara, I can't... I'm going to..."

"No," she snaps, cutting off your pleas. She squeezes her legs around your waist, holding you deep inside her as she grinds her hips against yours, chasing her own pleasure. "Not until I do. Don't you dare come before me."

She's ruthless, focused solely on her own climax, using your body to bring herself closer and closer to the brink. Her walls flutter and clench around you, and you know she's getting close, but she refuses to let you find your own release until she's satisfied.

You grit your teeth, trying desperately to hold back, to keep yourself from falling over the edge. Your hips jerk and stutter, your thrusts becoming sloppy and uneven as you fight to keep control. Lewd, choked sounds spill from your throat - whimpers, whines, and groans as you struggle to do as Tara demands.

"Please..." you pant, sweat dripping down your face and back as you continue to move over her. "Tara, I can't... I'm trying... but you feel so good..."

She just shakes her head, her eyes squeezing shut as she loses herself in the sensation of your body against hers, your length stirring her insides. She's close, so close.

"Touch me," Tara demands, her voice urgent and breathless. "Rub my clit, baby. Make me come."

She reaches down and pulls your hand up between her legs, pressing your fingers against her swollen, throbbing clit. It's slick and hot, and slick with her arousal. She rubs your fingers against it in tight, quick circles, her hips bucking up into your touch.

"Don't stop," she pants, her eyes squeezing shut as she grinds herself against your hand, against your still-throbbing cock buried deep inside her. "Keep going, just like that. Fuck, I'm so close..."

"Please, Tara," you beg, your voice cracking with desperation. Your hips jerk and stutter, your length pulsing and throbbing inside her as you struggle to hold back your impending release. "Please, I need to come. I can't... I can't hold back anymore."

Tara just shakes her head, gritting her teeth as she grinds herself against your hand, chasing her own pleasure. "Not yet," she grits out, her voice strained. "Don't you dare come until I do. I'm so fucking close, baby. Just a little more, please..."

With a sharp cry, Tara's body goes rigid, her back arching off the bed as her climax crashes over her. Her inner walls clench down around you like a vice, rippling and pulsing as wave after wave of pleasure consumes her.

"Fuck, yes!" she groans, her fingers digging into your wrist, holding your hand firmly against her spasming sex. Her hips jerk and shudder, grinding herself against you, prolonging her intense orgasm.

"Come," Tara demands breathlessly, her voice ringing in your ears as she rides out the aftershocks of her intense climax. "Come inside me, baby. Now."

With Tara's permission and the feeling of her still fluttering walls, you finally let go. Your hips jerk forward one last time as your orgasm overtakes you, your length pulsing and throbbing as you empty yourself deep inside her. You groan long and low, your body shaking with the force of your release.

"Fuck, Tara!" you grunt, your vision going white as sparks of pleasure burst behind your eyelids. Your cock twitches and jerks inside her as you fill her up, just like she demanded, your hot seed painting her walls.

You collapse on top of Tara, both of you panting and trembling in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking. Your softening length remains nestled inside her, plugging her up, as the last spurts of your release dribble out. Tara wraps her arms around you, holding you close, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your sweat-slicked back.

"That was... incredible," she murmurs, her voice still breathless and sated. She tilts her head up to press a soft, languid kiss to your jaw. "You did so good, baby. I'm so proud of you for holding out until I was ready."

After a few moments of basking in the afterglow, you carefully pull out of Tara, both of you wincing slightly at the sensation. You collapse onto the bed next to her, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Tara rolls onto her side, curling up against you, her head pillowed on your chest.

You reach for your Switch, picking it up and turning it back on. The game loads, the characters frozen on the screen in the exact moment Tara interrupted your gaming session. You glance down at her, taking in her satisfied, contented smile and the flush still dusting her cheeks.

Tara looks up at you curiously as you fiddle with the Switch. "What are you doing, baby?" she asks, propping herself up on her elbow to get a better look.

"Just... getting back to the game," you mumble, pressing buttons and navigating menus. "I don't want to lose all my progress."

Tara rolls her eyes but can't help grinning. "Seriously? We just had mind-blowing sex and you're worried about some stupid game?"

“Mhm.”

[elcvatedhorror]

“ please, please, please let me get what i want „

|Summary: Sam had grounded Tara for weeks because of you. Because of this, Tara has been needing missing you.

|Warnings: (Reader G!P) smut, praising kink, p in v

| (Also, this is heavily inspired by user tonyspank I absolutely adore their work!! |

It had been 3:30 when Tara texted you. You two were apart for weeks. You’d been missing Tara a whole bunch, but you being you, you respected her sisters wishes on you not seeing Tara for weeks.

You hadn’t done anything too bad to set Sam off. Ok - maybe you did, but that was besides the point. In all honesty, you thought Sam was just being a big hater of you and Tara’s relationship.

Sure, she had Danny, but they weren’t the ideal couple. You figured she was just dating him to date him. It didn’t seem like she was loving him like he loved her.

Crazy, I know.

But it was okay, because it didn’t stop you and Tara from texting 24/7, and fuck you loved it.

You would do anything for Tara. Her friends often teased you about it, too. You’d follow her around like a lost puppy, and every time she asked for something you wouldn’t even think twice before getting it for her. You’d always be bunched up behind her with your arms around her waist.

It was cute, but hell it was sickening. It was a pretty bad habit of yours. But you didn’t know that.

3:30

Tara🩼 - y/n. come over. now.

Y/N🏃🏽‍♀️ - now? what about sam?

Tara🩼 - She’s not here she’s

out with Danny doing whatever

Tara🩼 - please

The next text was something you weren’t expecting the slightest.

Tara🩼- I need you.

You sat there in your bed with a shocked expression. Tara had never texted you something like this but you sure as hell weren’t complaining.

You hurried up and got out of bed almost tripping over your own feet and put on a nice clean shirt and some grey sweatpants, slipped on your shoes and hurried out of the door.

It wasn’t too long before you got to Tara’s dorm. You didn’t even get to do your additional signature three timed knock before Tara pulled you inside and kissed you hard.

You two hurried to her room and shut the door behind.

Tara’s hands found themselves under your shirt, caressing your stomach. Her doing that sent shivers up your spine.

Both of your tongues exploring each others mouths, the kissing was very heated, and it didn’t stop you from getting turned on.

Tara suddenly stopped and looked in your eyes.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” She said, pushing you onto the bed.

“I’m gonna take all the time I need with you today, Y/N.”

You gulped.

She’s never been like this before.

You were scared.

But it was hot.

She took her shirt off revealing her lacy bra, as well as pulling her pants off showing you the match.

Oh my god. She’s wearing a matching set. You thought.

She slowly walked over to you, her eyes never leaving yours, as she kneeled in front of you newly spread legs, and untied the string on your sweatpants, pulling your pants down slowly, your erection in your boxers standing up. Painfully you squirmed.

Tara chuckled at you, pulling your boxers down in the process, your dick slapping against your stomach with a small sound.

She grabbed your cock, and spit on the tip, creating a bit of lube as she starting stroking slowly, teasing you.

You sighed at her touch. Though she was going slow, you still felt ecstasy.

"F-fuck Tara please." You whined.

"Please what?" She asked, stroking your cock more, rubbing the tip in the mist of it.

"Faster. Please. Fuck - just go faster."

She nodded, and started going faster, pumping you at a great speed. You weren't sure if you could handle it, but you weren't complaining. And soon enough, you came, moaning loudly, you bit your lips trying not to create much noise.

"I'm not done with you yet." Tara said, standing up, taking her panties off, and chucking them god knows where.

You were panting, as she kissed you again, her tongue exploring your mouth, and she then moved on to your neck, sucking and licking eagerly at it.

You were eager for more, but scared of what she was gonna do in this state.

You were embarrassed at yourself for that one.

But fuck, at this point it didn't matter.

You pushed her on her back so you were now the one on top and you wrapped your right hand around her neck and kissed her roughly.

She gasped at the new action, but didn't care nonetheless. You started moving lower, and lower till you got to her thighs. You carefully pushed them open, and found the sight you were eager to see.

Your lips found themself on her clit, and you started sucking and licking, as her moans got louder and louder. Her hands found your hair and entangled her fingers in them, moaning your name.

"Y/N!!" She whined. "Right there! Yes!..."

You took your index finger and put it inside of her hole, curling it, and pumping in and out at a fast rate, without giving her time to react.

She was feeling so much at once, and tears were coming out of her eyes in pleasure.

"O-Oh! I'm close! Y/N, i'm close, fuck!" She moaned out.

You took your finger out of her, and your mouth departed from her clit.

She looked at you weirdly, and before she was able to protest you grabbed ahold of your cock and started to pump your self before filling her up.

You slowly pushed her in, moaning at the feeling.

"Tara you're so tight baby, shit." You panted out.

You started going faster, her nails scratching at your back. You lowered your head into her neck.

"You're doing so good f'me, baby. Pretty girl, taking my cock." You praised her.

You lifted your head and grasped at her hips pushing deeper and deeper into her cunt. You could feel the spongy spot brush your tip as you went.

Your left hand pushed down on her stomach, doing that made her whine even more.

"I'm close Y/N! Please.." She sighed out.

"Please what?"

"Please let me cum."

You nodded, and kept your pace, as she came. She clenched around your cock, and that alone was just enough to make you come undone as well.

"Ahhh.. fuck." Your cock twitched inside of her as you came. Your cum filling her up to the max. Your hand left her stomach, a small bump had formed in the process.

As you pulled out, hers and your cum slowly leaked out of her aching hole.

"You did so well for me baby." You told her.

"Mmmh I was supposed to be the one in control today." She whined.

You chuckled. "Maybe next time, pretty girl. You want me to run a bath for you-" Your sentence was interrupted by a door opening.

It was Sam. A horrified expression on her face.

“What. The. Hell?!”

hope u enjoyed lol

not proofread :P

[spiderb00bs]

- REACH ME

Tara Carpenter x reader 

“Maybe Tara wanted to be more than your friend” 

Genre – smut    Warnings – mentions distant parents 

(request) 

Now playing – What You Need, by The Weeknd

Tara Carpenter was never very open about how she felt. She struggled with her emotions, most of the time keeping everything to herself until she couldn't take it anymore and exploded. She knew it was a bad thing to do, something that would only harm herself, but she still couldn't act any other way.   

Any feeling, anger, sadness, sometimes even happiness, Tara kept inside her, even if her heart was on the verge of exploding. Even though Tara had been doing this since she was practically a child, she still couldn't hide certain feelings from her friends. Which meant that everyone knew about Tara's huge crush on you.   

You and Tara were complicated to say the least, always flirting with each other, holding hands around the campus, kissing at some frat parties, you've certainly lost potential people who were interested in the two of you because they thought you and Tara were dating. All this just so that at the end of the day, you and Tara could raise the flag of friendship and make everyone around you want to kick your asses.  

Your friends had had enough. Holy shit! Sam had had enough. All they wanted most was to see you finally admit your feelings for each other, and believe me, they tried everything. Double dates with Anika and Mindy, going out bowling as a couple with Chad and Liv, Ethan and Bailey even tried flirting with both of you to see if you'd get any reaction, but Bailey just got scared of Tara's stares and Ethan backed off because he was sure he'd get punched by you if he stayed by Tara's side for one more second. Amber even locked you in the bathroom once! But that only earned her screams and more screams.   

At some point, everyone was convinced that you might have to figure it out on your own. They didn't know when, they didn't know where, and they certainly had no idea how close it was to happening. Which brings us to the present moment.  

You and Tara always liked to do everything together, and with a big test coming up, you and the Carpenter girl decided it would be a good idea to study together. Your house wasn't noisy, you're sure your brother would stay at his girlfriend's for many days, and your parents were never home, preferring work to spending any time with the family they decided to build themselves.   

Walking to your room - where you and Tara were studying - you carried two glasses of lemonade. Summer was coming and the cold drink seemed perfect to quench your thirst.   

“Man, this is really good.” You said, taking a sip of the liquid in the glass after handing Tara's glass to her.   

Convinced by your tone, Tara brought the glass to her lips, her eyes widening slightly when she saw that you were right. “Wow, you really know how to make something.” Tara says, mocking you.   

“Hey! Of course I know, who the hell do you think I am?”  

Practically throwing yourself into your chair, you felt yourself going slightly backwards in a jolt. Momentarily forgetting that the wheelchair would move if you threw yourself onto it. The sudden movement caused the glass to tip slightly, causing much of the liquid to splash onto your white shirt.   

“Oh, fuck!” Getting up quickly, you heard Tara laughing, glancing at the girl in time to catch her looking at you with a funny face.   

“ Dude, you're such a loser.” Laughing even harder at the scowl on your face, Tara turned around in her wheelchair, following you with her eyes as you walked towards your closet, pulling at your shirt to remove it from your body.   

“Yeah, very funny. Suck my dick, Carpenter."   

Tara knew you meant it in another way, but seeing your muscly back and catching a glimpse of your abdomen and the muscles in your arms made Tara wish you had meant it in the way she was thinking.   

Who could blame her? You were always Tara's ideal type, from the first day she saw you she knew she'd have a fucking crush on you. You were tall, strong, beautiful, had a style to envy, you were polite and funny at the same time. You were everything Tara had always asked the heavens for. But she was afraid, afraid of ruining the friendship you had created over all these years. So she kept accepting the crumbs you gave her, because that was better than losing you completely.   

You and Tara had made out before, but it never went beyond that. Tara knew you had a nice body, and she was even more sure now. With your closet doors open, Tara could see you perfectly well, innocently looking for another shirt, totally oblivious to the hungry gaze the younger Carpenter had in your direction.   

“You know, it's not a bad idea.” Frowning at what Tara had said, you continued looking for a clean, stylish shirt to wear, oblivious to Carpenter's movement around your room.  

“What?” you asked, genuinely confused when a strangely nervous Tara approached you.   

“It wouldn't be a bad idea for me to suck your dick.” In disbelief, you looked at Tara with slightly wide eyes.   

You'd never even talked about sex, let alone considered it. “You're kidding, right?”   

“Why? Do you think you can't handle me?” Tara asked, her fingers gripping the belt loops of your pants, pulling you closer and making you slightly nervous.  

“I can handle it. Can you handle it, Carpenter?” You said, pulling the shorter girl closer by the waist.   

God, you loved Tara's waist, it was so small in your hands, it made you feel so big.   

“Why don't you come and find out...”   

In all the talk, that was more than enough to make you move forward, kissing Tara's lips with desire. Your hands squeezed the girl's slender waist and Tara's sighs were like music to your ears. Her lips tasted like strawberries from the lipstick, and the kiss had a slight aftertaste of the lemonade you were drinking a few minutes ago.   

You couldn't believe it, Tara was simply the most beautiful girl you'd ever seen, and here you were, about to have sex with her. You were nervous, but you had to get over it. You wanted it to be good for Tara, as much as you knew it would be for you.  

Tara gasps as you lift her off the floor, wrapping her legs around your waist, Tara noticing that you were holding her with just one arm, while the other groped the walls, looking for the way out, as you were too busy kissing Tara's neck to lift your head. Finally emerging from the closet, you walk over to the bed, carefully tossing Tara onto it before climbing on top of her.   

“Fuck, you're so hot, Tara.” Lowering your kisses to her breasts, you tugged at the hem of Carpenter's shirt in a silent request to take it off.   

“ Fuck, Yn. Do whatever you want to me!” With a smile on your face, you pulled Tara's shirt off, your fingers quickly going up and opening the clasp of the girl's bra.   

“God, you're so beautiful, Tara.” Hearing your words, the Carpenter girl's body shivered, making her let out a moan as you massaged her breasts - now free of the fabric -.   

“Do you like it?” Looking at you in bewilderment, Tara saw you laugh a little. “Do you like it when I compliment you, Tara?”   

Tara moaned, confirming what you wanted to know.   

“Do you like it when I say you're being a good girl for me?” Tara moaned awkwardly as you took her nipple in your mouth, sucking slowly without giving the girl a chance to respond to your teasing.   

Taking advantage of Tara's distraction in the fog, you unbuttoned the girl's pants, pulling the garment off her body, seeing the damp stain forming on her panties.   

“Fuck, are you already wet?” You teased, leaving a kiss on Tara's clit under the fabric of her underwear, only for the Carpenter girl to let out a loud moan.   

“You do that to me.” Tara said, pulling your hair closer to her intimacy. “Please fuck me.”  

You smiled, knowing that you were making the most of this moment. Even as you felt your cock growing in your pants, you decided that you wanted to make the most of that moment.   

Removing Tara's panties, you gave her pussy an experimental lick, collecting all the juices that flowed from it. “Uhmm, you're delicious, Tara.” Hearing Tara moan, you continued your work.   

Grabbing the brunette's legs, you gained more access to her intimacy, sucking her clit and making the woman squirm in your arms. “Please, Yn. I need more.”  

Looking at the woman, you could see Tara's watery eyes, those eyes that seemed to beg for your pity, those eyes that made you want to torture her even more with pleasure. But at that moment, those eyes made you give in.  

Standing up, you unbuttoned your pants, making Tara lean on her elbows so she wouldn't miss a second of the show. When Tara saw the bulge in your underwear, her mouth was already dry, she had imagined how big you were, even felt it a few times when she was sitting on your lap at parties, but she never thought she would see it up close.   

Seeing Tara look at you as if you were a piece of meat, you let out a snort, reaching out to grab a condom from the drawer of your bedside table. “Drooling too much?”  

“Shut up.” Tara said, the smile on her lips letting you know she was enjoying the moment. “I think you talk too much.”   

Looking at Tara with a raised eyebrow, you watched the girl kneel on the bed, reaching up only to take the condom from your hand, settling back on the bed with a predatory look on her face. “You don't know what you're talking about...”  

“Come here and show me.” Overcome by desire, you took off your underwear, making your cock jump free and hit your abs.   

Climbing onto the bed, you made your way between Tara's legs, kissing the Carpenter girl as soon as you had the chance. You gasped into the kiss as soon as you felt Tara's hand reach your cock, feeling her pump a few times, you spread kisses across her neck, distracting yourself while the younger Carpenter put the condom on you.   

Moving up from her neck to Tara's jaw, you pulled away from her slightly, looking into her brown eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this?”   

Rolling her eyes, Tara put a sarcastic smile on her face. “Why? Don't you think you can handle it?”   

Getting onto your knees properly, you watched Tara lie back comfortably on your pillows. “I just want to make sure you're comfortable with it, Tara.”   

Seeing that you were serious, the Carpenter girl stretched out her arm, her hand resting on your waist, only for her to shake her head, as if finally realizing that you wanted a sincere answer from her.   

“Of course I do.” Sitting up properly on the bed, Tara's hand reached for the back of your neck, pulling you until your forehead was resting against hers. “I've never wanted anything as much as I want this, Yn.”  

Seeing you nod, Tara smiled, pulling you into a kiss and making you lie on top of her. One of your hands was on her waist, while the other guided your cock to her wet pussy.  

Carefully, you slid the head of your cock into Tara, making the woman moan into the kiss. “Fuck, you're so big!”   

“You like that, pretty girl?” Tara moaned at the nickname, ecstatic as you sank into her inch by inch.   

“Fuck, I love it.” Taking your hand in hers, she looked up at you, almost as if asking your permission.   

With your cock all impaled inside Tara, you took both her hands, intertwining them with yours and placing them on top of her head. Your thrusts began at a slow pace, but increased in line with Tara's desperate pleas.   

The brunette underneath you was ecstatic, she was loving it, you were even better than Tara had imagined. You could make the hard feel soft, and the fast feel loving, you could make Tara feel two ways at the same time. She had never had sex with someone who made her feel loved and dirty at the same time.   

The words and compliments you whispered to her made Tara's stomach churn with pleasure, your big, sturdy form on top of her gave her the feeling of protection and imposingness that she used to hate with guys out there. But Tara knew you weren't a guy, and you weren't even close to being a jerk like them either.  

You managed to be gentle and loving amidst the brutality of your thrusts, you managed to leave Tara wanting more, you were making the brunette see stars. And it was only when Tara felt that no forming that she let out a loud moan, which was quickly muffled by your lips on hers.   

You knew Tara was coming, when you pulled away from the kiss, you saw her eyes roll back, her hands squeezing yours as it became harder and harder to move inside her. Slowing your thrusts, you followed Tara all the way up her, still hitting her g-spot as you chased your own orgasm.  

Kissing Tara's forehead, you thrust a few more times, seeing tears of pleasure in the woman's eyes. Grunting, you pulled your cock out of Tara, masturbating quickly and watching the jets of your come fill the condom.   

“Fuck...” Taking off the condom, you went to the bathroom, disposing of it in the trash and getting back into bed as quickly as possible, worried that Tara would think it meant nothing to you.   

Lying next to the brunette, you could see the smile on her face. Crawling closer to her, you left a kiss on the younger Carpenter's cheek, making her look at you with heartfelt eyes.   

“Was it good for you?” you asked, still worried that you hadn't satisfied the woman.   

“Are you kidding?” Tara asked, settling down on your bare chest. “It was the best fuck of my life.” She said laughing.   

Smiling, you looked at Tara, the words stuck in your throat. “Did that... mean anything? Or like, are we just friends who fuck?” You asked, laughing nervously.   

“Yn, I never wanted to be just your friend.” Tara said, leaning in and kissing your lips.   

A feeling of relief ran through your body. Finally, you had the girl you'd always wanted, and you were going to do everything to make her happy. 

hey guys, I hope you're well.

I'm very happy to be posting here today, I hope I'll be able to post some short requests and some thoughts that you send as well.

did you see the oscars? honestly, i'm very happy that “i'm still here” won an award. And although I was rooting for Fernanda until the last minute, I'm also very happy for Mikey. And I want to say that this profile does not support ANY kind of hate or misogyny towards Mikey.

Mikey is a kind and loving soul, and she's just doing her job. So I want to make it clear that I don't support any kind of hate.

anyway, that's it. drink water, stay safe

xoxo, spider.

[woewriting]

turning point (g!p)

pairing: tara carpenter | reader summary: tara calls you to rescue her from a bad date and things take a surprising turn. word count: 3726 warnings: mdni, +18 only! no ghostface au, reader has a dick, friends with benefits (?), clothed sex, language, smut in general. a/n: will you guys believe if i say the date part was inspired by a terrible date my coworker had? because it was and @wesstars is the proof of it!

masterlist

When the 7th episode of season 4 of Stranger Things started you felt your phone vibrating somewhere in between the cozy blankets. As you blindly looked for it, eyes focused on the TV in front of your bed, you felt it vibrating once again, but this time more than once. 

Holding the phone in your hands, the name “tara” followed by a small heart emoji showed on the screen with 4 messages attached to it. Pausing the episode, you unlocked the device. 

tara ♥︎ can you come pick me up? please this is the worst date ever 😭

Sewing your eyebrows together, you were quick to reply, asking for her location. 

tara ♥︎ im at the motel near the campus, green valley or something chad is showering and i told him i’d take an uber home because i wasn't feeling well and didn’t want to stay anymore please come fast

Typing a simple “omw”, you grabbed your hoodie, throwing it over the white tank top you usually wore to sleep along with sweat shorts that easily became a second skin.

It was easy to spot the building as a gigantic green neon sign took over most of the illumination of the empty street. You parked in front of it, patiently waiting for your best-friend as you sent a message letting her know you arrived. The place seemed expensive and well cleaned, unlike most cheap motels that took over the right side of the street near the campus of your college, still, it didn't appetize you to walk in.

Soon, the younger Carpenter ran towards you, sighing in relief when she jumped into the car. 

“That bad, huh?” You asked with a laugh, setting the first gear ready to go back home. 

“You have no idea.” Tara whined, turning on the heat, complaining about how cold it was outside in a whisper. “I'll tell you everything when we get home.”

“I'm watching Stranger Things.” The focus on the road in front of you as you took a right turn didn't allow you to see the indignation expression on her face, more dramatic than it was necessary.

“Is Stranger Things more important than me?”

“I’m about to find out what happened at the Hawkins Lab…” You continued, trying to convince her of your cause, but her next words made you look at her with raised eyebrows, a convinced smile of someone who won drawing her lips.

“He has a small dick.”

“I'm all ears, princess.” 

The return home didn’t take more than 10 minutes, especially with empty roads and yellow sign lights. Tara started telling about her date from the second it started, which was 5PM, the exact time she started to get ready. Honestly, none of that was necessary to reach the part that it all went downhill, but you didn’t dare to interrupt, you paid attention to every word Tara was saying as you carefully parked your car in your designated spot.

The second the elevator stopped on your floor, Tara had finished telling you about the dinner part of her date. 

According to her, the food wasn't bad, but the place was crowded and the music playing was so annoying that it became a bit too much for her. It was already hard to pay attention to anything Chad was saying as the others' conversation was caught in the middle, stealing her attention, all she could was nod and smile, like one of the Penguins from Madagascar. 

You laughed at her indignation and the small wrinkle in between her eyebrows, opening the door and giving her space to walk in. Kicking your shoes away, the both of you automatically walked to the door at the end of the small hallway of your apartment, the episode 7 of Stranger Things’ last season still on pause when you sat on the bed being followed by Tara; Jamie Campbell’s beautiful blue eyes on the screen.

“... and after we got to the motel, things were heating up and his hands were on my ass and he kept pushing me against him and…” Tara stopped talking after noticing the disgusted expression on your face as you made yourself comfortable on the bed. The girl sat right by your side. “I will not spare any details.”

“I’m seriously considering automatically deleting every explicit part of it.” You retorted, shifting uncomfortably against the headboard.

Despite the years of friendship you and Tara had, from Junior High all the way to college — where you both were right now, nothing touchy ever happened between the two of you, not even a single, drunk kiss at parties. You two were close, of course, but not this close, and hearing the vulgar words easily slipping out of her mouth was creating a weird feeling inside your chest.

“I don’t care.” The girl rolled her eyes, moving closer to you. “Continuing, Chad is gentle, nice, and it feels good to be with him, but ugh… I couldn’t even feel anything when I was sitting on his lap.” You let out a small laugh, scratching your eyebrow. That wasn’t the first time Tara rambled about a bad date, but this was Chad, a common friend, and someone that the young Carpenter had a genuine interest in. At this point, that interest had disappeared into thin air. “And when he removed his pants, he had this military patch underwear and black socks on and it was a huge turn off.”

“Black socks really do sucks…”

“I know!” The exasperated way she agreed with you made you laugh, her hand resting near your knee. “Can you believe he didn’t want to take them off? He said he has cold feet.” Her face fell against your thigh, a tired sighing leaving her mouth, hot breath hitting your bate skin. “I should’ve ran when he said that.” Tara mumbled.

Your hand naturally rested on her head in a soft petting, “You really should have.”

The brunette moved a little, laying on her side with her cheek still resting on your leg to feel the soothing moves of your fingers on her hair. The new position gave her a small vision of what's beneath the thick fabric of your shorts, the hem of black boxers peeking through. She looked away, crimson color on her cheeks as she continued the events of the night.

“But, it’s Chad, so I decided to ignore that ridiculous sock and continue.” You nodded your head. “He removed that equally annoying underwear and I swear to God! It was smaller than my hand, and my hands aren’t that big! Look.” To prove her point, she held your other hand, measuring it with her own. She intertwined your fingers together after you agreed with her, resting them both on her chest. “But I was like… okay, it’s not big but maybe he can be good with his tongue.”

“Oh, God.” You choke, closing your eyes. “I will never be able to look at him again.”

“Imagine how I feel!” Tara whined. “But then I thought to myself, he’s a terrible kisser; if he doesn’t know how to use his tongue on my mouth, imagine how bad it’ll be when he use it on my pu—”

“Okay! Let’s not use those explicit words, please.” You interrupted her, shifting again. “But damn, is that guy good at anything?”

“He has a nice body… from the waist up.” This time neither of you could hold back the laugh, the delightful sound of her laughing mixed with yours filled the room for a couple minutes, your hand still playing with the soft strands that spread across your leg. “Chad is a nice guy, but… that’s not enough for me, you know? I crave touching, feeling something. And he was so small I would barely feel anything.” Tara cried out, covering her face with her free hand as the other still held yours against her chest.

“I’m not a sexual freak or anything but I agree, at least the kiss has to be good. So that’s when you messaged me?”

“I wish.” It was your turn to sigh loudly. “We kept going and when I asked him to wear protection, you won’t believe it…”

“He didn’t have any?”

“Oh, he did.” She bit her lower lip, hand still covering her eyes as the images played like a broken record behind her closed lids. “After that awkward moment where he put it on, he got soft.”

“Maybe it was too tight or something, that can be an annoying bother.” You tried defending your friend, but the girl denied with her head, pursing her lips together, deciding if she should say it or not, but after all the details she already had shared, this one wouldn’t matter either.

“It was loose. It was the smallest size and it still was big for him.”

“Jesus Christ. I am deleting every photo I have with him. I can’t bear looking him in the eyes after knowing all of that.” Once again, your laugh filled the bedroom, making Tara look at you with narrowed eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Is it me?” You tilted your head to the side in confusion. “Am I the problem?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe I’m a terrible kisser and that’s why it didn’t fit.” She explained, looking at you.”Do you think I’m hot?”

“Where did that come from?” 

“The deepest part of my curious brain.” Tara sat back up, resting her hand and yours on her thigh. “Now answer me, am I hot?”

“You are hot, Tara.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure the problem wasn’t you. Maybe he was just nervous to be with you, I don’t know.”

“That does make me the problem.” Her eyes never left yours, looking for a small sign of a lie that was never found; after all, you did find Tara hot. “Why did you never kiss me?” 

You let out a deep sigh. “Because we’re friends.”

“You kiss your friends. Amber, Mindy, and I’m sure you tried to kiss my sister once too.”

“Please, don’t bring that to the table.” The pinkish tone that colored your cheeks made the other smile. “And it’s different, they’re just friends, and you’re my best friend.”

Tara moved on the bed, sitting on her calves, still looking at you, and still holding your hand. 

“Kiss me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Kiss me.”

You let out an awkward, breathy laugh, trying to pull your hand from hers and moving away just a bit, but the brunette was determined, you could see it in the dark brown eyes.

“Stop joking around, Carpenter.” You said one more time, her slender fingers tracing random patterns on your thigh with her free hand, feeling the goosebumps all over your skin, big bambi eyes staring at you. “Tara…”

“Please…” She cried out, the tip of her fingers trespassing the hem of your shorts, only a few centimeters away from your clothed cock. You could already feel it twitching inside your boxers just from those small touches. “I just wanna prove to myself that I can do it and that there’s nothing wrong with me. You, as my best friends, should help me with that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, I truthfully believe you can get someone hard.”

“Then why wasn’t he hard?”

“Maybe it was just a bad day or he was nervous, I don’t know.” You repeat what you said earlier, hoping that it was enough for the small girl. It clearly wasn't though.

“But we were having fun! He was sweet, polite, respectful, and paid for dinner and the motel, which was not cheap. It makes no sense!” She whined like a spoiled kid. Tara sat on your thighs, holding your face in her hands. “Lemme touch you. Please.”

“Can’t we just watch Stranger Things and forget about this terrible date?” You asked in hopes she would let that stupid idea go; she obviously didn’t. 

“We can, after we kiss.” Tara fixed herself on top of you, moving up. Your hands instantly grabbed her waist, before she could sit on your hips. “You know I won’t stop.”

“You’re like the donkey from Shrek.” You writhe under her.

“Please…”

“Dear Lord.” Your head fell back, hitting the soft headboard. “Why does it have to be me? And now?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” The girl shrugged. “Plus, you never let me see it.”

“I swear you have the strangest obsession with my dick.”

“I’m just curious about it.” Feeling the loosen on your grip, Tara moved slightly up, sitting right on top of it. “And I can definitely feel it.” The brunette pushed herself down, biting her lower lip. 

“Please, stop moving.” You whined, trying to hold her still, but she was determined, you could see it in her eyes. It wasn’t going to take long before your underwear became a bother. “Tara, I’m warning you.” 

“You sound so hot, you should use that tone with me more often.” Her hands grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, wrinkling it, pulling you closer until her mouth was yours. You didn’t stop her or kissed her back, but your grip on her waist grew stronger. She smiled against your lips, one of her hands sliding down your body, nails scratching your belly under your hoodie, threatening to trespass the waist of your shorts. “Can I touch you?” 

You gulped hard, staring at the brown eyes that looked soft, unlike her hands. “Are you sure you want to do this? There's no point of return.” Tara nodded fast, not giving a second thought to it, playing with the waist of your shorts. “You can touch me.”

When you gave Tara permission to touch you, you thought the girl was going to wrap her hands around your soft shaft, but all she did was kiss you, slowly and enticing, and this time you kissed her back. Your hands on her waist helped her move against your lap, grinding on you at a torturous pace. 

You wanted to turn around, change your positions so you could control whatever it was about to happen, but you allowed her to be in charge; this was all about Tara proving to herself she’s not the problem, right? So you held back the urge.

Tara’s hands moved up again, wrapping around your neck as she got closer, pushing herself down on you, moaning against your parted lips when she felt your dick pressing on her even though you weren’t hard. 

Her kiss trailed down your neck, gently nibbling on the skin there. You threw your head back, moving your hands down her ass, under the skirt of her dress to push her harder against you, increasing her hips’ speed.

“Fuck…” You let out a sharp breath, completely affected by the delicate touches coming from your best-friend, and that only made her more eager to pleasure you. 

“Do you like this?” Tara whispered in your ear, softly biting on your lobule, tracing the cartilage with her teeth. All you could do was nod. She could feel you slowly getting hard against her ass.

Licking your lips, you thrust your hip up in a strong move, making the both of you moan lowly. You could come just with that friction if she continued moaning with her mouth so close to your ear, only for you to hear it.

Tara’s hands trailed down your body once again, but this time she pushed down the elastic of the waistband of your gray shorts, in a silent request for you to remove it. She lifted herself just enough for it to slide down your legs, pooling just before your knees, the black boxer still hugging your thighs tightly. 

She didn’t want to look down, too shy to do so, but when she sat back against your bulge, it was impossible to not look at it. She pursed her lips together, the moan choked in the back of her throat as she felt you pressing hard against her. A wet spot taking form on the dark, thin cloth the more she rolled her hips on you.

It was an agonizing pain to let Tara in control of the situation. You could feel the warmth and wetness dripping for her cunt, you would easily slide in her, if she allowed you to. But you didn’t know how far she wanted to go with you, after all, this was just a test to see if she could get you hard, and she definitely could as she felt you twitching against her in desperate need to release. 

This could've stopped here and now, you were hard after all, but in a bold move, her hand slipped into your underwear, her hand holding your dick in a hard squeeze that almost made you scream against her mouth. Pulling your length out, Tara wrapped her hand around your shaft, moving it up and down in a provocative way, smiling against your parted lips. Her eyes were dark, staring at you with luxury dripping from the brownish just like she was dripping on your thighs. You could feel the hot, thick liquid oozing on your skin as she rubbed herself on you.

“Fuck, Tara.” You breathed out again, broken, lewdly. 

The brunette dipped her hand in her own underwear, eyes threatening to close as she rounded her swollen clit with two fingers, but she kept them open with a wicked expression on her face. Tara pulled her dress up, giving you the privileged view of her ruined underwear, the white fabric completely transparent. You couldn’t help yourself as your finger traced the wet stain, Tara’s mouth hanging open at the agonizing slow touch.

“Stop.” She asked in a trembled voice, shakingly holding your hand with flushed cheeks. “I don’t wanna cum like this.”

“And how do you wanna cum?” 

Letting go of your hand, she watched with focused eyes as you took two of your fingers in your mouth, sucking at the slick that coated them with a satisfied hum. Tara seriously considered saying she wanted to ride your face and fall apart on your lips, but she just, messily, removed her underwear. A thin line of arousal followed the cloth as she tossed it somewhere in your bedroom, your mouth watering at that.

Tara pulled your boxer slightly down just enough for your member to be released, proudly hitting your lower belly, before placing herself on top of your cock, the blood flowing in your veins reverberating against her clit, making both of you choke on your breath. She fitted your length in between her slick folds, almost crying at the warm feeling. 

She started grinding on you, shaking at every small move. 

“This feels so fucking good.” 

Throwing her head back, Tara supported her weight on her arms, gaining a fast pace. Your hands held the skirt of her dress up, giving you the perfect view of her shining cunt, smearing herself all over your cock. You could feel that tight knot on your stomach at that.

Moving one of your hands up and taking the dress with it, you crossed a barrier when you exposed her perfect tits, holding the stiff nipple with your thumb and index finger in a hurtful squeeze, earning yourself a crying moan that only made you throb against her center, while the other hand bruised the skin of her ass. You could see the red marks of your fingers all over her waist. 

Pulling her torso towards you, your lips wrapped around her other nipple, trembling your tongue on the hardened nub, making Tara’s hands pull on your hair, keeping you close to her chest. Her hips started to lose speed, squirming in your arms as she neared her release; you weren’t going to last much, not when she started whispering your name over and over, shakingly violently in your arms. You came right after her, shooting thick ropes of cum directly into your hoodie. 

Your arms were fast to hold her against you, keeping her body close as you came down from your high together. Tara's head fell on your shoulder, her hot breath tickling the skin of your neck, you could feel her smile. 

“You okay?” Being the first one to break the silence, you asked in a soft voice, running your hands up and down her back, feeling her heart beating like crazy; yours weren't different, smashing itself against your ribcage.

“I'm great.” She mumbled out, weak and out of breath. “Are you okay?” 

Feeling the nod of your head, she pulled away from her hiding spot. When you met her eyes, a pinkish color was filling the skin around her cheekbones, coloring the freckles that spread across her face, and unlike you were wondering inside your head, things didn't look awkward after that; Tara still had that familiar, warm look in her eyes when she leaned in to place a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips. 

“Are you proud of yourself?” 

“For making you cum without barely touching you?” Tara laughed in a proud voice, avoiding looking down as she felt your length still comfortably placed in between her slick folds.

Your hands were firm on her waist when you lifted her hips, guiding the tip of your cock against her sensitive bundle of nerves before slowly sliding in her cunt at the same time she fell back on your thighs, trying to catch her breath at the sudden invasion. A small smile on her face at the feeling of being full, her velvety walls clenching hard around your shaft, still recovering from her orgasm. 

“For the fact that I'm still pretty hard.” Pressing kisses over her jawline, you thrusted up, a surprised moan escaping her throat. “Can you feel it? How hard I am? How good I'm filling you?” 

“Yes…” She choked out, wrinkling your hoodie in her fingers, trying to find support on your shoulders when your hands forced her up, your member coated in a thin layer of her arousal before sliding her back down. “I'm very proud of myself.” The breathy confession made you smile against her neck, softly biting on her jugular before your movements gained a steady rhythm, mixing with the wet sounds and the melody tone of her voice calling out your name for every neighbor to hear.

[comet-forgot-you]

size kink w tara carpenter? just manhandling her

yes

smut. 18+ pls.

just being so much bigger than her, so much stronger. you get to maneuver her however you like, holding her against the shower wall while you’re on your knees, face buried between her thighs. she’d barely be standing. one leg pulled over your shoulder for your convenience, and the second she cums, shes trembling. she can barely keep herself up, but you’re there to help. you hold her against the wall, her knee giving out as she gives into you.

or maybe fucking her in missionary and its just not enough. you bring her knees to her chest, allowing your strap to reach deeper into her needy cunt. she’ll whine and beg for something she cant even name, poor thing forgot how to form complete sentences with the way you fuck her so deeply.

or maybe you take her to the gym with you and she cant help the way she’s basically soaking through her underwear when you bench her body weight so easily. she loves the way your body flexes when you work out, she just has to have you. so she’ll follow you into the locker room and pull your hand into her underwear to make you feel the mess you unknowingly caused. its not long before you have her pressed against the cold, metal lockers. her thighs wrapped around your hips as you fuck into her just how she needed.

or maybe you making her ride your strap. its not much of riding as it is you lifting her up and slamming her back down as if she weighs nothing. her nails leave pretty scratches all along your body, ones that show the next day when you ditch a shirt and opt for a sports bra.

and maybe thats not enough for you, so you flip her onto her back so easily. your pace picking up with the new position. she holds onto you so tightly as you fuck into her, pathetic whines falling from her lips. you’d look down to where the two of you meet and find the slight bulge in her tummy with every thrust into her and you’d smile, pulling away from her ever so slightly.

“look at this, fucking you so deep,” you’d mumble as you press against the bulge. tara would whine, hips grinding desperately against your strap and it only spurs you on more.

yeah size kink with tara is kinda nice

[kaces-graham-crackers]

You Wrote This for Me? - Valentine's Special

Jenna Ortega x Writer Reader

Summary: The journal shouldn’t have been there. She shouldn’t have seen it. But the words are inked, the confessions buried in scribbled margins. Unfinished. She turns the page. The door opens. And now, there’s no taking it back.

Word Count: 1.5k

“Okay, but hear me out—unicorns are terrifying.” You scoffed as you stirred the pasta, glancing over your shoulder at Jenna, who sat comfortably at your kitchen table, script in hand. “Unicorns?” you repeated, unimpressed. “You mean the glittery, rainbow kind?”

Jenna smirked, flipping a page. “No. Think The Thing meets The Last Unicorn—except instead of spreading magic and joy, it hunts people. Horns like spears, glowing red eyes, and it camouflages itself as a stuffed toy when it needs to hide.”

You paused, setting the wooden spoon down. “... Okay. I’m listening.” Jenna grinned, pushing the script aside to grab her water. “It’s an indie horror project. The director wants something totally absurd but terrifying.” “And they chose you?” you teased, arching a brow. Jenna took a slow sip of water, leveling you with a look. “Yes. Because I embody fear itself.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You embody five foot nothing and need a ladder to reach my top shelf.” She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, she reached for her script again, flipping to a heavily annotated page.

“So, in this scene, the unicorn—”

Before she could continue, you realized you were missing ingredients. “Shit,” you muttered, glancing at the counter. “I forgot a few things for dinner. And we need drinks.” Jenna raised a brow. “You say that like we’re not just having pasta.” “I was gonna open a bottle of wine, if that’s alright with you, Ortega.” She smirked. “Ah. Fancy.”

You grabbed your jacket. “Bodega’s just a block away. Liquor store’s right after. Be back in fifteen.” Jenna waved a dismissive hand, already distracted by the script. “Bring me something good.”

You smirked. You had a plan for that.

Jenna spent two minutes flipping through her script, highlighting a line, trying to focus. But her eyes kept drifting back to the leather-bound journal sat just a few inches away, dark and worn, standing out against the otherwise neat surface of your kitchen table. It didn’t belong there.

And that’s what made it off. She ignored it. Then, as if possessed by something beyond her willpower, she reached for it. Just a peek.

She flipped past the first few pages—dates, random notes, the kind of scribbles people made when they were half-asleep. But then, a page caught her eye. And suddenly, breathing felt harder, and there it was. Her name. And below it, crossed-out lines, footnotes scrawled in the margins—like you had written and rewritten them too many times, unable to get them right.

Jenna’s lips parted slightly as she read. “She looks at the world like she’s memorizing it. Like every moment is something worth keeping.” A quiet exhale left her as her fingers traced the ink. The way she spoke. The way she carried herself. The way she laughed—not her polished, camera-ready chuckle, but the real one.

Below it, one line that wasn’t crossed out: “I love the way she exists.” Jenna blinked, pulse hammering. This wasn’t just writing. This was her. Her hands tightened around the journal, a war raging in her head. She should put it down. She should pretend she never saw it iInstead, she turned the page. And that’s when she saw the poem.

Short, unfinished, scribbled like you had tried to ignore it:

"If I were braver, I’d tell her." "If I were braver, I’d say it plain." "If I were braver—"

A key in the door.

Jenna’s head snapped up.

You stepped inside, a bag of groceries and a bouquet of flowers in one hand. Jenna barely noticed; your eyes flicked to the table, to the open journal in her hands, and in that moment—she saw the exact second you realized what had just happened.

A beat of silence. Then, softly— “…You read it.”

Jenna swallowed, gripping the pages a little tighter. She could lie. She could say it was an accident. She could pretend she hadn’t just read the one thing she had no business knowing, but instead, she lifted her gaze to yours. “…You wrote this for me.” And for the first time all night—

You didn’t have any words left.

Which was ironic, considering you had spent weeks—months— spilling them into that journal. Hiding them in half-sentences, crossing them out, leaving them unfinished like that would somehow make them less real. But now? Now Jenna was sitting at your kitchen table, holding your secrets in her hands.

You gripped the bag of groceries a little too tightly, your fingers flexing around the bouquet of flowers, still wrapped in plastic.

“I—”

You what? Didn’t mean for her to see? Weren’t ready? Meant to tell her after you worked up the courage with a glass of wine? None of that mattered now. Jenna’s eyes stayed locked on yours, dark and unreadable. “You wrote this for me,” she said again, softer this time. Like she was still processing it herself. Your throat went dry. “Jenna—” She glanced down at the open page. Her fingers ghosted over the words again, a quiet intensity settling in her features. “…How long?” she asked. You blinked. “What?” Jenna tilted the journal slightly. “How long have you felt like this?” Your stomach flipped.

“I—” You exhaled sharply, setting the groceries down before you dropped them. “Jenna, can we—can we not do this like this?” She didn’t move. Didn’t look away. And that’s when you realized: She wasn’t going to let you dodge this. Not now. Not after everything she just read.You swallowed, fingers flexing at your sides. “…A while.”

Jenna’s lips parted slightly, but she didn’t say anything.

So you kept going. “A long while...” A beat of silence stretched between you, thick with something you couldn’t name. Jenna closed the journal slowly, resting her hand on top of it. And then, she stood.Your breath caught.

She stepped around the table, each movement deliberate. By the time she was standing in front of you, you had completely forgotten how to breathe. Jenna tilted her head, studying you. You had seen this look before. On set, when she was locked into character. In interviews, when she was asked something she actually cared about. That sharp focus, that quiet intensity.Only now—Now, it was entirely on you.

“You were going to tell me tonight,” she murmured. It wasn’t a question. Your gaze flickered to the bouquet of flowers on the counter, then back to her. You gave a small, breathless laugh. “Yeah. I, uh… thought I’d have a little more control over the reveal, though.” Jenna’s lips twitched. “You should’ve hidden it better.” You huffed. “I didn’t think you’d go through my things, Ortega.” “I didn’t. It was just… there.” She hesitated, a quiet edge creeping into her voice. “Like it was meant to be found.” Your heart slammed against your ribs.

For a second, you didn’t know what to say. But then—Jenna took another step closer, and your brain completely short-circuited. Suddenly, she was standing right there, barely a breath between you, her gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips and back. And holy shit.“You’re freaking out,” she murmured, amusement creeping into her tone. “I am not—” You cleared your throat. “—freaking out.” Jenna smirked. “You’re standing completely still.” You blinked. “That’s called being normal, Jenna.” “No,” she said simply, eyes narrowing slightly. “That’s called being scared.” Your jaw clenched. “I’m not—”

Jenna reached up, gently tugging on the front of your shirt. Not pulling, not forcing. Just holding. And suddenly, the air shifted. Your pulse roared in your ears as her thumb brushed absently against the fabric, the warmth of her hand spreading through you like wildfire. “…You don’t have to be,” she said softly. Your breath hitched. And that was it. That was all it took for every single thought in your head to vanish.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, before your doubts could catch up to you, before anything else could get in the way—You leaned in. And finally—You kissed her. Soft. Slow. Tentative at first, but then—Jenna exhaled against your lips like she had been holding back just as much as you had, and then her hands were sliding up, one curling around the back of your neck, the other gripping your shirt just a little tighter.

And holy shit.

It was so much better than you had imagined. Your journal hadn’t been able to capture this. The way she sighed against your mouth, the way her lips moved like she had been waiting for this just as long as you had, the way her body fit so perfectly against yours like she had always belonged there. By the time you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless. Jenna’s eyes flickered open slowly, dazed but smug. “…So,” she murmured, voice lower than before.

You swallowed. “So?” She smirked. “Was that how you were going to end your confession?” You gave a breathless laugh, shaking your head. “Honestly? The journal kinda did that for me.”

Jenna hummed, pleased. “Good.”

Then, before you could say anything else, she grabbed the front of your shirt and pulled you in again. Honestly? This ending was way better.

[cobaltperun]

Hi, I was just wondering if you could do a bottom Tara x top g!p female reader fic?!

where Tara and reader are dating but when sam finds out she forbids reader to come over to their apartment the only time they see each is in college. So T and R are texting 24/7 and one evening things get a little spicy like they start sexting ig sending stuff too each other (if you get what I mean) then Tara decides to sneak out because she's missing reader (vice versa) and goes to reader's apartment and they do it for the first time also could it be soft smut and some aftercare maybe. It's just T and R being gay af!

You don't have to do this btw thanks either way!Bye have a good day/night :)

Rule Breakers

SMUT! Bottom Tara Carpenter x Top G!P Female Reader

Masterlist

Word count: 4.9k

“You are what?!” the scream Sam let out echoed through the apartment making absolutely everyone present, you and Tara included, flinch. This was not the reaction you hoped for, though Tara did warn you it would probably be like this. You had no idea how bad it would get.

“We are dating,” Tara repeated and you could tell by the way she reached out and grabbed your hand that she desperately needed to feel your touch to calm down. How could Sam not see that? See beyond the fact that she herself didn’t know you?

“Absolutely not! Tara you met her what? A month ago?” Sam was not accepting this at all. You could see the fury in her eyes as she looked at you as if you immediately threatened to hurt her sister. You knew what the reason was and you definitely couldn't blame her for it. But it still hurt to see she didn't trust Tara's judgment. Tara was an adult. She went through even more than Sam did and she just wanted to live her life, which included falling in love and dating, and you hoped one day moving in with you so you could build your future together.

Yeah. You were whipped.

“Four months, actually,” Tara rolled her eyes. The two of you met in college on the first day. You sat next to each other and immediately got along and fast forward three months, some time after she had opened up to you about how she was attacked and nearly killed by one of her closest friends, she just asked you out and you accepted it. You definitely developed a crush on her a lot sooner than that, and while that wasn't important at the moment you really believed Tara knew that all along. She just had a way of knowing just how you felt about her, in her own words, you were an open book in her eyes.

“That's not nearly long enough,” Sam pointed the finger at you, the fury in her eyes not fading even slightly.

“Hey, Sam wait!” Tara tried to stop her sister, but it was too late.

“Out right now. If I ever see you close to Tara things will not end well for you,” you had no doubts about just how serious Sam was and you saw Tara’s jaw dropping.

“What the fuck Sam?!” Tara screamed at her sister and quickly turned to you as you got up. “No this isn't what I want!” she jumped to her feet after you and stepped in front of you. “Hey, just listen to me, this isn't what I want,” it hurt you to see her like this, in pain and afraid, and her eyes already filling with tears.

For the first time since you came to the apartment you glared at Sam.

“Come on Sam give it girl a chance,” Chad tried to get her to see reason but a single glare shut him down.

“I will not risk Tara's safety,” Sam would not listen, in fact, she stood up as if to show you the way out. You swallowed the lump in your throat as Tara grabbed onto your hand to keep you from leaving, tears were falling down her face.

“I don't want this, please,” her hands trembled as she said that and for a moment you stopped glaring at Sam.

Your eyes softened and you gently brushed the tears off Tara’s face. “I know you,” whispered and leaned down to kiss her, Sam be damned. Tara relaxed into the kiss, realizing you weren’t going to leave her, and she kissed your back and poured all of her love into that one single kiss. When you separated you turned to Sam returning her glare without flinching for a single moment.

Sam was intimidating there was no doubt about it, but this was a lot more important. “You can try all you want, Sam, you will not scare me away. Got it? Drop the protective big sister bullshit because no one gets to make my girlfriend cry. Not even you,” the temperature in the room dropped when you said that and you could tell everyone just got on the verge of running away and you could not blame them.

Sam looked even more furious, she looked ready to spit fire and rain hell upon you, but you stood your ground. And to make your defiance even more clear you stepped around Tara and faced her sister head on with nothing blocking her path.

Sam remained silent for now, just glaring at you and you nodded, feeling like this ended about as well as it could. “Glad that's clear, I’ll see you later Sam,” you made your point clear, there was no reason to stick around because hanging out with Tara at this point, in this situation and in their apartment wouldn’t do any good for anyone, you and Tara especially.

~X~

She absolutely won the lottery. She would never try to even purchase a ticket because all her luck was just spent on getting the most amazing, badass girlfriends she could ever hope for. Did the way you talked back to Sam make her wet? Yes, yes it did.

Would she have gone to her room to handle that if everyone else still wasn’t at the apartment? Yes, she would have.

Would she do it tonight? Absolutely.

~X~

After what happened last week you and Tara kept seeing each other only at college, and that, more often than not, led to both of you just ditching the classes and getting coffee and croissants from a local bakery you both loved to visit. You did not expect that single decision to haunt you for the rest of the week. You both thought you were just that slick about it as you skipped several classes over the past week just so you spend time together and act like an actual couple instead of two people hiding from the world.

The world in this case being Tara's sister.

If Tara started failing classes because of her absence, well, that would be entirely on Sam.

~X~

Tara should have seen the trouble coming from a mile away. She just had too much fun today, walking with you in the park, grabbing breakfast, you even managed to catch a movie, and it was actually a good one! And to make things even better Tara couldn't keep her hand away from your own, constantly holding it as you went from one place to another.

And then the world just turned against her. She opened the doors and saw Sam expecting her with a stern look on her face, and arms crossed, sitting at the table in the kitchen.

She was in so much trouble.

“You were with her, weren't you?” well she couldn't exactly confess, so she would at least try to deny it. What were the chances that Sam had an actual proof Tara skipped classes with you?

“We were catching up on some lesson we missed, so classes got extended,” Tara lied a bit easier than she thought she would, but she figured the habits she picked up on while she was living with her mother were difficult to get rid of.

“Do not lie to me, Tara!” she flinched at Sam’s shout. “I went to pick you up and you weren't there. And when I asked your classmates if you even came to the classes, they told me neither of you showed up today!” Tara was caught pretty much red-handed and Sam knew it.

Tara sighed and sat down across the table. “You can't expect me to break up with her, Sam. I love her!” she was getting frustrated by Sam's behavior. Why couldn't her sister just let her go, just let her live her own life.

“Tara, you don't love her, you don't even know her properly! She could be dangerous,” this paranoia had to stop, because Sam saw everyone that tried to approach Tara as an enemy, as someone Tara needed protection from.

“Sam do you hear yourself?” Tara couldn’t deal with it anymore. “We are living with Quinn and she keeps bringing random guys to the apartment! Any one of them could be as psycho that just gets up one night and kills all three of us. You don't know those guys, yet you let Quinn bring them along!” Terra pointed out, exasperated by Sam not being able to see logic in her words, more importantly she was furious because Sam wouldn't trust her judgment.

She knew you. She had complete trust in you. And she got betrayed in a worse way than Sam did, after all while Richie was Sam’s boyfriend, Amber has been Tara’s friend for over a decade by that point.

“That isn't how Ghostface works and you know that,” Sam argued back. Ghostface this, Ghostface that. Tara was getting sick of it.

How could Sam not see it? “Ghostface isn't the only psycho, Sam! I can't live my life fearing that anyone I meet is going to turn out to be a psychotic killer. I want to live Sam, I fell in love and I want to enjoy that! I want to be with Y/N!” she desperately hoped Sam would just for once listen to her.

Yet Sam acted like a broken record. “We don't know her,” and Tara knew it wouldn’t matter how long you spent trying to get Sam’s trust. Sam would never know you ‘well enough’, Sam wouldn’t even try to get to know you.

“So what? I'm just supposed to fall in love with Chad? Because who else is left?” Tara demanded, but she might as well be talking in an entirely different language.

“This conversation is over, you’re grounded for a week,” Sam stood up and stormed into her room, leaving utterly flabbergasted Tara alone.

What a great way to spend the week off from classes.

~X~

Five days, that’s how long this torture’s been going on and Tara felt like she was about to lose her mind. And she was supposed to last an entire week?! The remaining two days felt like they would never end because each day seemed to drag out more than the previous one, even witconstant texting between the two of you. She turned in her bed for what felt like the hundredth time and her bed showed it. Messy twisted blanket, crumpled sheets, her head resting only on the corner of her pillow as she once again got on her back and stared at the ceiling. Sam was being unfair. Mindy had Anika, her and Sam were living with Quinn, who they didn’t know beforehand, and Tara was sure Sam had something going on with that Danny guy, and Chad was also occasionally flirting with girls! She was the only one who couldn’t have what she wanted.

Her phone buzzed and she immediately scrambled out of the blankets to take it. Curse her battery for needing to be charged! Tara quickly unlocked her phone and saw the message was from you.

Y/N: You need to see this!

Underneath it she saw the cutest Instagram reel of a puppy surrounded by ducklings.

Tara: 😍😍😍 They are so cute!

Your answer was immediate.

Y/N: Not as cute as certain someone, but it’ll have to do 😉

Tara fell back on her bed, a ridiculously wide smile already making its way to her face. Fuck, she missed you so much. ‘Yeah? Certain someone?’ she replied and her breath hitched when you sent her a selfie wearing a very soft looking shirt and grinning at her, and all of that could be manageable, if only Tara’s eyes didn’t immediately go to your lips and she realized it’s been way too long since she got to kiss you. She needed to feel your lips on her own, on her neck, on… fuck, what if you went lower. She bit her lower lip, studying your face, imagining your smiles, the way you looked at her.

Y/N: Tara? Baby? You’ve left me on seen for five minutes

That message temporarily snapped her out of her daydreaming. Or would it be nightdreaming? She never really thought of the logic behind the word. And she was desperately trying to ignore the desire gradually, scratch that, rapidly building inside of her.

Tara: I miss you

She finally replied and glanced back at your selfie as you typed the response.

Y/N: I kiss you too

Y/N (edited): I miss you too

Tara burst out laughing and quickly covered her mouth. ‘I saw it! Can’t take it back!’ she replied only to barely hold her laughter back when you just replied with ‘Shit.’ She smiled fondly, taking pity on you.

Tara: I want to kiss you too, so, so bad. I keep thinking about it and other things all the time

There, she confessed, knowing you were still prone to getting embarrassed and all shy about how affectionate Tara could get. Randomly kissing your cheek or hugging you when she knew you least expected was easily her favorite thing to do. The clear embarrassment on your face and the hitched breath, and especially the way you would freeze for a moment kept Tara entertained.

You had your own ways to mess with her, though she suspected you weren’t doing it on purpose. You would just go ahead and pull her chair out for her to sit, or bring her favorite coffee along when you would meet up and it was really messing her up to feel so cared for after years of neglect. It was yet another reason why she was so mad at Sam because she feared she wouldn’t be able to forgive her sister if Sam’s suspicious nature chased you away.

Y/N: Other things?

Hook, line, and sinker.

Tara opened her camera and switched to video. She winked at it and then turned it lower, to her waist, making sure to capture every detail as she unbuttoned her jeans and just brushed her fingers over the zipper, taunting you. She slowly panned the camera up her body while trailing the path with her hand. “Other things,” she was well aware of the sliver of her skin the camera caught when she pushed her shirt up. “Very specific things,” she whispered as seductively as she could, which, well, she didn’t have experience with seducing people, but she knew she’d get the desired effect with you as her hand brushing between her breasts moved the shirt in a way that emphasized her cleavage. And then she returned the camera to her face to show you she was lightly biting the corner of her lower lip.

She didn’t hesitate one moment before sending it.

You saw the message immediately, yet you didn’t respond, and Tara may have been stuck between getting nervous and completely confident in her charms. Minutes later she finally saw you typing.

Y/N: Tara

She could hear the exasperation in your message, yet she just sent ‘Yes, Baby? 🥺’

Y/N: Look at you acting all innocent

Yeah, she knew she was being rather mischievous. Even more so when she just replied with: ‘But I am all innocent’ she waited a moment, imagining you rolling your eyes and not immediately noticing the word play.

Tara: All innocent and inexperienced, just waiting for you to touch me

She put her phone under her shirt and took a photo, making sure there was just enough light to tease the details of her bra and sent it to you.

Your reply made her squeeze her thighs together. You sent her another photo, this time of you in front of a mirror, your hand covering the bulge in your pants and Tara caught herself wondering, and not for the first time, how big you were.

“Don’t tease me,” she sent you a voice message, whining as she cupped her breast, as her mind created the images of you taking her, fucking her. Instead of a message you actually called her and she resisted cursing because she was about to unzip her jeans and slip her hand inside. “Hey,” she whispered, trying to figure out if she could still do it.

“I’m teasing? Do you have any idea what you did to me?” your voice sounded strained an she knew you were in just as much of a dilemma as she was, only you seemed to be stronger than her, because if she didn’t do something about the lust she felt she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep.

“I know,” she admitted, biting back a moan as she slipped her hand into her jeans and teased her pussy over her panties. Fuck, she was already wet. “Y/N,” if only you were here with her, touching her, fucking her. “Are you hard?”

“What do you think?” you replied and she knew the answer. “I haven’t seen you in five days and the first thing you send me is that fucking video,” oh, you were cursing. She really got to you and you were definitely getting to her as she pushed her panties aside and slid her fingers through her wet folds.

“You started it,” Tara tried to defend herself.

“It was an innocent selfie!” you exclaimed just as she brushed the tip of her finger over her clit.

“Fuck, if we don’t stop neither of us will be innocent by tomorrow morning,” she moaned into the pillow, stuck between the urge to make herself cum and just sneak out and go to you.

“Shit, maybe we shouldn’t stop,” she could hear the faint sound of you stroking your cock and probably would have wondered if you could hear her too, but more importantly she made her decision.

“I’ll be there in ten,” she absolutely despised herself for pulling her hand out of her jeans and ending the call, but she would quickly get rid of that feeling, she just needed to get to you first.

~X~

You met in front of your apartment with Tara immediately jumping into your arms and kissing you, and you found yourself being pushed against the wall next to your doors as she deepened the kiss. “Fuck, finally,” she groaned, pressing her body against yours. “Y/N,” she moaned your name, and you felt her grinding against you, not even waiting to get inside.

The effort it took to actually slow down and take her to your bedroom should be studied, but you couldn’t let your first time be rough and quick. No, Tara deserved a lot more than that. “Easy, Tara, let’s just go inside,” you barely put your hand over your mouth to quiet the moan when she nibbled on your neck.

“I need you,” she whined, but allowed you to pull her into the apartment and toward the bedroom.

“I know, I know, I need you too,” you confessed, uncomfortably hard, and it only got worse when Tara pushed you onto the bed and straddled your lap. “But we can take as much time as we want, just take it slow and enjoy our first time instead of rushing through it.”

She felt it when she jumped into your arms, and now that she was straddling your lap. This was what she wanted for so long, yet now that she was looking at you the words you spoke echoed through her mind. Yeah, she would really enjoy that, just taking things slow for once. Slow and steady.

She leaned down, kissing you softly as she brushed her fingers over the fabric of your shirt, reaching up to your shoulders and squeezing lightly when you wrapped your arms around her. “You sure you’ll be able to hold back,” she asked when she pulled back, you were very hard after all.

You ran your fingers through her hair and looked her in the eyes. “I’m not holding anything back,” you promised and kissed her again. Your lips felt so soft, and Tara moaned, she truly missed this feeling. You slid your hand down to her neck and Tara let out a shuddering sigh as she lifted her head up and made it easier for you to kiss her neck. This was good, this was familiar. Making out with you always left her needy and this time wasn’t an exception as she felt the heat pooling in her core. “Y-Y/N,” she whimpered when you bit her neck slightly, just the way she liked it and Tara slowly began grinding on you. “Just like that,” she whispered as you dragged your tongue up her neck, soothing the burning skin.

“You’re so beautiful,” you were mesmerized by her, captivated by her beauty. Her breathy moans felt like the most beautiful melody ever created and you were the one causing them. You pulled her shirt up just enough to slip your hands underneath it. You felt the slight shiver of her body as she squirmed a bit at your touch.

“Your hands are a bit cold,” she giggled as your fingertips brushed along her sides. “Y/N, that tickles,” she smacked you slightly on the shoulder and saw the grin on your face. “Goofball,” she kissed you quickly.

“Sorry,” you muttered, only half-serious as Tara sat up and slowly, in the most tormenting, teasing way possible, took her shirt and bra off. “Fuck,” she looked gorgeous and there was no way your eyes weren’t giving your thoughts away because you couldn’t get them off her body.

Tara smiled at that, she’s shown you her scars before, so she wasn’t worried about your reaction, but this? She was definitely getting an ego boost from this reaction, and the way your cock twitched against her pussy. “You want me, Y/N? Take me,” she said it. “Do anything you want with me,” and in return she’d do anything she wanted with you and there were plenty of things she wanted, so many in fact she knew you couldn’t do it all tonight.

You cleared your throat and nodded as you sat up yourself and then flipped the two of you around so you were on top of Tara. You looked her in the eyes as you leaned down and, while cupping her breast, licked her already hard nipple. Tara took your own shirt and bra off and watched you as you sucked on her breast while she ran her fingers through your hair, encouraging you to keep going. Her other hand found your breasts and she brushed her thumb against your nipple.

Your tangled bodies moved together. Every touch of your hands left her skin burning, left her body more desperate for your touch, every single brush of your fingers drove her mad with desire. And she still didn’t take her jeans or panties off. Your hand went lower until your fingers tugged at her jeans, teasing her and making her moan. “Need you,” she whispered and felt you nodding as your unzipped her jeans and pulled them down.

“You’re soaking wet,” you grunted as you slowly rubbed her pussy over her panties. Tara dared to believe you could slip your cock inside her without any troubles with how wet she was if only you weren’t so big. You pulled your hand out of her jeans, making her immediately whine.

“Y/N, don’t tease me, please,” she begged, but luckily you just took a moment to take her jeans and panties off and strip the rest of your clothes as well.

“That’s your specialty,” you got back on top of her and pushed two fingers inside her pussy, and if she wasn’t as aroused as she was she would probably be embarrassed at how easily your fingers slipped in. Your fingers felt so good inside her as you continued kissing and caressing her body and Tara lay there, a moaning mess before your cock was even inside her. She reached down and wrapped her hand around your cock, there was precum leaking out of it as she rubbed the tip with her thumb. “Don’t, I won’t last if you do that,” you bit her shoulder a bit rougher than you intended. “I want to cum when I’m inside you,” you said while bringing her close to her orgasm.

“Me too then. Put it in me, I’m ready,” she spread her legs for you and kissed you as you blindly reached for the drawer next to your bed and grabbed the condom on top of it. If she didn’t quite literally tell you you would be having sex she would have teased you, but as it was she just wanted you to put it on and fuck her.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” you asked as you lined your cock up with the entrance to her pussy. And oh, she was ready, soaking wet, she probably wouldn’t even feel any pain. Tara nodded and kissed you once more as she hugged you tightly. She felt the tip of your cock sliding into her pussy and moaned, breaking the kiss and leaning her head back on your pillow.

“Y- Ah! Y/N!” she cried out your name, her fingertips digging into the back of your head, her back arching as you wrapped one arm around her and used the other to hold onto her hip.

“You’re taking me so well, Tara,” you whispered in her ear and finally, finally, she took all of you. She was close before, but now, feeling this full, she knew she was right on the edge.

You knew you couldn’t last for long like this. Tara’s warm, wet pussy engulfed you and you tried to focus on something else, to prolong this, but there was no way you could do that, so, you moved your hand from her hip to her clit and began rubbing as you slowly began thrusting into her, hoping you could get her to cum before you did. You would hold back until she cums, you promised that to yourself.

“I’m so close,” Tara moaned. “Look at me,” she pleaded, and you immediately complied as you looked into each other’s eyes, your bodies moving in the perfect sync as she began meeting your thrusts. Her orgasm kept building up, slow and steady, like your entire lovemaking was tonight, and with each thrust she could see you were getting close as well. “Y/N,” she moaned your name, no longer conscious of how much time you spent like that. She just knew that at one point she came, loud and hard, as your sweat covered bodies pressed together and she felt you cumming as well with a moan of your own.

She was absolutely spent. Satisfied with this being her first time. There would be other nights or days for longer lovemaking with multiple orgasms. In her head, and she truly hoped, in yours too, this was perfect.

Tara held onto you, feeling happier than she’s been in a long time. The blissful feeling consuming her entirely as you pulled your cock out and she glanced down at the filled condom. Maybe it was just her orgasm affecting her brain but she couldn’t help but think how one day, when you’re both ready, you’ll be cumming deep inside her. “Baby, Y/N,” she hummed as you caught your breath on top of her and she gently scratched the back of your head.

You lowered your head a bit and kissed her shoulder. “You were incredible,” you whispered, peppering her shoulder and the side of her neck with soft butterfly kisses. “Tara,” you whispered her name like it was your own, personal salvation. “I love you so much,” it wasn’t the first time you said those words, but it felt so good to hear them.

“I love you too, Y/N,” she tilted your chin up and kissed you on the lips, just as soft as everything tonight was. “I never thought sex would feel this good,” she admitted. There was no pain, no holding back, it consumed her entirely and all she could feel was your love for her as you took her innocence.

You chuckled. “Tell me about it,” you rolled onto your back and pulled Tara on top of you so you could rest while still holding her.

Tara had other ideas, turning both of you so you were lying on the side. “There, that’s better,” she whispered and leaned in, closing the distance between you. You would need to get up soon, clean up, take care of the mess you made, but she could bask in your warmth for a bit longer. Especially when you began rubbing her back, soothing her, keeping her feeling good. “I love how gentle and loving you were,” she whispered as she snuggled up to you, aware that, while she did absolutely enjoy the gentle sex she wasn’t opposed to getting a bit rougher sooner or later. She wanted to feel it all with you, to try everything and anything you were both comfortable with.

“It felt right,” you hummed, focusing on holding her and occasionally kissing wherever you could reach at the moment. While Tara showered you with love through words, you preferred touch, and it worked for both of you perfectly. Tara who was starved for touch, you who were starved for words of affirmation, I was a match made in heaven in her mind.

You stayed like that for some time, easily fifteen minutes, if not closer to twenty. Just cuddling and loving one another before you finally went to clean up, not leaving the shared shower until all the hot water had run out.

A/N: Well... Sam may have been a tiny bit over the top/out of character for the sake of the plot 🤣🤣

[ajortga]

blurred lines

pairing: wednesday addams x supernatural!fem reader

word count: 5.1k

summary: wednesday has always thought she was destined to live alone without love, that is, until you come along, with a few negative first impressions.

-

“En garde.”

You pull the mask over your face, blowing the bangs out of your face, positioning yourself as students gather around. 

“Prete,”

You face your opponent, both catching your breaths. It was the last round, the score was tied, seven to seven, and this round was the tie-breaker. 

Wednesday faced you, the mask covering her stoic face as she calculated her moves to do. She couldn’t lose to you. She wouldn’t let it happen. Sure she had lost, once. 

But the Addams never lose. It made Wednesday feel vulnerable if she did.

“Allez!”

Immediately, Wednesday lunges towards you, aiming for your stomach. You dodge her, moving to the side as you both begin to try and succeed. It’s silent, the occasional gasps and murmurs of who may win flooding around the circle.

After a few long seconds of dodging, grunting, and clashing sabres, you start to notice Wednesday’s tactics. She rotates clockwise each time she misses another hit since you take at least 2 seconds to get back up. So as you jump back from another lunge, you make sure to bend your knees as you charge diagonally.

The whistle blows as your sabre barely grazes her uniform.

“Halt!” 

You pant, taking off your mask as everyone gasps. You had just beaten Wednesday Addams. 

Gosh did it feel good to feel your hair breathe, looking around at shocked faces. Particularly the one that stood in front of you, taking off her mask and her eyebrows furrowing as the professor raises your arm, “Y/N wins the point, meaning she has won the match.”

Okay..

-

“That was so awesome!” Enid says, looking quite ecstatic. “Wednesday was like pow poom poom! But you were like, no, pow pow pow! You should’ve seen yourself! You were basically flying in the air!”

“It was not that dramatic,” you huff, giggling a little and walking to the quad with her, “I didn’t even want to go against her, I seriously feel like she despises me. I only went up because everyone started making me pressured to go there.”

It was true, when you first transferred to the school, something in Wednesday made her feel sick. You were a lot better than her in everything, and though you were the complete opposite of Bianca, whom always wanted to challenge her, Wednesday had the urge to prove herself.

It started when you answered Mrs. Thornhill’s question within seconds. A question that required at least a few minutes of calculating. She could swear she cracked her pencil in half as she immediately looked up with bulging eyes.

She didn’t know what the feeling was. She was always at the top of her class. It made her intrigued by you. And she’d kill anyone who said it was admiration.

Wednesday Addams did not admire anyone. It was a stupid word that had a stupid meaning. 

-

“She’s some sort of mastermind,” Wednesday grits, pacing around her room as Thing taps around her bed. “First, she beats me at questions, and now fencing? She’s asking me for death.”

Thing doesn’t respond, making Wednesday turn to him. “What do you want now?” He makes a gesture with his hands as it takes the girl to process what he means.

“You stupid pathetic-” She grabs Thing, shaking him.

“Weds!” 

Enid’s voice makes Wednesday immediately put down the hand, looking at her. “What are you doing here? I thought you said you’d be out shopping with your friends.”

The colorful short hair girl looks around, “Well, it’s been two hours, but I’m here now. And I brought a friend! I hope you don’t mind!”

Oh god. She’s gonna see the end of it. “Enid, one of you is already bad enough. How bad is it going to be if you bring a-” She turns around to see that the friend was you.

Oh.

“Wednesday, this is Y/N, Y/N, Wednesday.”

At this point, you both knew who the other was.

You look around awkwardly, giving a lopsided smile that didn’t really look like a smile. Was it nice to meet her? You didn’t know.

Wednesday’s eyes that stared into yours looked to the side, “I know. You’re interrupting my writing time.”

Enid, being next to you, immediately furrows her eyebrows. “You weren’t writing when we came in.”

“And why are you the judge of that?”

“We aren’t going to bother you.”

“Your presence already bothers me,” Wednesday says stoically, for some reason you felt like that was directed to you more than Enid.

You elbow Enid gently, “Let’s just go, we can crash at Yoko’s maybe.”

“Sure.”

As Wednesday hears the door close, a part of her that won’t go away itches at her, wishing that maybe she could’ve let you guys stay.

..

After your magic lessons and school overall, you always found yourself in the library. It was peaceful, filled with books, even random cats roaming on tables. 

By the end of each day, to say the least, you were burnt out. 

As you studied, you glanced at a plant near the window, slowly crackling. With no sun, how could it grow? It was gloomy here at Nevermore. 

You placed a bookmark on your book and pushed it aside, focusing on the plant. Soon enough, it slowly drifted towards you, and plopped on your desk.

..

The doors of the library slightly opened and closed as Wednesday stepped in. Her hands were filled with cases and files of the Hyde, and well, many people of interest.

Unfortunately for her, she couldn’t stand Enid’s pop music, so she resorted to the library, looking for a place to sit.

She turned left, went straight, turned a corner, then turned back when she was met with a familiar figure.

An “oh,” fell from her lips as she watched your figure studying the plant rather than your actual work. You brought it closer to you, and then she saw the brittle plant begin to grow back to life, turning into a blue flower.

Something deep inside Wednesday’s chest twisted–she should be hating you.

-

A few days later, Wednesday was in the middle of her investigations. It was evening, and she was in her dorm the whole day alone, papers scattered everywhere, an evidence board up, an exhausted Addams.

A click of a door sounded as the girl turned around to be met with you and Enid. 

“Weds!” The girl next to you hollers, “We’re having a girls night tonight. You should totally join, a sleepover, smores, study hall, gossip-”

“I’m going out tonight for the Hyde,” Wednesday says, flipping through the pages.

“The Hyde?” You ask, looking between her and Enid.

“Stay out of this,” she snaps.

You narrow your eyes, brushing the topic off as you look at the item behind her. “Is that seriously a decapitated hand?”

Thing raises his fingers at you, tapping on the desk he was on.

Immediately he feels himself be lifted up as you bring him closer, who’s currently floating. Wednesday tries not to watch but she turns to look at her companion that is now placed into your hands. 

Most people would scream, instead, you look at him closely. “Hello, little one. I’ve never seen a creature like you before. What’s your name?”

The hand makes a few gestures, before you nod slowly. “Thing,” you mumble, testing his name on your tongue. “Suits you, you make me want to stitch you a little hat for Christmas.”

You place him back down, but instead, he jumps on your head.

“He never did that to me before!” Enid says, laughing as Thing happily rests on your head.

Wednesday can’t remember Thing doing that to her either when she first met him.

She keeps attention on her work as she speaks, “So, Y/N. How heavy can you lift?”

“Um.. My arms can handle maybe f-”

“I meant,” Wednesday gestures with her hands.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know.” You respond, taking one of Enid’s books as it drifts towards you and flips through the pages, before putting it away. “Usually anything I try lifting is able to lift, but if I’m being honest, I’ve only lifted lighter things. When it’s heavier, it’s like you need to put more effort to lift, and if it’s farther it goes the same for that.”

Wednesday slowly nods, looking away.

-

In the midst of night, the braided hair girl, wearing a snood, explores the dark forest. She had to prove that the Hyde wasn't a figment of her imagination.

A soft rustling noise sounded in the distance as Wednesday listened. She walked a little faster, coming across a tree with scratch marks. She nibbled her lip, taking out her camera to take a photo, before placing it back into her bag.

The sounds of leaves crackling grew newer, and before Wednesday knew it, she was met with.. You and Enid?

“What the hell are you doing here?” Enid whispered, looking freaked out. You just looked around, looking like you were just there for moral support.

“I told you, I’m looking for the Hyde. Gosh, Enid, I thought you were the Hyde.”

“Do you seriously just go out at night with no sense of self-protection?” You ask, shivering. It was freezing out here.

“It’s for the thrill,” she responds, her eyes slowly relaxing as she sees your shaking form. “And did you seriously go out at night in the cold with no jacket?”

“Well I only dressed for where I thought I was going to end up for the night,” you groan, kicking a rock on the floor.

“You two should probably leave, it’s dangerous out here.”

“Then why are you out?”

“Because I’m looking for-”

“I know, but shouldn’t you at least be more careful?”

Before Wednesday could respond, a loud growl sounded in the distance, thumps getting closer and closer.

“Mierda,” Wednesday breathed out, taking you and Enid by the collar and dragging you behind the tree. “We need to get out of here, I think it can distinguish us, damn it, it’s your perfume Enid.”

You pull out a perfume bottle and spray it onto a piece of paper you had in your backpack. “Okay, I need you guys to carry me while I do this. It’s a little risky, but I’d rather do this than die.”

“I don’t think-” 

“Wednesday, let’s just do it,” Enid hisses as they both lift you up, Wednesday wrapping onto your torso as she sees the piece of paper fly away in your thoughts command.

Surprisingly, you were really light as Wednesday held you. And as the paper drifted farther and the Hyde chased after it, you suddenly grew exhausted. Where even were you again?

It was something you had struggled with, being able to withstand how far your abilities could go. And now that the item was far away and out of vision, your head began to pound and your eyes almost rolled back, like it was chasing the paper.

By the time the two girls carried you through the gates of Nevermore, your hand was twitching and you were close to looking lifeless.

“Y/N?” Wednesday shakes you, making you mumble the most incoherent noise she’s ever heard. “I think she’s tired out too much,” the girl says, carrying you inside her dorm. 

She placed you on the bed, but you were clinging onto her like a lifeline, your eyes fluttering in and out.

“Let go of me,” the goth says, and Enid sits by. Eventually, Wednesday is next to you, eyes pointed as she sighs. “Why did you do that? We could’ve made it out if you didn’t.”

Unfortunately, you were a little too tired to respond, shrugging in replacement. 

-

In the span of the next few days, Wednesday felt her feelings about you slightly shift. Was it in a good way? She didn’t know.

Mrs. Thornhill had moved seats, and of course, you were seated by her. 

At first, it had ticked her off, the way you looked curiously at the plants more so than the lesson.

Then she started noticing the way you looked intrigued in your notes, eyebrows knitted as you scribbled neat words on your notebook. 

“What are you writing?” Wednesday whispers, “She’s going over important information, Y/N.”

“The Declaration of Independence,” you say, smugly, before scratching your head as the girl gives you an unimpressed look. “She went through this yesterday, if I had a good pair of ears yesterday, then I won’t need them for this.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

You turn to look at her as the bell rings for lunch. You stand up, walking to the doorway for lunch as she follows. “Why do you want to know?”

One of Wednesday’s eyebrows lifted, annoyed.

“Fine, I’m writing a letter to my older self.” You say, putting down your pen. “I like reflecting on how I’ve grown and I just talk about everything here, my favorite songs, people, things to do, goals I want to pursue by the next time I read it again, what I want to do in life, really anything.”

Your words weren’t what Wednesday thought they’d be as she blinks twice. She’s silent for a moment before she nods thoughtfully, “I see. That sounds.. Eventful. I didn’t think you’d be the writing type.”

You shrug, “Me neither.”

For once, you and Wednesday look at each other, a soft look on both of your faces.

Writing to your future self was stupid, she thought.

-

4/16

Dear Wednesday,

You attend Nevermore academy, you have been here for a year. And in that year, you have met many people, dare I say good ones for some? No. But you did meet some. I play the cello, I read. Is this boring enough? You met someone new. Her name is Y/N. She seems to beat you at everything, even the ones you thought you were good at. I feel almost annoyed, yet I can’t say much, considering the fact that she had tired herself out to save Enid and I. You like classical music, not Enid’s pop ear-bleeding ones. The less words, the better. As much as I love academics, I feel a sense of dread attending classes knowing I’ll be beaten. Where’s the fun in that?

6/24

Dear Wednesday,

You still like classical music, I must say nothing has changed. The case of the Hyde is still a mystery to be solved. Pugsley had visited, I’m thankful that little one has finally been aware how to fend up for himself, although I always do have a few tricks up my sleeve if he needs them. The month of the Poe Cup is arriving. The black cats had won last year, but merely because of our tricks. I’m almost shocked to say I’m excited, of course, not as close to watching horror movies. Of course not. I sometimes wonder if Y/N would join, would she be completely against it, then cave in like I once was? Or would she be the one to ask? Oh what could I be saying? I wonder if she would join the black cats at all. 

6/27

Dear Wednesday,

Y/N is on the black cats, I’m not excited. Though I do think she will carry the trophy for us all. I have faith in us three. 

7/2

Dear Wednesday,

We won the Poe Cup for the second time this year. She was the star of the show, she’s fast. We ask her to to poke a hole on a boat, she pokes 3 that even we didn’t see. We expect her to row her paddle fast, she somehow does, along with using 3 tree stumps. She’s a mystery to be solved. I’m carrying my mother's legacy, is this the start of a new streak?

10/5

Dear Wednesday,

The weather is growing colder, the seasons are changing and Jericho feels like a crisp breath of air. Y/N had written me poetry. But as the week progresses, she seems to be hiding a secret from me I can’t figure out It feels raw. Sincere. I’m learning the cello piece I overheard her talking about. Well, it’s not meant for the cello but we’ll make it work. She and Enid have been my company during nights when I’m searching for the Hyde. Nights where I’m alone, they fill the dark, and my sorrows have gone. Suddenly, the blank ideas for my novel have vanished. I just can’t figure out why. 

10/13

Dear Wednesday,

Today is my birthday. And I think I understand why I thought Y/N was hiding something from me. She had gotten me a gift. I’m not sure why it had made me smile in the moment but it did. She had crocheted me a black cat, I remember seeing a white one on her desk and I was so intrigued by it that I asked her what it was. Now I have one of my own. Maybe that’s why they call it happy birthday.

10/25

Dear Wednesday,

Y/N has been helpful with our search for the Hyde, I think I’m going to take her along with my searches at night so she can help me lure the creature. I’m getting one step closer everyday she tags along. Her and I search the forests of Jericho till 2 hours after midnight sometimes.

10/28

Dear Wednesday,

Something in my chest tells me that Y/N is growing more tired by the day. I’m starting to feel worried. I shouldn’t let her abilities get out of control, shouldn’t let her stay so late knowing that she’s probably 2 times more exhausted than I am. 

-

It was true, Wednesday had noticed that you began to feel drained out. 

At first, they were small things, not fully comprehending a conversation, a small yawn every half hour or so. 

But then Wednesday would see the bags under your eyes, your dozing off in class, missing out on Nevermore events. 

Yet you still came with her every Hyde search. You felt like wanted you to come so she could talk to you, and if it was, sleep was something you could push aside.

And before she knew it, you were at the wrong place at the wrong time when Wednesday was in her dorm, talking to Enid.

“She’s clearly tired, Weds, I think you should let her rest.”

“But I’m so close to finding-”

You peek through the door crack.

“She’s only tagging along on the searches because she wants to be with you,” Enid says, her voice assuming. “Don’t you think you should stay with her here for one night so she can recharge? I know you like being with-”

“Enid, your reasoning is incorrect.” Wednesday mumbles, trying to deny what Enid wanted to imply. “I’m solely focused on finding out who the Hyde is, and Y/N is the only person who can do that for me. She’s one of the only students in this school that can do it. I’m not taking her because of my preferences.”

But even Wednesday’s voice was unsure, because she felt that deep inside, there was something lodged inside of her that enjoyed your late night thoughts.

That wasn’t the case for you as you bit your lip as Wednesday went on. “I don’t see anything in her-”

Your heartbeat was erratic, anxious. You were so blinded by her that you couldn’t even tell she was using you. She didn’t even like you.

Before you could hear more, you slipped back into the shadows, silently promising yourself that you’d shut yourself from everybody tonight, from her. just like how you always would so you could be alone.

-

Wednesday knew something was up. The next few days went by in a haze. 

You would avoid her in the hallways, look at anywhere but at her during class, give her tight lipped; one response answers to her questions.

A day became a few, and Wednesday felt like she had done something wrong. She couldn’t help but realize how much she missed your stupid grin and the completely immersed look on your face whenever she was talking. 

You didn’t go out to help her search for the Hyde anymore. You didn’t know if she had even gone on her journeys.It seemed like most times when you weren’t in school, you were sleeping. But Wednesday never believed that was what it was.

Night approached, and soon enough, the raven haired girl pulled up her snood and crept out the gates of Nevermore. She had heard small pitter patters behind her as she kept her eyes straight forward. “You’re not coming, Thing. Not today.”

Thing makes a snap of protest, still following her and she stops in her tracks. “No, go. I don’t need your help, I can do this on my own.”

In the midst of the night, the Addams disappear into the deep ends of the forest, a sniffling Hyde not far behind.

-

“What the hell do you mean she went out alone? It’s like, the coldest of the month and she didn’t even bother to take somebody with her?” You stared Thing down, your voice hoarse from trying to whisper loudly.

You shouldn’t be worried, she could take care of herself. 

You just couldn’t get the stupid nagging feeling in your chest that something bad would happen. The same feeling that you felt in the afternoon that kept bothering you, the reason why you wanted to check up on her to find her gone.

“Well, Enid’s out with Yoko, and I don’t think anyone knows about Wednesday’s shenanigans except us.”

You walk out to the open balcony from Wednesday’s dormitory and look out. “What about we just go check on her? Not like I have anything to do anyway.”

Thing shakes his fingers incredulously. 

“You can tag along to make sure I’m okay,” you sigh out.

-

You were only wearing a sweater, minus the fact you were holding Wednesday’s jacket with you so you could give it to her when you saw her. You didn’t want to have her freeze to death.

“It’s a little creepier than I remembered,” you say to your little companion. “Darker, too.”

The rustle of leaves sound here and there, the air blowing right through your clothes as you shiver. You keep Thing closer, wrapping him in Wednesday’s hoodie.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you murmur, “you’re basically like any other naked hand and I’m making sure you don’t freeze either, I’ll be fine, got a tanktop under this.”

A very thin one.

The leaves rustling and skidding of footsteps grow closer, a heavy pant sounding in the distance. The breeze, you think.

You keep walking forward, “Wednesday?” The flashlight that you’re controlling, floating next to you skitters around each tree.

“Is it me, or do I not remember hearing other footsteps half the time we searched for the Hyde?” You joke, Thing now clinging onto you.

“Wait a fucking minute.”

The last time you heard footsteps that weren’t yours or Wednesday was when you had first seen the Hyde. 

You look down at the hand with a dawn of realization as the flashlight drops to the ground from your anxiety. And suddenly do you take account of the ground beneath you shaking as the Hyde approaches, its eyes tracking you in the dead of night.

Your wide eyes meet his as your feet take off.

No longer than 30 seconds later does a crying scream ring through the woods.

-

“What the hell do you mean she went out alone?” Wednesday yells, panicking, her heart going miles per minute as a worried Enid stands in the room awkwardly. Her hands trail through her cheeks, thinking, thinking. “I shouldn’t have gone out tonight, I should’ve known-”

Her snood was basically hanging off her shoulder as she tosses it to her bed and runs out to look through the balcony.

“Wednesday, let’s think this through, maybe she didn’t go into the forest-”

“Enid Sinclair, it’s 12:39 AM and you think Y/N and Thing would magically disappear to do something like go get a fucking sandwich?”

“I’m sure they’re okay, they’re together. And come on, you know that she’s been with you endless times before.”

“But she hasn’t came for like 2 weeks! I don’t even think I had gone out searching for the Hyde-”

“I think she’s still upset at you,”

“I know,” Wednesday says, sighing. She doesn’t know why you had gone out tonight, but she was worried.

After short moments of making quick decisions, Wednesday tugs Enid’s hand out of their dorm. “We need to go, I can’t lose her–them.”

..

It had been 10 minutes of searching and no sign of you or Thing. 

Gosh, where are you? 

Wednesday is frantically calling out your name, searching through each tree, her restlessness just growing more. Her eyes that were pointed straight around and ahead of her don’t take account of the flashlight. Her feet are just about to trip on till she actually feels herself tripping.

Her hands are filled with dead leaves as she squints in the pale moonlight, taking notice of a flashlight.

Your flashlight.

She holds it between her palms as she bites her tongue hard, forcing herself to move forward. 

After a few long moments, Wednesday’s wide eyes can be seen in the night as they meet your quivering body curled up against the leaves.

Wednesday doesn’t pay attention to Thing, who's laying atop of you and moving around frantically. She doesn’t pay attention to how badly you're shaking. She only notices how there’s a large gaping scratch tore against your chest that blood trickled out of.

“Why would you go out alone? It’s freezing,” Wednesday says, her voice higher than she could control, her vision messy.

Your hand comes to rest atop of your wound, “I could say the same for you,” you joke softly, but she isn’t rolling her eyes or showing any emotion. 

Instead, her lips are quivering and her eyes are searching all over you. You were wearing her jacket. She would’ve found it amusing, something that made her feel a little happy. But nothing.

“I just felt like I needed to know you were okay,” you say, your eyes drifting in and out. 

“I thought you were dead,” she choked out, picking you up as she realizes just how much blood you’ve lost. It was all over her hands. “Don’t do that ever again, I’m serious. Or else I’ll handle you myself.” The addams says incoherently, shaking the tears out as Enid and Thing follow close behind.

“Wednesday Addams actually cares,” you say, trying to crack another joke with a weak voice.

“Shut up,” Wednesday says, but her voice is raw, not stopping the tears that escape her eyes.  “Just shut up, it’s tiring you out and I can’t have you risking passing out.

She can’t shake the feeling that she’s losing you. 

After a few moments of silence, Wednesday looks back down at your closed eyes. “Wait, Y/N, I didn’t mean it, no please keep talking. You have to keep talking so you can’t go to sleep. Shit, please.” She turned corners, you were so cold. “If you die, I’m not digging a grave for you,” she rasped, trying to keep her demeanor, though it already had fallen.

She keeps shaking you until you make a confused noise, your blood all over her jacket.

Your eyes were half open as you gave her a half-smile. “You’re so bossy, Addams.” Your voice trails off, eyes hazy, not knowing where you were at this point anymore.

Wednesday clutches you closer to her, running past the gates of Nevermore.

-

The beeping of the monitor beside you served as the braided girl’s lifeline. Her hair was tousled, messed up, but there were more things important than her hair, anyway.

Wednesday turned away from it, looking at your resting face. 

“If you died, I would’ve dug a grave for you,” she said, her voice small. “I would’ve dug one and probably not even attend if it meant knowing that I had lost you. Probably would’ve sat next to it for days.”

You give her a silent breath, unconscious.

Thanks.

The next few days, Wednesday had read you her letters. 

“I feel like I should share them with you,” she said, not expecting a response as she flips through the pages. “You are the reason that I’ve started them.”

She reads the pages out loud to your sleeping form, like a night time story.

Her eyes trace each word she had written, ‘I don’t like people touching me. But Y/N makes me not so sure. Her hands are like a soft murmur of sweetness I’m not used to.’

‘She makes me realize how big of a heart somebody can have’

‘I learned a song for her’

‘I learned a poem for her’

‘I wrote a poem for her’

‘She’s like the sun, her personality. I don’t really know how much I need it until I come here all dead. Then she comes and it’s like everything is okay again.’

-

“You better heal faster,” Wednesday says impatiently, sitting next to you. “I said I was sorry almost thirty seven times, I just don’t like sounding stupid in front of other people, even as much as I want to.”

“I literally am dying,” you respond, her words cracking a smile on you nonetheless. You look at the black dahlias on your bedside.

Her hair was down, rolling her eyes. “Well you’ve wasted enough of my time.” She said, though she didn’t mean it. She’d take more days off so someone could look after you.”

“Oh, careful Addams,” you say, putting a hand up in front of you. “Someone might think you’re worried about me,” you whisper.

She takes your hands in hers–her hands are like a soft murmur of sweetness I’m not used to. “Well, I’m not. And if someone thinks that, you better make a piece of tape fly to their mouth,” she says, in denial as she turns away from you.

But you had already seen another side of her. The side that you knew always existed in her. The side that was vulnerable, the quiet weeps of worry when you were close to death, the letters that expressed her apologies.

“Well you already have one person,” you say, your little finger poking her chest. She huffs, but her lips twitch up, “I think you’re hallucinating, then.”

She was glad you were okay. Would she have been months ago? She didn’t know. Would she have crawled into your hospital bed and let you rest against her months ago? Maybe not. But she was now.

Somewhere between the blurred lines, Wednesday Addams had fallen for you.

-

author's note- this was meant to have a angst ending but unfortunately i didn't want people to be sad

[nouvxllev]

skill issues

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x G!p!Reader

Summary: in which you got reeled into a bandwagon of a fps game by mindy, anika, and chad.

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: smut. just pure smut.

a/n: i just love the idea of tara carpenter being a clingy partner (also my first time writing just a chapter full of smut.)

masterlist.

The clock ticked midnight. Probably even pass that. Actually, you didn't know anymore. Whatever was on your mind was completely erased and replaced by tiny pixels moving in your screen.

Ever since you've joined Tara's friend group, you've also been reeled into a bunch of activities they do on a daily basis. To binge watching scary movies you've begged them not to drag you in, to playing games they recommended to you.

You regret participating in the latter.

It's not like you were having fun, hell, you were having too much fun with this simple FPS mobile game they pulled you in, but the deep dark circles under your eyes were starting to show and you don't really eat anything except for the meals Tara cooks for you. Which are greatly appreciated by a kiss.

"Y/n, what the fuck!? I told you to cover me!" Mindy yelled over your headphones. Actually, it was Tara's headphones desperately lent over to you after days of quiet shouting that didn't really help.

You crouched in reply, knowing Mindy was spectating your character.

You killed, not one, not two, not even four people, but six at once in a group! 3 headshots and 3 body kills. You were pretty proud of yourself, honestly. You just started the game a few weeks ago and you're only getting better and better, you wanted to brag to Tara but she was fast asleep beside you. She was always beside you whenever you play those games with the group, cuddling you as you hold your phone up in the air, but she always ends up falling asleep when you do.

Chad laughs over his mic, "damn, we should've invited Y/n a long time ago. She's good at this game."

You laugh in response, bringing your voice to a whisper. "Even I didn't know I had this in me."

Ever since you and Tara finally made it official, you packed your things and said good riddance to your home and lived together with Tara. It was unexpected, even she was surprised by the spontaneous decision, but the two of you were happy in paradise. Not until you got dragged into the whole 'gaming with those two dipshits™ (by Tara Carpenter, of course.)'

"Anika—! Anika—Wait, shit Anika!" You scream, regrettably, while shooting the opposing team down. Obviously, the luck you had earlier had worn out and you were now staring down at your dead character, groaning.

"I didn't know they were there!" Anika apologized.

"Skill issue." Mindy chimed, you could tell she was leaning back in her chair, looking smug.

"Definitely." Chad blurted, a huff of air he let out.

You rolled your eyes. "Those who didn't carry the team with their 6-kill streak should actually shut up." You went back to the home screen after gg'ing the other team

"Another round?" You exclaimed, and the others cheerfully agreed in the background.

You forgot, for a split second, you were beside one of the most lightest sleepers in the world; your marvelous girlfriend Tara Carpenter. Someone could breathe in her vicinity and she'd almost immediately wake up. Which is why she's staring you down, burning holes in your neck, unimpressed look on her face.

"Y/n," she groaned, "I thought you'd be done by now."

You turned to look at her, and you could only hope it was the darkness fooling your eyes since Tara looked like she was about to scream if not for her reminding herself that you were her girlfriend.

You muted your mic, "One more round, I promise."

"You always say that." She whispered, her arms wrapping around your waist as you were sitting up and you almost melted in her arms, a sigh you let out.

You let your other hand let go of your phone and let your hand relax on her head, soothing her worries of you being on the verge of being one of those mentally unstable gamers who discarded their whole entire life.

Tara was still awake, you could tell by how she tilted her head slightly to look up at you and back to whatever game it is you were so engrossed in.

It was only a few seconds later before Mindy, Anika, and Chad were screaming into the mic and telling eachother to "defend, defend, defend!" or just curse at eachother.

And you, of course, was just resting in paradise while your girlfriend watches over you with half-lidded eyes. But you could tell she was trying to be awake.

You were getting into that headspace where your luck with getting kills increased, and damn were you so happy you could basically convince yourself you were the next top player at this game.

That was until you fumbled over a sniper shot, your finger slipping and your character dying. Your friends were yelling, laughing, but you couldn't focus. Not when Tara's hand was placed firmly on top of your cock.

You froze in place, your eyes, not focused on the screen anymore, but focused on somewhere in the darkness of your room. Her fingers tracing lazy circles around your clothed bulge, only getting larger the more she teases you.

You muted your mic, your hands clutching your phone as you suck in a moan. "Tara, wait, I'm—"

"—Playing?" She finished, looking up at you with her doe-eyes you knew you could never resist. "I'm sure you can play perfectly fine." She replied, her fingers sliding into the waistband of your shorts. You ultimately regretting, and thanking, that you weren't wearing anything underneath.

You were big, you haven't measured it yourself, but Tara worshipped it like it was (and is) so that was enough for confirmation. The tip of your cock was immediately leaking with pre-cum, and it didn't help when Tara kept stroking it, taking her time to graze her thumb along the head.

"Aren't you going to continue playing?" She looked at you, doe eyes and all as if she wasn't giving you the most perfect and maddening handjob you've ever received.

There was something in her voice, something that made you go fucking insane. And something that made you click that respawn button, playing it off as if nothing was happening down below.

You were desperately trying to get a kill, the amount of times you've pressed that damn respawn button was embarrassing. But how could you focus when the most prettiest girl was wrapping her warm lips around the tip of your dick, her hands taking care of the inches that wasn't in her mouth. Yet.

She removed her mouth away from your cock, a soft whine escaping your lips at the loss of contact, but then she adjusted her position. Her body going in between your thighs as she spreads them apart.

You almost, almost, went to heaven when she immediately reattached her soft lips to your dick and slowly started to go deeper.

It was almost pathetic how your hips bucked and your head was thrown back, your eyes rolling in pleasure.

And only a few seconds passed until she was bobbing her head up and down on your cock, her free hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Fuck, that turned you on even more.

You contemplated throwing the game, hell, even your phone, but Tara dug her perfectly manicured nails into your thighs when you were starting to put your phone down.

"Y/n, you're getting out of your game!"

"Noticed."

"I bet 20 bucks she's getting laid by Tara, right now."

The three of them, in order, Chad, Anika, and Mindy all teasing you for getting your dick sucked in the middle of the game. But you didn't care, at all. You didn't have enough trust in yourself to unmute and to deny all sayings, that were 100% true by the way, without having to hold back a moan.

"Fuck, Tara..." You manage to say in a whimper, your hand, which was supposed to be playing the game, was grabbing a handful of Tara's hair. Helping her take in what's left of you, and soon enough, her nose reached your chest, gagging a little bit in the process.

You were going crazy.

It was then you couldn't take it anymore. You grabbed her hair, a bit more forcefully, and started to shove yourself back and forth into her mouth. Your hips bucking and gradually getting speed. You could see how her eyes and jaw widened to take more of you. Spit and pre-cum dripping all over her mouth as she looked at you, tears staining her eyes while she closed them whenever she hit the base, gagging all over your cock.

You can feel your legs begin to shake, your head throwing back and your eyes rolling. But that didn't stop you from absolutely railing Tara's mouth against your dick until you've emptied yourself inside of her, forcing her to swallow all of your load.

A minute passed before you slowed down your movements, pulling an exhausted Tara out of your cock. She looked at you dumb, your own cum smeared all over her lips as a grin adorned her abused lips.

"I guess we can say I'm better than that stupid game you're always playing." She rasped, her voice hoarse.

"You did this because you were... jealous of me playing a game?" You chuckled, clearly out of breath. It was cute if you weren't so turned on by the fact Tara was looking at you like that.

She brought her hand up to her mouth, wiping away the excess cum with her thumb and licking it off. "I just wanted to tease you, baby."

You thought that was the end of it, not until Tara threw your phone and headphones away and started to climb on top of you, your still hardened cock right on top of her clit. You didn't even notice she wasn't wearing anything underneath as well until now.

"I'll get you a new one—" she breathed, "I promise. Just, please." She whimpered, god, fuck, you were going insane. "Just fuck me."

And that was everything you needed you hear.

You immediately flipped her around, "Y/n, what the FUCK!—" she screamed as you drilled your cock into her, your hips pulling out your dick and fully slamming it back into her pussy. A broken moan coming out of her lips.

"Shit... Tara, you're driving me crazy." Was all you could mutter before you went faster, your hands going to her hips to hold her steady, and your eyes were focused on your cock easily sliding in and out of her puffy folds, taking all of you at once while Tara could only moan, a new freshly coat of cum taking over your dick.

The way she squeezed around you, milking your cock for all it's worth, made you dizzy and your head start to spin. But that didn't stop you from completely destroying her bit by bit, aiming to break her down.

You pulled her closer to you, your hands going up to her shoulders and aggressively ramming her body against your shaft as if it wasn't so deep enough already. Tara couldn't say, mutter, or even speak a single sentence at this point.

You were fucking her dumb, and shit you loved it.

Your hands slithered up from her shoulders to her neck, lightly choking her before turning her head to you.

"You're so pretty like this, baby. So gorgeous and perfect." You muttered in her ear, every word coming to a hard thrust as Tara's mouth opened, attempting to say something but only coming out as a pathetic moan. "You wanna be fucked like a slut? Be fucked dumb out of your mind?"

Sliding your hands on her back, you pressed down firmly to create the perfect arch as her head was buried into the soft mattress, her hands curling up into a ball as she sobbed with pleasure. You can hear her moaning your name over and over again, screaming and sobbing muffled by the soft pillow under her.

"Answer me, Tara."

"Yes, please!" She pleaded, "God, oh my god." She gulped, her head falling back as she reached her second orgasm, her walls clamping down on your cock and cum dripping down from her abused and assaulted pussy.

Her legs gave up, but you didn't. You continued to ram into her, without a care that she was near peak exhaustion and her sobs were becoming more frequent. Your freehand that wasn't pressing down on her back going over to her clit, overstimulating her.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," you groaned, "Tara..."

"Cum'n me." She said, breathless, "please. Please, please, please, please—"

After that last plead, you came in her. Your body still thrusting into Tara as you lean towards her, "I love you. I love you so much, my favorite girl." You muttered, pressing kisses all over her cheeks and lips as she breathed for air. But that sweet moment didn't stop you from resuming to pound into her as if it was your last day on earth.

You kept your cock inside of her, pistoning it in and out as you stretched her pussy till it's limit. Until it recognized the shape of your dick, which, you succeeded. The both of you continued until Tara reached her actual peak of exhaustion and collapsed.

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

When Tara woke up, she was sore. Sore as fuck. Everything up and down from her head to toe was just relentless pain everywhere. That is, until she turned her head to see you just gazing at her. Softly. As if you didn't ruin her to pieces just hours before.

"Hey," you greeted her, a smile gracing your lips. Tara didn't realize, but you drew her a bath the second she passed out and took care of her yourself. Even changed her to her favorite outfit whenever she just wanted to lay around.

Tara smiled. Despite her sore legs, her sore everything actually, she still managed to cling onto you like a koala. Her arms crushing you as you hugged her back. "Hey." She whispered in your ear, kissing you gently. "Thanks, by the way. For taking care of me." She hugged you even tighter, which you reciprocated.

The two of you sat there for a few minutes, basking in eachothers presence and warmthness. Until you broke the silence. "Tell me the real reason." You pulled back from Tara's tight hug. (You tried to, she was unbudging.)

"I was." She raised an eyebrow, which you also reciprocated.

You chuckled. "I've been your girlfriend and bestfriend for a total of 3 years, Tara. You can't fool me."

She could almost roll her eyes right now if she wouldn't regret it later. "We haven't had sex in a while." She confessed, avoiding your eye contact. "Like, a whole month."

The adorableness there was to Tara Carpenter, the amazing girl you're blessed with, was beyond you. "You could've told me, Tara." You tucked a loose strand between her ear, "you know I like talking with you. Especially about something personal, or maybe something about in our relationship."

"I didn't know how to like," she paused, "really, really, express it." She explained, "also I couldn't since you were on that damn video game for weeks now!"

Yeah, you had to blame yourself for that. Or maybe the crew. "I solemnly swear to not play that game. Well, atleast that often." You held up your pinky, making a pinky promise that you always, always never broken in your life.

Tara chuckled, taking your pinky into hers. "Also your phone has been buzzing like crazy for the last few minutes."

"It's just Mindy bragging about she got rich because she was betting over our sex life."

"What!?" The younger Carpenter screamed.

"Don't worry too much about it." You shrugged it off. "Just a skill issue." You joked.

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

a/n: just needed to get this off my brain. idea popped into my head one random day and i've been thinking about it actually doing something about it, and it's probably something i need to do to take of my writers block!!

[letorip]

kiss with a fist

“you hit me once, i hit you back, you gave a kick, i gave a slap”

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: tara needs a favour from perhaps the person she hates most on earth, but it just ends up drawing the both of you closer together.

warnings: explicit sexual content, fake dating 🤯, enemies to lovers, contrived plot because ha ha ha

word count: 4.8k

A/N: kinda had a lot of fun with this one. might do a part two, might just leave it as is, but let me know. inspired by kiss with a fist by florence + the machine (duh), lovely night from la la land, and various other inspirations.

===+++===

===+++===

The moment your front door opened on its hinges, Tara Carpenter was pushing past you and barging straight into your apartment, stepping right over the threshold and checking you with her shoulder. You barely had a chance to process it, before she had wandered down the hall and into your kitchen in a blur.

You rolled your eyes, knowing you were in for an annoying ass conversation and slamming the door shut. “What do you want?” You called into your own apartment loud enough for her to hear you in the other room.

“Don’t be a prick about it. This is the last place I wanted to go,” she shot back, and you sighed to yourself in your dark hallway before fixing your hair in the mirror and following her inside. There was only about an hour of her bullshit you could put up with and then you’d be saved by the bell anyhow.

“Whatever happened to ‘hello,’ Tara?” You said, crossing your arms and coming in to against the doorframe. She had jumped up onto your counter, legs swinging and fingers gripping the edge of the blue ice glass tiles. In her left hand she picked up the bottle of wine you had left out next to some glasses and began to read the label.

"Lecture me later,” she said, not looking up at you, You were about to reply, or more aptly, tell her to get the hell out of your apartment, but she put the bottle down and narrowed her eyes at you, clearly struggling to say what she was really there for.

“Look, (Y/n), I need your help.” Ah. There it was.

"Hah," you scoffed without hesitation. "No."

She threw up her hands. "I didn’t even say what I was asking for.”

“Still, no. I’m not helping you.”

“Could you just not be an asshat for five minutes and listen to me? Like, is that too hard for you? Are you medically incapable?" She shot back.

"You're sitting on my counter. I didn't bust into your house and start making demands but here you are in mine,” you said.

"I'm asking for a favour," said Tara, raising her voice. "Asking."

"Wasn't much of a question though, was it," you replied. Maybe being a dick back to her would make her leave. She had always been able to dish it but never able to take it, and you wanted to make her. "You said 'I need a favour.' There's no question in that."

"No, I actually said I need your help, now would you shut up and listen?"

You scowled. "Y'know, I'm not really in a helpful mood tonight."

"Like you have something better to do,” Tara scoffed, raising her eyebrows at you.

"And what if I do?"

"Then I'd say you're lying. What, you don’t want to help me because you’re watching your stupid show, or reading or something?” she challenged back, getting up off your counter and walking towards you. You straightened up, glaring down at her. She only came up to about your chest, but the short girl still did her best to seem intimidating.

With you she always frustratingly failed to even make the smallest dent, though that probably stemmed from the fact you could pick her up and punt her like a football if you wanted to. On the days she managed to really piss you off, the thought grew more enticing.

"For your information, I was supposed to have a date," you said. Tara blinked at this, looking down from your stupid face. You wore a thick black turtleneck and some pleated black pants that hung stylishly from your waist. The wine made sense now, and Tara felt like an idiot.

“What’d you pay them?” she clapped back, covering for the feeling of intense heat rising to her cheeks. This was humiliating. She had come begging for your help of all people- you, and now she had nothing to show for it but the stupid, smug look on your stupid, smug face.

“Ha ha,” you said, dryly. “Get out.”

“No.”

“Yes,” you insisted.

"So you're busy then…” she trailed off.

“Yes.”

“Nooo,” she groaned, throwing up her hands in frustration.

You weren't sure what it was, maybe the pout of her lip or the shining of her eyes, but you shut your own for a second and let out a sigh. "Why? What's the favour?"

Tara shook her head in a generally amusing display of defeat. "It's whatever. Have fun on your date," she said, heading for the door and trying to brush past you, but you reached your arm across the doorway, stopping her from going.

"No, what's-" you stopped, rolling your eyes upon realising you were about to help Tara Carpenter of all people- "What's the favour, Tara?" Her face instantly lit up with a bright, beaming smile, the exact opposite of what it had been before, and it suddenly occurred to you she had been playing you like a fiddle.

"Oh my god, you're actually helping for once! Did you finally wake up on the right side of the bed?”

"Don't push it," you muttered. "I don't even know what I'm agreeing to, yet."

"See, about that..." she trailed off.

"What.”

“We have to make Sam really, really mad.”

"What?”

"Yeah..."

You shook your head at her. "Never mind. I'm not helping you anymore."

"What!?"

"You're trying to get me murdered," you said. "I don't have a death wish."

Tara was fully frustrated now, dark eyes fiery and staring up at you in the candle lighting. “You don’t even know what it is you’re doing to make her mad yet!”

“Doesn’t matter, if it’s Sam I don’t want to do it.”

“It would be a big help!” Tara said, clasping her hands in front of her like a prayer. You narrowed your eyes at her, more upset her expression and clear desperation was actually working on you, and that you felt compelled to help this idiot with an undoubtedly idiotic plan.

“What are you trying to do?”

Tara jumped up and down in excitement, smiling widely in a way you had rarely seen her. “Okay! Okay, so Sam said last month that she didn’t want me going to parties and meeting people because she was worried they were murderers.”

“Uh huh,” you said.

“Buuut, she said I could go if I had someone always with me. Like, someone with me that she approved of. So I didn’t wander off to hook up or drink, which is, y’know, the actual fun ‘college party’ stuff.”

“Uh huh.”

“The thing is though, that if I had a ‘partner,’” she raised her fingers to put quotes around it, “then Sam wouldn’t need to worry about me doing that, because she’d assume I’d be with them, hanging out, or even if we did go to a party, it would be together. Buddy system style.”

You raised your eyebrows, realising where this was probably going. “Uh huh?”

“Which is where you’d come in. Sam wouldn’t trust just anybody, if I told her I was seeing someone. But she would trust someone from our group, who she knows for sure isn’t going to murder me. And you- as fucking annoying as you are- are exactly that.” She had a twinkle in her eyes when she explained it to you, and you realised Tara had probably been plotting this- or at least considering it- for a while now, the little devil.

“You really expect Sam to believe we can tolerate each other?” You asked, squeezing your arms tighter against your chest. “She knows how much I hate you, and only person I hate more is her.”

“Trust me, I’ve complained about you to her too,” she rolled her eyes. “But you were literally my only option. Call it a romance of passion. We only ‘hated’ other to cover up for our real feelings or whatever. Sam doesn’t have to like you but she definitely trusts you.”

“How romantic,” you wrinkled your nose, disgusted by the suggestion. “Wait, why am I your only option? Chad is right there, he’s already in love with you and everything. He’s like the built-in boyfriend.”

She winced. “See, I thought about that. But I just know it would probably hurt him, with the hooking up and it not being real. He probably wouldn’t feel too great about me ‘cheating’ on him.” Tara did the finger quotes around it again and you let out a whistle.

“Wow, so you do have a heart.”

She scoffed. “More than you do. Besides, we only need to pretend to be together until I find someone actually tolerable. After that, you’re free again.”

“I had a date tonight,” you narrowed your eyes at her.

“But you’re still here talking to me for some reason?” She raised her eyebrows at you. “And the way you said ‘had’ I’m thinking you don’t anymore.” Tara could be annoyingly perceptive sometimes. She always seemed to zero in on the way you spoke or what you said.

“I wasn’t too excited for it anyways,” you grumbled, and Tara laughed, realising she had been correct and being all too pleased with herself. She clasped her hands together.

“Well then. Are you going to help me, or are you going to glare at me some more?”

“The second one sounds really appealing right now,” you shot back.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be too proud of an asshole to admit this is a great plan.”

“It’s a terrible plan, and it’s absolutely going to fail when Sam tries to murder me.”

“But you didn’t say no.”

You looked at her for a long minute, contemplating if this was really the path you were going to go down. You let out a sigh, shaking your head. “I’ll do it. But you’ll sure as hell owe me.”

“Yeah yeah,” Tara waved you off, beaming from ear to ear. “Great! We’re going on a double date with her and Danny this Friday.”

“What?!” Your mouth dropped open.

“Yep,” she said, annoyingly skipping down your hallway. “I’ll text you the address and time!” she said.

“Now wait a minute-” you called after her, but she had already latched open your door and left, leaving you to watch her go. Fuck, this would end terribly. You sighed again, taking out your phone to cancel your date.

===+++===

This was so unbelievably stupid. The longer you stood outside the Italian restaurant, the more you regretted agreeing to help her.

The restaurant was nice at least, with giant marble stones and dark red accents, and you could see through the massive float glass windows that the lighting mostly featured romantic candles and potted floribunda roses against dark wood. It would ironically be the most expensive date you ever had, and you realised that with bitter sentimentality.

Tara was late, like always, and you had begun to pace along the sidewalk, tracing the cracks with the centre of your shoe while you waited for her. It was boring, out on the street, and the more couples that passed you and walked right inside, the more nauseous you felt. You grabbed your phone out of your pocket, thumbing over the cracked display.

She was ten minutes late. You swiped open your text messages, still seeing nothing from her.

are you here yet???

You sent the message hastily, waiting for the typing icon to pop up or even show that she read it, but nothing. Suddenly the screen lit up and your phone started vibrating it, and you almost dropped it in surprise. “Fuck,” you cussed quietly, seeing the call incoming screen and Little Shit (do not pick up) appear at the top. You frowned, hitting the green button and accepting the call.

“Where the hell are you??? I don’t know if you noticed but we’re late,” you immediately said into the phone, aware of just how annoyed you sounded.

“Relax,” replied Tara on the other end of the line, and you could hear her eye roll from here. “Danny is a late guy too, Sam gets on him all the time for it.”

“Yeah well, I’m standing outside waiting for your late ass.” You felt someone awkwardly push past you and you winced, spinning around to usher them an apology.

“I’ll be there in a minute, I had to pick something up,” she dismissed you. “Just don’t let Sam and Danny see you. I told them we were showing up together.”

“Well how the hell am I supposed to do that?” You frowned, looking around. There was a row of bushes off to the side but you were too tall and not at all willing to crouch behind them like an idiot.

“I don’t know. Figure. It. Out.” Tara spoke slowly like you were a child and you narrowed your eyes.

“Y’know, I’m doing you a favour?”

“Ha!” Tara exclaimed, and you hissed, pulling your ear away from the phone’s speaker at the loud noise. “So you admit, it was a favour!”

“Shut up and get your ass over here," you grumbled before hanging up shortly, looking around and wandering down a side alley. It smelled disgusting back there, in the ironic, almost-dark of sunset, and it would've been a lovely night to take a walk on, had it not been for wasting it on Tara of all people.

You pulled out a box of cigarettes from your pocket, fumbling one out and sticking it between your lips. You stuck the box back in your pocket and pulled out your fancy lighter that had your name engraved on the side, thumbing over the lettering for a moment before lighting the cigarette and sticking it between your two fingers.

It felt stupid, to standing there next to the dumpster and watching some rats scurry by, but you let out a huff of smoke, remembering how much Tara had seemed excited for the parties and having fun. You didn't like her very much, nor could you really claim to be much of a saint, but you weren't a monster either.

"What are you doing??" called a voice from the end of the alley, and you spun to see Tara near the line of bushes with a bouquet of flowers in her hands. She had her eyes narrowed at the cigarette, looking frustrated.

"Having a smoke. Why, want one?"

She let out a sigh of exasperation, marching straight up to you. "You can't go on a double date with my sister smelling like cigarette smoke. You know she hates that kind of stuff."

"I've smoked with her, before. Her and Mindy," you argued, pulling it from your lips to take a breath in. "I've literally given her cigarettes."

Tara glared at you, taking it from your hand and crushing it under her heel. "Yeah, well, she still hates you, and now that we're allegedly 'dating' it's different. We can't give her any reason not to trust us, and you smoking cigarettes is going to make her think I'm going to start smoking cigarettes."

You shrugged. "If she hates me so much, then she's never gonna let us 'hang out' alone or go to parties anyway."

"No, she-" Tara rolled her eyes. "She hates you, but she sure as hell trusts you. Enough to babysit me."

"Fine. What's with the flowers?" you asked, crossing your arms.

"You got them for me," Tara shrugged. "Pinnacle of romance."

You whistled to be funny, but it was a little bit impressive that she had planned that out. The plan wasn't especially well thought out, but she at least had her moments of surprising intelligence, which you couldn't begrudge her.

"Well then," she frowned. "Let's go, lover." She clutched the flowers in one hand and slid her arm to interlock with yours. You narrowed your eyes but started to walk her in.

"Don't call me that. It's weird," you muttered.

"Get used to it. Tonight we're the happiest couple on planet Earth."

The restaurant was somehow even nicer on the inside than it had been on the outside. Tara gripped your hand, tugging you along with her as she headed towards Sam and Danny's table and followed the waiter, but you were looking a little dumbfounded at the marble columns and Italian frescos painted to the walls and roof.

You made your way back, led into a giant room with a lot of people. Danny sent you a welcoming wave when they saw you; Sam looked like she was about ready to blow a gasket. She stared at you, eyeing you up and down and then lasering in on the bouquet in Tara's hands with a frown.

"Did you tell her your secret partner was me???" you whispered to Tara as you approached.

She smirked evilly. "Nope."

Fucking amazing. "Hey guys!" Danny said, friendly and open. He seemed just thrilled to be there, while Sam seethed right next to him. Tara smiled right at her sister, gesturing for you to sit next to her.

"Sorry we were late," Tara says, a little awkward but trying to seem comfortable. "We were, um..." she looked at you for help.

You blanked, throwing out the first thing you could think of. "Kissing!"

Sam nearly spit out her water, eyes widening at staring at you. Tara whipped to you, jaw slack and you sent her a sorry glance. Improv was not your thing by any means.

"Um," Danny blinked at you. "No worries. You're here now," he said with an awkward smile. His hand went to Sam's, trying to give it a comforting squeeze, but she looked like she wanted to jump over the table and then jump you. She was glowering.

"So," she said, eyes narrowed. "How long has 'this,'" she gestured between you and Tara, "been a thing?" She looked at you intensely, and you looked to Tara, trying to shrug it off. You both laughed, playing the part of the happy couple.

"Oh, a month," you said.

"Two months," Tara said, at the exact same time. Fuck.

You tried not to glare at each other. "Well, which is it?" Sam squinted at her sister, and Tara sent a kick at your leg under the table. Your knee hit the bottom of the table with a painful 'thud,' and it took everything in you to not yell out in pain from your knee cap hitting the wood.

You tried to smile it off. "Tara just said two months, because we went on a few study dates, but it wasn't official until a month ago."

"So two months then," Sam said, crossing her arms on the table.

"I get it," Danny said, nodding. "I'm bad at dates and stuff too," he laughed a bit. "I almost forgot how long Sam and I had been together after our four month anniversary." You nodded, sending him your best grin. Sam didn’t look too happy about that either, though.

"Yeah, long day, I guess." Tara said next to you, sending you her best smile, her hand coming up to rub your back. It was weird, having her this close, but you put on your best face, as if she touched you all the time.

"You go to Blackmore too, right?" he asked, and you nodded. "What do you study?"

"I'm in architecture," you replied. Finally, something you could talk about without feeling like you were crossing a minefield. From the corner of your eye, you could still see Sam staring you down with suspicion.

"Oh! That's awesome!" Danny replied, taking a sip of wine from his glass. "I love architecture, it's interesting."

"Mhm," you nodded, looking over at Tara and smirking with just a hint of malicious glee. "I tease her- my degree is actually useful. People don't really like film majors. They usually smell bad."

"Do they?" he asked, genuinely curious, and you turned back, nodding.

"Yeah, it's an unfortunately common stereotype. Film majors are annoying, smelly-," your words were cut off, feeling Tara's nail dig into your back for revenge and trying to stifle a wince. She gave the table a fake giggle.

"Okay, that's enough out of you," she said, and you grinned, cursing her out in your head.

"Why didn't you tell me it was (Y/n), Tara?" Sam asked, leaning forwards and studying you both. She seemed a bit miffed with the whole situation. You sent each other fake smiles, as if you were about to share a secret.

"Well," she said, trying to seem excited. "We just didn't want anyone ruining it, really. It was kind of a secret, and we didn't know what it would turn into. But it's just...it's been so fucking magic."

"Magic. Mhm," you hummed in agreement, looking off into the distance and pulling out the menu. You were just a bit too hungry to keep up with the game for the moment. Seriously? she shot you a glare, and you snapped to attention. "It is genuinely one of the happiest times of my life," you rushed, quickly smiling and then dropping your attention back down to the menu to look at some pasta.

“Does Chad know?” Sam asked, sitting back and staring at you both. Tara shook her head.

“Not yet. I don’t want to hurt him, but really, (Y/n)’s the one for me.” This was also a little bit impressive. Tara seemed to be a far better actor than you were, and Sam just nodded, suspicious but trusting her sister’s words.

===+++===

The moment you walked down the block and out of Sam and Danny's eyesight, your hand dropped from Tara's. The sun was just about setting in the distance, and city traffic was starting to slow down a little.

"Oh. My. God. Her face!" Tara said, laughing. She keeled over, and you smiled a little, remembering Sam's look of disgust, but quiet monitoring of your hand clutching onto Tara's. She looked like a very conservative nun, witnessing a sin being performed in real time. It was a little funny, you had to admit, not that you'd ever be caught laughing along with her.

"Danny seems nice," you said, after you walked a little farther.

Tara nodded. "He's surprisingly not a douchebag. I thought he would be, like you or something, but he's not that bad for Sam."

You scoffed. "I'm not a douchebag."

"You definitely are," Tara said, shaking her head. "One month because it wasn't official? You said we were going on dates before then. That's definitely douchebag behaviour. Sam probably thought that meant you were seeing other people."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh," Tara said, rolling her eyes. "And 'kissing'??? Literally anything would've been better."

"I'm trying to help you, it's either this or nothing," you huffed in annoyance. "I'm not an on-the-spot person."

"Clearly," Tara said, shaking her head in overdramatic emphasis. She stopped suddenly and you jerked backwards, seeing her mess with her shoes.

"You good?" you asked, shoving your hands into your pockets.

"These damn shoes- making me walk home- god dammit," she grumbled, messing with the straps and the buckle on the side. You waited patiently, leaning against a stone wall as you waited for her to finish.

The sky above you had turned a deep purple, small hues of orange and pink in the form of clouds sitting at the edges. It was really something, and you stopped to watch it, whistling. Tara jerked upwards, planting her foot down to stomp her shoe into place.

"What is it?" she asked.

"The sky," you said, and she craned her neck up to watch it with you. "It's just really beautiful tonight."

She hummed for a moment before looking back to you. "It's a shame I'm spending it with you, of all people," Tara snorted. "I'm sure this would be romantic to any other couple."

"It would probably really be something," you said absentmindedly, looking up in thought. "A real waste on you and me though."

"Glad we agree," she said, leading the way. You and her had taken a separate path from Danny and Sam under the guise of getting some ice cream, but neither of you were willing to pay for it. Instead, you had to figure out what you would do with ten extra minutes.

"Do you want to cross?" you asked, gesturing to the other street, she nodded and you walked up, pressing the button. When you turned back to her, her nose was wrinkled.

"What?"

She shrugged. "Nothing. You just hit the button weird."

"What?" you blinked at her. "How can someone 'hit the button weird'?"

"I don't know, but you, like, pushed it weird. With your fingers."

You rolled your eyes. "Do you have a problem with everything I do?"

“Yep,” she nodded back. “It’s annoying.”

You guys kept walking in silence for the next block or two, making a square so that you could return to Sam and Tara’s apartment together. The sun had disappeared now and faded into night, and when you turned the corner to split off, she tugged on your arm.

“Hey wait, you have to walk me home.”

“What?” you raised your eyebrows at her.

Tara shrugged. “You have to, to make Sam think we’re dating.”

You blinked at her. “But we live on opposite sides of the city.”

“Still.”

“Tara if I walk you home I’ll miss the last train,” you grumbled. “That’s a long ass walk.”

“Cmon, we have to or she won’t believe it.”

You frowned. “You’re paying for my cab then.”

She sighed. “Fine, but come on.”

She tugged you down the long strip by the hand, stopping suddenly, a block from her apartment. “Here wait,” she said, turning to you. “Give me your jacket.”

“What?” you raised your eyebrows at her. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Oh just do it, do you have to argue about everything?”

You took it off with a glare, handing it to Tara. She tried to slide it on but it was massive on her, so she bunched up the sleeves. With the flowers in her hand and your jacket, it definitely looked like you two had gone on a date.

She grabbed your hand again, pulling you forwards along the street and smiling brightly in case anyone looked out the window and saw you both. It felt a bit odd to be playing dress up, but it was helping someone out, so you didn’t begrudge her on getting you to smile either.

“Wait wait wait,” Tara said, stopping abruptly.

You groaned. “Now what.”

She pulled you to the side, near a row of shrubs that sat next to the red brick of her apartment building. “Sam’s watching us through the window.”

You turned your head, trying to see for yourself, and there she was, hanging right out the window and watching you with intense suspicion.

"Don't look at her!" Tara snapped at you, whispering with a glare. You rolled your eyes.

"What do you want me to do then, Tara?"

She frowned, biting her lip while she thought. She gave you a grimace. "We need to do, like, a goodnight kiss or something."

You glared at the suggestion. "I think I'd rather die."

"Trust me, I don't want to either," she said, glowering right back at you. "But if we do this now, we won't have to ever again."

You thought for a moment. She'd probably taste disgusting anyways, and then it would just confirm what you already knew- you hated Tara Carpenter. "Fine. Just convincing enough though."

"Okay," she nodded. When neither of you made a move to close the distance, she frowned. "Do like, a countdown or something?"

"A fucking countdown," you repeated. "We're not five."

"Just do it!" she demanded, glaring again.

"Okay, fine, Jesus Christ. Three...," your face moved a bit closer to hers. "Two," you muttered quietly, still leaning in. "One," you said, and then Tara pushed her face onto yours.

It was a chaste kiss, probably sprouting from the fact that neither of you especially wanted to do it. Her lips were softer than you expected them to be and her breath nowhere as near as it would be in your head. You pulled away quickly, and there she was, smiling up at you in the fake way she had been at the restaurant.

"Party next Friday?" she asked. "Now that Sam thinks we're together she won't care if I go. Just pick me up and we can go 'together.' Plus there's a cute kid from my film class who said she would be there."

You nodded. "Whatever."

"Great," she said with similar shortness, and she brushed right past you, heading into her building. You watched her walk off, making sure she got in the door safe. Sam was still looking at you from overhead, even when Tara had gone, and you could see Quinn standing behind her, looking with morbid curiosity.

It had never even crossed your mind to kiss Tara, just because of how annoying her personality was, and you would have rather died than admit it had been nice- that she had been nice for a night. Instead you turned around, walking off. You were sure Sam was still watching you, as you went.

===+++===

part two??? it shouldn't be too long before the next one, i had to split this up because it was getting insanely long and there's another half to the story. i didn't want this one to be like 8k words long, i'll just probably have another one that's 4-5k soon.

[thedemoninme141]

The Maiden Of Death PART 1.

Summary: They say opposites attract. But you? You weren’t her opposite. You were worse.

Part 1 -- Part 2-- Part 3- Part 4--Part 5

A/n: This is a new series, I actually had part 1 written like a month ago, But I didn't post it back then mainly because I won't write part 2 until I finish Her Heartbeat. I also am not really sure if you guys would like it, because its a bit dark. But I hope you do.

Pairings: Wednesday x Female reader. Warnings: Violence at the end but you guys would be satisfied by it lol.

She met you in fencing class.

As Wednesday was walking through the hallways of Nevermore, on her way to the fencing class, she couldn't help but question herself, why had she returned?

Sure, she had defeated Crackstone. Tyler was locked away, the Gates family’s legacy was ash. Yet, despite her apparent victory over the forces conspiring against Nevermore, Wednesday couldn’t shake the hollow feeling of anticlimax.

So why?

Perhaps it was the faint pull of unfinished business. The photos of a shadowy stalker she’d received at the end of her first year were an unsolved loose end, but even those now felt underwhelming. Whoever it was hadn’t made a move worth her attention in months.

Or maybe she was here because it gave her the chance to humiliate Bianca this time. That thought warmed her more than she cared to admit. Bianca had always been the most formidable opponent in fencing, her skill matched only by her infuriating arrogance. Wednesday lived for that. She would never say it aloud, but Bianca was the only opponent worth her time.

As she entered the fencing room, the chatter of students died down. The tension in the room was immediate, Wednesday didn’t need to look to know that all eyes were on her. She had always been the odd one in this class, the only one to don a fencing uniform as black as her soul while everyone wore the casual white.

But something was different today. She caught sight of a figure seated casually in one of the chairs lining the hall but the reason her eyes found this one so fast because they dressed entirely in black fencing gear, just like her. Their mask and helmet obscured any hint of identity.

For as long as she had fenced at Nevermore, she had been the only one to wear black. This was an intrusion.

Her gaze shifted to Bianca, and for the first time, Wednesday noticed blood dripping from the other girl’s left hand. It was a small, angry trickle, barely enough to warrant alarm, but the sheer fact of it was startling. Bianca never bled. Not in fencing. Her form was too precise, her reactions too swift.

“Wait, that’s not Wednesday?” Kent was the one to speak out.

The rest of the students murmured, their gazes bouncing between her and the stranger. Even the coach was a bit confused.

Wednesday’s curiosity deepened but she said nothing.

Her dark eyes flicked back to Bianca. The siren’s usual air of superiority was gone, replaced by something raw and bitter. Humiliation.

Bianca Barclay had been beaten, and beaten badly, by... whoever this was.

“Barclay,” The coach said, his voice cutting through the murmurs. “Infirmary. Now.”

Bianca huffed, her glare locked on the figure in black. If looks could kill, the stranger would have been reduced to ashes. But they remained unmoved, offering no reaction.

As Bianca passed Wednesday, she slowed, her lip curling in disdain. “Not one word,” she muttered, low enough that only Wednesday could hear.

Wednesday tilted her head, her tone as cool as ever. “Careful, Barclay. Your blood loss is showing.”

Bianca huffed but she said nothing, stalking out of the hall with as much dignity as she could muster.

Wednesday’s lips curved in the faintest of smirks. Whoever this person was, they had achieved something remarkable. The idea that someone could dismantle Bianca so thoroughly sparked a flicker of excitement deep in Wednesday’s chest, a sensation she quickly quashed.

The possibility of being bested was not one she entertained lightly, but the idea of such a challenge thrilled her in a way she couldn’t deny. It was rare to find someone who could match her ruthlessness, let alone surpass it.

Her gaze returned to the masked figure. They hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken, hadn’t even acknowledged the chaos they’d caused. They simply sat there, busy in their own world.

She took a step forward, “Who are you?” she demanded, her voice slicing through the tension like a blade.

The figure didn’t respond. Their silence was deliberate, unyielding.

Wednesday’s lips quirked into something resembling a smile, dark, challenging, hungry. “If you’re going to steal my aesthetic, the least you can do is prove you’re worthy of it.”

A murmur swept through the room. Someone let out a low whistle, and the coach frowned, clearly torn between maintaining order and allowing the drama to unfold.

“Addams, this is not the time for theatrics,” the coach started, but Wednesday silenced her with a raised hand.

“It’s not theatrics. It’s a challenge,” she said, her dark eyes fixed on the seated figure. “Unless you’re too afraid to accept.”

For a moment, the figure remained motionless. Then, slowly, they stood. The black fencing uniform clung to their frame, and the mask’s darkened mesh remained inscrutable. They stepped onto the fencing strip—silent, measured, and deliberate and Wednesday adjusted her fencing mask.

The room collectively held its breath.

The coach sighed, knowing full well he can't stop Wednesday.

“En garde.” he yelled.

With her perfect stance and razor-sharp mind, Wednesday raised her blade. A precision tool she had used innumerable times, the weight of her foil in her hand was reassuring. The other fencer, whose mask concealed any emotion, mirrored her movements with eerie grace across from her.

“Prêts,” the coach said.

Wednesday’s focus narrowed. Her heart beat steadily. She would rule. She did it every time.

“Allez.”

The duel began. Wednesday moved first, her blade darting forward in a testing thrust. Her opponent’s response was immediate, a deflection so swift it was almost imperceptible.

Wednesday pressed forward, her footwork precise and aggressive. She lunged again, trying to draw her opponent into a mistake. But the figure in black sidestepped, their movements fluid and economical. They struck back, their blade skimming past her guard with alarming speed. Wednesday barely parried and dodged in time.

A flurry of attacks and counters. Wednesday’s strikes were measured, calculated to exploit any opening. Yet her opponent offered none. It was as if they were reading her mind, anticipating her every move.

Her frustration grew, simmering beneath her stoic exterior. She was Wednesday Addams. She did not lose.

Then it happened. In a single, breathtaking motion, her opponent disengaged, their blade whipping around her guard to land a clean hit on her shoulder.

The coach’s voice rang out. “Point. 1-0.”

The room exhaled collectively. Wednesday’s grip on her épée tightened. Her eyes narrowed behind the mask. She had underestimated them. That was a mistake she wouldn’t make again.

They reset. The coach’s whistle blew. “Allez!”

This time, Wednesday took a defensive stance, watching her opponent closely. Their movements were fast, almost inhumanly so, but there was no sound—no labored breathing, no huffs of exertion. It was as though they weren’t human at all but a ghost sent to haunt her.

Their blade darted forward in the blink of an eye. Wednesday countered, attempting to draw them into a trap. But they saw through it, disengaging and circling to her left. She pivoted, parrying a thrust aimed at her torso, but their follow-up was too quick. The tip of their blade grazed her arm.

The coach’s voice rang out again. “Point. 2-0.”

Wednesday’s jaw clenched beneath the mask. The students murmured, the shock evident in their voices. Anger flared in her chest, hot and unwelcome. She was not accustomed to being outmatched like this.

The next round began. Wednesday forced herself to focus, she studied their movements, searching for a pattern, a weakness. Their strikes were precise, but even precision had its rhythm.

Then she saw it—a slight hesitation in their retreat, a fraction of a second where their weight shifted too far back. It was enough.

When they lunged, she was ready. She sidestepped, her blade sweeping upward in a controlled arc. The tip struck their shoulder.

"Point 2-1" The coach whistled.

For the first time, her opponent faltered. It was subtle, a small hesitation as they reset, but Wednesday caught it. The way they froze for a heartbeat, their head tilting slightly as if registering the touch, was fascinating. She couldn’t see their face, but she imagined what might lie beneath the mask. Surprise? Annoyance?

She allowed herself the faintest of smirks.

But the pause was brief. The stranger reset, their stance as flawless as ever. Wednesday narrowed her eyes, her grip tightening on her foil. If they can get hit, she can win. She just needs to be patient.

The whistle sounded again, and they moved.

This time, it was a storm. The stranger’s attacks came faster, sharper, each strike more relentless than the last. Wednesday parried and countered, her heart pounding in her ears as she tried to keep up. They weren't getting tired, and Wednesday for a fact understood, this was must be because one of their powers, Was it fair? No. But it was... maybe a lit... amusing.

For every move she anticipated, they had another waiting in line.

She refused to give ground, but her endurance was waning. Sweat prickled at the back of her neck, her breaths coming faster despite her efforts to control them. And then, just as she thought she might regain the upper hand, they struck.

The tip of their foil grazed her chest with clinical precision.

“Touché! 3-1."

The class went full silent, except a few gasphs.

Wednesday staggered back a step, her breath caught in her throat. She had lost. And it wasn’t luck or a fluke. It was a deserved victory. This opponent, whoever they were, was better.

Her gaze flicked to the masked figure, who was already lowering their blade, their movements as calm and unbothered as ever. They turned without a word, stepping off the fencing mat as if nothing extraordinary had happened.

Anger bubbled beneath Wednesday’s surface, sharp and unrelenting. Not just at her opponent, but at herself. She had lost, just as Bianca had.

But unlike Bianca, she wouldn’t accept it.

“Wait,” she said, the stranger paused mid-step but didn’t turn.

“I’m not finished.”

Taking off her gloves, Wednesday ripped off her mask, letting it drop to the floor with a loud clang. Her pale face, flushed faintly from exertion “One more match,” she said, “No helmets. No gloves. First blood.”

The figure paused mid-step. Slowly, they turned back to face her. The room held its collective breath as they reached up, removing their gloves with deliberate precision. Then, they raised their hands to their helmet and pulled it off.

Wednesday froze.

A cascade of hair fell free, framing a face that froze Wednesday in place. Deep blue eyes met hers, piercing and unreadable.

A girl.

For the first time in years, Wednesday Addams felt something foreign and unfamiliar. Her mind stumbled over itself, her usual composure shattered. She didn’t move, didn’t speak. She could only stare. The sharp lines of the girl’s face, the way her eyes seemed to see straight through her.

The girl’s expression was unreadable, her silence almost oppressive. Her gaze was sharp, piercing, but there was no mockery in it, no trace of satisfaction. It was as though the outcome of their first match had been irrelevant to her.

That infuriated Wednesday more than the loss itself.

The coach hesitated before stepping back and raising his hand. His voice wavered slightly as he called out, “En garde.”

Her grip of her foil tightened as she drew her focus inward, forcing her breathing to steady. She couldn’t allow herself to think of the humiliation, This was about proving a point- to herself and to the girl who had dared to take her victory so effortlessly.

“Allez!”

The match began with a lunge from Wednesday, her blade aiming for the girl’s shoulder. It was a calculated strike, meant to gauge her opponent’s reaction. As before, the girl deflected with an unnerving ease, her blade redirecting Wednesday’s attack in a single fluid motion.

Wednesday pressed forward, her strikes coming faster, sharper, each one aimed to corner the girl into a defensive position. But her opponent was quick, impossibly quick, slipping out of reach with minimal effort.

Wednesday felt her frustration mount with each failed strike. No matter how precisely she aimed, the girl always seemed a step ahead.

Wednesday pushed harder, her movements growing more aggressive. She feinted left, aiming for the girl’s left hand, of course her attack was parried... but barely this time.

For the first time, her defense seemed less impenetrable. Wednesday seized the opening, striking with renewed vigor. But right then, Wednesday’s eyes locked on the girl’s, her heart skipping a beat. They were… haunting. Deep, unfathomable, and completely devoid of emotion.

And then, the girl did something that froze Wednesday mid-movement.

She shifted her stance; a slight adjustment to her footing, the angle of her blade. But as the girl moved, it became clear that this was something entirely different. Her grip on the foil changed, her movements adopting a fluidity that was both unfamiliar and unnerving.

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. The stance was unusual, almost ceremonial in its precision. And then it clicked.

It was the stance of a katana.

The realization sent a chill down Wednesday’s spine. She had studied fencing extensively, priding herself on her knowledge of techniques from all over the world. But this was something else, something that Wednesday isn't an expert on...

The girl moved, and Wednesday barely had time to react. Her strikes came in sweeping arcs, each one faster and more unpredictable than the last. The blade seemed to dance, its movements impossible to predict.

Wednesday’s defense faltered under the onslaught. She parried desperately, her mind racing to adapt to this new style. But the girl’s attacks were relentless, her blade slipping past Wednesday’s defenses with alarming frequency.

For the first time, Wednesday felt out of her depth.

She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to focus. She couldn’t let this girl overwhelm her—not again. She lunged, aiming for a weak point in the girl’s defense, but her blade was deflected with a force that nearly knocked it from her hand.

The girl countered with a strike so precise, so swift, that Wednesday barely dodged in time.... or did she?

Because the girl had stopped.

It wasn’t a retreat or a hesitation. She simply froze, her blade lowering slightly as though she had no reason to continue.

Wednesday frowned, her gaze dropping to her arm. Her stomach dropped. A thin line of red traced its way down her pale skin, a tiny drop of blood beginning to bead at its edge.

First blood.

Wednesday’s foil slipped from her hand, clattering to the floor as the weight of her loss settled over her. She stared at the girl, her mind struggling to process what had just happened.

She had lost. Again.

The girl stepped back, her expression unchanged. There was no emotion in her eyes, no trace of satisfaction or smugness. It was as though the match had meant nothing to her, as though Wednesday had been just another opponent to dispatch.

Wednesday’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. The loss was infuriating, yes, but it was the girl’s indifference that stung the most. She didn’t care. She hadn’t even been challenged.

The girl bent to retrieve her helmet and gloves. She turned without a word, walking toward the exit as though the match had never happened.

Wednesday watched her go, her emotions a tangled mess of anger, humiliation, and something she couldn’t quite name. She had been defeated before by Bianca, but not like this. Not by someone who had reduced her to irrelevance with so ease.

Her reverie was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps. She turned to see Bianca, her left hand freshly bandaged. Bianca stopped a few feet away, crossing her arms over her chest as if she wasn’t sure how to start.

“Now you get it?” Bianca muttered, crossing her arms.

Wednesday raised an eyebrow, “Get what?”

Bianca exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “Why I lost.”

Wednesday remained silent, waiting for Bianca to elaborate.

“When she showed up in the black gear, I thought it was you.” She raised her bandaged hand, her irritation palpable. “So, naturally, I challenged her. Gloves off. I wanted to prove a point to you..."

“And yet here you are,” Wednesday noted, “Unproven.”

Bianca’s jaw tightened, but she pushed past the jab. “She’s not like anyone else. The way she fights? It’s... unsettling.” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “She doesn’t fence. Not really. She reads you, adapts, and then it’s like she’s a step ahead of you the whole time. You can’t even throw her off. I tried."

“And failed.” Wednesday said flatly.

"So did you. But at least you got a point against her." With that, Bianca turned and walked away.

Wednesday remained where she was, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts.

Why did it feel like she was everywhere and nowhere at once?

She exhaled sharply, spinning on her heel and leaving the gym.

By the time she reached quad for lunch, the words had already outrun her. As she stepped inside, the chatter shifted noticeably, students stealing glances at her as though they couldn’t believe the day’s events.

And then there was Enid.

The werewolf practically launched herself at Wednesday, her vibrant energy an unwelcome assault.

“Wednesday! Oh my gosh, is it true? Did you actually.......lose?"

Wednesday gave Enid her death glare... which Enid is immune to, unfortunately.

“Everyone’s talking about it. Apparently, you got your butt kicked by the new girl in, like, the most epic way possible! Like, who even is this girl? And why is she just as dark and scary as you?”

“I am not discussing this.” The glare deepened.

“Okay, okay,” Enid said, holding up her hands. “But seriously, who is she? And why are you so.... intense about this?”

“I am not intense,” Wednesday said curtly.

“Come on, are you jealous? Or just annoyed that someone might actually be better than you?” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Or… is it something else?”

Wednesday’s turned slowly, fixing Enid with a look that could have withered flowers. “Your penchant for meddling will get you killed one day.”

Enid smirked, unfazed. “Uh-huh. So, jealous and annoyed. Got it.”

Before Wednesday could retort, her gaze shifted to the far end of the dining hall.

There she was, sitting alone at a table. She had chosen a seat far from the crowd, her posture calm and unbothered, as though the buzz around her didn’t exist. The students nearest to her stole glances at her, some murmuring, and some looking at her like she was a ticking time bomb.

“You should go talk to her,” Enid whispered, leaning closer.

Wednesday tore her gaze away, fixing Enid with an incredulous look. “And say what, exactly?”

“I don’t know. How do goths befriend each other?” Enid said earning another death glare. “Besides, you two have the same energy; dark and brooding. You’re practically soulmates.”

“Ridiculous,” Wednesday muttered. But her eyes betrayed her, flicking back to the girl. She was so still, so utterly composed, it was unnerving.

Before Wednesday could decide whether to act, the girl stood, collecting her tray and leaving the hall without so much as a glance toward anyone.

She found out your name in alchemy class.

Alchemy was Wednesday’s next class, and she had hoped it would provide a distraction, But as she sat at her desk, her mind kept going back to that girl... and as she began the delicate work of combining reagents, She glanced at the door, almost involuntarily, as though expecting something... and she wasn't disappointed.

The room fell silent. Every student turned to look as the girl walked in, unhurried and unbothered. Her expression betrayed no hint of apology, no trace of acknowledgment for the disruption. She simply stepped inside as though she owned the space.

The professor sighed, “Well, if it isn’t our newest addition. Everyone, this is Y/N.” He gestured vaguely in your direction. “Y/N, I’d ask why you’re late, but something tells me you wouldn’t tell me anyway.”

You said nothing, offering only a blank stare before scanning the room. The only empty seat was beside Wednesday. Without hesitation, you walked over and sat down.

Wednesday stiffened, her focus now completely obliterated. She glanced at you from the corner of her eye, you seemed utterly unbothered by the attention of the room, just as she was at her start here in Nevermore.

The professor resumed his lecture, but Wednesday barely heard a word.

She pretended to focus on the lesson, her pen moving across her notebook. But her eyes betrayed her, darting toward you at every opportunity.

She should have been focused on the experiment, on proving her superiority in yet another intellectual endeavor. But all she could think about was.... those eyes.

Every time Wednesday stole a glance at you, she found herself lingering, her gaze caught by the depth of your stare. There was something unsettling about it, something that gnawed at the edges of her mind. She hated it. And yet, she couldn’t look away.

The rest of the class passed in a haze, when the professor finally dismissed them, Wednesday gathered her things ignoring you. She refused to acknowledge you as you rose and left the room, as silent and unbothered as ever... but she did. As she watched you disappear into the corridor, Wednesday felt a twinge of something she couldn’t name. Curiosity. Frustration. Whatever it was, she was sure she didn't like it.

She first talked to you in the library.

If she could eradicate botany from this school, she would. She despised the assignment. Plants were irritatingly alive, with their need for sunlight and water and their incessant growth. And worse, they were resilient, continuing to thrive no matter how much she wished otherwise. That their existence shared the same planet as hers was one of life's more enduring inconveniences.

But what annoyed her more was giving these green nuisances even a moment of her attention. It was an indignity she had endured only to achieve perfection in her report, which, of course, had been flawless. That's why she had come to the library, she needed a book, Comprehensive Biology.

And there you were.

At the far corner of the library, you stood alone, scanning the shelves.

Wednesday’s dark eyes narrowed. She hadn’t planned to confront you, but the sight of you, unbothered and aloof, stirred something in her. Frustration? No, she refused to acknowledge such a trivial emotion. It was something deeper. A need to understand. To assert control.

She approached quietly, her hands clasped behind her back as she stopped a few feet away. For a moment, she simply observed. You were searching for something, your eyes moving methodically over the spines of the books.

“Lost?” she asked finally, her tone sharp and cutting. Her voice broke the silence like a blade slicing through cloth. “Or have you simply forgotten how to read?”

You turned your head slowly, your expression unreadable as you looked at her. For a moment, there was nothing, no reaction, no flicker of recognition. Then you tilted your head slightly, the faintest hint of curiosity in your eyes.

“Who are you again?” you asked, your voice devoid of malice but also of any warmth.

The question hit Wednesday like a slap. Her expression didn’t falter, but inside, a slow burn began to rise. Who are you again? The words echoed in her mind, each one twisting the knife of insult deeper.

“Who am I?” she repeated, her tone laced with disbelief and irritation. She stepped closer, her dark gaze locked onto yours. “I’m the person you defeated. Twice. Today. The one you sat beside in class today. Or has your memory been as unimpressive as your personality?”

You blinked, unperturbed, and returned your gaze to the books. “Oh,” you said simply, as if the information had already slipped from your mind. “Right.”

The dismissiveness of your voice made Wednesday’s jaw tighten. Most people crumbled under her sharp tongue or recoiled from her glare. You, however, seemed utterly immune

“You’re remarkably unbothered for someone with so little reason to be,” Wednesday said, her voice icy.

You pulled a book from the shelf. “And you’re remarkably persistent for someone who lost.”

Wednesday’s fingers curled into fists at her sides. The audacity. The nerve. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to strangle you or applaud your ability to get under her skin.

“I don’t lose,” she said firmly.

You finally turned to face her fully, the book resting in your hands. “Then what do you call what happened earlier?”

Wednesday’s glare could have melted stone. “An anomaly. One that will not be repeated.”

You raised an eyebrow, your expression still maddeningly neutral. “If you say so.”

Most people would have shifted under her gaze by now, stumbled over their words, or tried to appease her. You did none of those things. Instead, you opened the book, flipping through its pages showing your complete disinterest in the conversation.

“Why are you here?” she asked finally, her voice quieter but no less pointed.

“Looking for a book,” you replied simply, your tone making it clear that the answer should have been obvious.

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “And what, pray tell, is so fascinating that it brought you to the library instead of, say, gloating over your victory?”

You closed the book, sliding it back onto the shelf with the same quiet precision that marked everything you did. “I don’t gloat. Victory isn’t worth much if it’s expected.”

The words struck a chord.

“You’re insufferable,” she said finally, her voice a low growl.

You tilted your head again, considering her words. “So I’ve been told.”

Wednesday’s lips pressed into a thin line. “What type of outcast are you?”

No reply.

Her irritation spiked. “What’s your power? You must have one, unless the administration suddenly decided to admit normies."

Still no reply.

Wednesday huffed, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Ignoring me is ill-advised. I’ve been known to make people regret it.”

You pulled a book off the shelf, inspected it briefly, and then replaced it with a calm that bordered on infuriating.

Wednesday stepped closer, her boots silent on the carpet. “I asked you a question.”

Without a word or any visible motion, a glint of metal appeared in your hand. A knife, sleek and deadly, materialized out of nowhere. Wednesday froze, her body tensing as her hand instinctively moved toward her own hidden knife. But she stopped short when you spun the weapon in your fingers with fluid ease, offering her the handle.

Her eyes narrowed, suspicious and calculating. She didn’t take it immediately, instead scrutinizing both you and the blade. After a moment’s hesitation, Wednesday stepped closer, her hand brushing against yours as she took the knife.

It wasn’t an ordinary knife; it was a parrying dagger, the kind designed to trap and break an opponent’s blade... and it looked old, centuries old.

“Conjuring weapons,” she said slowly, her tone even but laced with curiosity. “Is that your ability?”

"Something like that." you answered.

Before she could probe further, you let out a quiet sigh, your gaze drifting back to the shelves. It seemed you still hadn’t found what you were looking for. As you stepped away from the shelf and headed toward the exit, Wednesday tried to stop you. She held out the parrying dagger, “Here. Take it back.”

"Keep it." You said simply without even glancing back, leaving Wednesday standing alone in the dimly lit library, the dagger still in her hand. She slid it into her pocket, her mind already plotting how she would uncover the truth about you. She didn’t just let things go. And she certainly wasn’t about to start with you.

She understood a bit more about you during botany.

Breakfast was, at best, tolerable, and at worst, a chore. The only reason she even bothered was the unavoidable biological need to sustain herself.

She surveyed the room with her dark eyes, already calculating the path of least interaction to her usual seat with Enid.

But her gaze froze mid-scan.

You were there.

Sitting at her table.

Sitting in her seat.

And beside you, chattering as though her life depended on it, was Enid Sinclair. Did Enid mistook you as Wednesday?

Wednesday’s dark eyes narrowed as she stood by the entrance, taking in the scene. How did you end up here? Of all the tables, all the seats in the dining hall, why hers? . You, however, were picking at your breakfast with the same disinterest Wednesday reserved for Enid’s most frivolous stories.

Enid noticed her almost immediately, waving excitedly. “Wednesday! Over here!”

Wednesday suppressed the urge to roll her eyes but failed. She stood rooted for a moment, weighing her options. She could walk away, claim another seat, and avoid the unbearable company of Enid and you. But that would mean admitting, if only to herself, that she was bothered. She was not one to surrender her territory so easily.

With a sigh that carried all the weight of her disdain, Wednesday made her way to the table. When she reached the table, she didn’t ask for her seat back. She was too mature for that.

Enid beamed. “Look who joined us! Isn’t this great?”

“It’s something,” Wednesday muttered, her tone flat as she slid onto the bench across from you.

You didn’t look up from your plate. The lack of acknowledgment was grating, though she couldn’t decide why.

“So,” Enid said, her voice a mix of excitement and curiosity, “Y/N was just telling me, well, okay, not telling, more like I was guessing, that she’s not really into breakfast food. Isn’t that funny? Like, how can anyone not love pancakes?”

Your fork paused mid-air for the briefest of moments before continuing its journey to your mouth. You didn’t respond.

Wednesday, who understood that pointless chattering annoys you as much as her... maybe she could try "The Enid Way"

“Perhaps Y/N finds pancakes as insipid as she finds conversation.”

Enid blinked, clearly unsure whether to laugh or defend herself. “Uh… okay, rude? But honestly, you two could totally bond over being broody and, like, totally impossible to read.”

Wednesday’s gaze flicked to you then, a sharp, probing look. “I wouldn’t say impossible. Predictable, perhaps. There’s a certain monotony to Y/N’s silence and I do not find it intriguing at all.”

You glanced up, finally meeting her eyes. There was no irritation in your expression, no spark of retaliation, just an unreadable calm that only served to unnerve her further. “And yet, here you are, commenting on it,” you said evenly before returning to your plate.

It wasn’t the sharpest retort, but the way you delivered it, like an afterthought, as though Wednesday’s presence barely registered, made it sting all the same.

Enid looked between the two of you, her eyes wide with the kind of excitement only she could muster. “Oh my gosh, this is like watching two glaciers collide! I mean, not that you guys are slow or cold or anything. Well, maybe a little cold. Anyway, isn’t this fun?”

“No,” Wednesday and you said at the same time.

Enid burst into laughter, clapping her hands. “See? You’re already bonding!”

Wednesday shot her a look that could curdle milk, but Enid was unfazed.

Eugene was approaching their table but he stopped short when he saw you, his gaze darting between you and Wednesday. His eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“Uh… are we seeing double, or is this the person who—”

“Finish that sentence, Eugene, and I’ll make sure you regret it,” Wednesday said.

Eugene’s eyes widened as he nodded quickly. “Got it. Not finishing the sentence.” And just as Eugene joined the table, her attention returning to you. You were wiping your hands with a napkin, getting ready to leave. Wednesday can tell, your hate for social interaction, raged more than her's. Perhaps, she can use that against you.

As Enid watched you stand and leave without so much as a goodbye, she sighed dramatically, "You two would make the perfect brooding couple.”

Wednesday shot her a withering look. “Your penchant for romanticizing everything is both exhausting and nauseating.”

Enid just grinned. “Admit it, Wens. You’re curious about her.”

Wednesday didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Because as much as she hated to admit it, Enid was right. You were a mystery, and Wednesday Addams hated unsolved mysteries almost as much as she hated losing.

Wednesday walked into her botany class with her usual measured pace, her eyes scanning the room as she adjusted in her seat. She didn’t expect much from this class... wait... she forgot to pick up her botany book from the library last night because of you...

“Of course,” she muttered under her breath, her voice laced with venom. It was only fitting that you had managed to distract her into forgetting something as trivial yet necessary as a textbook. You were becoming a consistent thorn in her side. And speak of the devil,

You entered the greenhouse. Wednesday’s gaze flicked to you for a moment as you made your way to the empty seat beside her. You sat without so much as a glance in her direction.

When the class began, the new teacher, whatever her name was Wednesday doesn't care, droned on about invasive species and their effects on native flora.... just like you invaded her perfectly built world.

You weren’t writing anything down.

Your notebook remained mostly untouched, save for a few idle scribbles. Instead, you stared straight ahead, your gaze fixed on some undefined point, your expression unreadable.

For all your skill in fencing and your mysterious arrival at Nevermore, there was an emptiness in you, that Wednesday can feel now...

You didn’t belong here or maybe you belonged too much, in a way even Wednesday couldn’t define.

She first won against you during lunch....

During lunch, Wednesday sat at her usual table with Enid, who was excitedly recounting the latest gossip she’d overheard from the other werewolves. Her voice was a constant hum in Wednesday’s ear, background noise she had learned to filter out with practice.

Then Enid’s chatter abruptly halted.

“Y/N!”

Wednesday turned her head to see Enid bounding across the dining hall. You stood near the entrance, holding a tray of food with the same level of enthusiasm one might have for poison. Enid grabbed your wrist, tugging you toward their table with a persistence that could only be described as infuriating.

You shot Enid a glare that could have killed a lesser person, but the werewolf had her practice with Wednesday's death glare so she seemed unfazed. As you passed other students, you glanced down at Enid’s hand gripping yours with something bordering on confusion, as though physical contact itself was a foreign concept.

“Come on!” Enid chirped, her cheer undeterred by your visible disdain. “It’s not like it’ll kill you to sit with friends!”

“I wasn’t aware we were friends.” you said flatly.

“Not yet,” Enid said brightly, as if your protest were merely a formality.

Wednesday watched the exchange with a mixture of intrigue and irritation. How did Enid always manage to worm her way into the lives of people who radiated darkness like storm clouds? She had done it with Wednesday herself, and now it seemed you were the next victim.

When you reached the table, you didn’t sit immediately. Instead, you crossed your arms, glaring at Enid with a mix of irritation and reluctance.

“Sit!” Enid chirped, patting the bench beside her.

You exhaled sharply, muttering something under your breath, but eventually slid into the seat, placing your tray down.

Wednesday watched the exchange, her dark eyes narrowing at Enid’s ability to befriend the most unapproachable people. The werewolf had done the same with her. And though Wednesday would never admit it aloud, Enid had wormed her way into a space in her life that she didn’t entirely hate. Wednesday would be lying if she said she doesn't care for Enid at all.

Would Wednesday ever find you in that position? She quickly pushed that thought down the stairs, killing it then dumping the body.

“So,” Enid began, already bubbling with energy, “did you know that Wednesday is like, super into typewriters? It’s kind of adorable, honestly.”

“I’m right here,” Wednesday deadpanned.

“Oh, I know,” Enid said, grinning. “Speaking of which, didn’t you say you ran out of typewriter paper last night?”

“Yes,” Wednesday replied, her tone clipped.

“Well,” Enid continued, “I was thinking of taking Y/N to Weathervane for a tour. She’s new, after all."

You rolled your eyes. “I rejected.”

“Same thing!” Enid said brightly, brushing off your correction." Anyway, I thought, why not kill two birds with one stone? You can come with us and pick up your paper, Wednesday!”

Wednesday smirked faintly. She could tell you hated the idea of being dragged into Enid’s plans. You hated company, just as she did. But that made the opportunity to spite you all the more enticing.

“Fine,” Wednesday said, her tone even. “I’ll come.”

Enid clapped her hands together. “Yay! This is going to be so fun!”

You shot Wednesday a death glare, clearly unamused.

“Oh,” Wednesday added, her voice laced with mock innocence, “perhaps Eugene would like to join us. He loves coffee.”

“Eugene!” Wednesday called the hummer who was in their hummer's table. “Join us for a trip to Weathervane later.”

“Really?” Eugene’s face lit up, and he quickly shuffled over to their table.

You looked between Wednesday and Eugene, your glare sharpening. “This is ridiculous.”

“No,” Wednesday replied, meeting your glare with one of her own. “This is retribution.”

Enid, blissfully unaware of the tension, leaned forward with a grin. “This is going to be the best day ever!”

You didn’t respond, instead stabbing a piece of food on your plate with enough force to make the table tremble.

Wednesday allowed herself a small, victorious smirk. The fencing matches may have been your victories, but this round was hers.

But she hadn't seen the real you... until now.

“She’s late,” Wednesday muttered, already regretting her choice, agreeing to go just to spite you.

“Relax, Wednesday,” Enid said, though the werewolf sounded a little unsure herself. “Y/N doesn’t strike me as the punctual type. Or, you know, the type who tells people things. Like ever.”

Eugene adjusted his glasses. “Do you think she just bailed? Maybe she doesn’t actually want to come. I mean it has been almost half an hour...”

“She’s coming,” Wednesday said with conviction. She didn’t know why she was so certain, but she was.

Finally, you appeared in the distance, walking toward them with a measured, unhurried pace.

You stopped a few feet from the group, your hands shoved into your hoodie’s pockets, and regarded them with your usual, unreadable expression. You didn’t apologize for being late.

“You’re late,” Wednesday said, her tone biting.

You raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Eugene offered an awkward wave. “Uh, hey, Y/N.”

Enid quickly stepped in. “Glad you made it! We’ve been waiting forever, but, like, no big deal or anything.”

You didn’t respond to Enid’s cheerfulness, your gaze briefly flickering to her before shifting elsewhere.

“Well,” Enid said, clapping her hands together, “let’s go! The bus should be there any minute.”

The bus ride to Jericho was quiet, at least between you and Wednesday. Enid filled the silence with her usual chatter, talking about.... everything?

“Have you been to Jericho yet, Y/N?” Enid asked, turning to you with a curious smile.

You shook your head, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the bus window.

“It’s cute,” Enid continued, unfazed by your silence. “Small, but cute. Oh, but you should know, some of the normies there aren’t super friendly to outcasts. So, it’s always good to go with people who’ve got your back, you know?”

At her words, Wednesday saw something flicker in your eyes. It was brief, barely there, but it was enough to catch her attention.

A shadow of acknowledgment, perhaps, as you gave a small nod.

The bus arrived at Jericho and the group hopped down.

Enid led the way, her excitement not affected by your clear preference for distance. You trailed behind, keeping a noticeable gap between yourself and the others.

Eugene tried to bridge the gap a few times, but each attempt was met with silence, and eventually, he gave up.

The group stopped at a small general store first. Enid immediately darted toward the cosmetics aisle, her eyes lighting up as she scanned rows of nail polishes and makeup.

“Y/N, do you need anything?” Enid asked, glancing over her shoulder.

“No,” you replied simply, your voice as flat as ever.

Enid shrugged and continued her search, while Wednesday moved toward the stationery section, searching for her typewriter paper and ink. She found the items quickly enough but lingered, her gaze occasionally drifting toward you.

You stood near the entrance of the store, your hands in your pockets, watching a pair of children playing near the candy section. The boy, no older than six, was laughing as he chased his older sister around, their footsteps light and carefree.

It was subtle, but Wednesday noticed something in the way you observed them. Wednesday noticed something in your eyes, different from your usual detached demeanor. Intrigue? Longing? It was impossible to say.

“What’s so fascinating about them?” Wednesday asked, her voice low as she approached.

You didn’t look at her. “Nothing.”

“That’s doubtful,” she pressed.

You finally turned your head toward her, your expression unreadable. “Who says it’s your business?”

For a moment, Wednesday considered pushing further, but something in your tone warned her off. You weren’t going to share, and she didn’t care enough yet to pry the answer from you.

“Suit yourself,” she muttered, turning back toward the shelves.

When she returned to the checkout counter, you were already standing there, waiting. Wednesday placed her items on the counter, glancing at you from the corner of her eye.

You didn’t acknowledge her, your attention fixed on the glass door as though willing the others to hurry up.

“Got everything I need!” Enid chirped, appearing beside them with an armful of brightly colored products. She paid quickly, practically bouncing toward the exit.

“Come on, guys!” Enid called from the doorway, already heading outside.

Wednesday followed, her bag in hand. You moved to the door without a word.

The group had just stepped out of the store, when Wednesday’s sharp eyes caught movement near the counter, on the cashier, his shoulders hunched as five boys loomed over him. They weren’t just grabbing beers from the fridge. One of them yanked a handful of cash from the register

“C’mon, old man, don’t look at us like that,” one of them sneered. “Think of it as…taxes for keeping your store safe.”

The cashier muttered something inaudible, his voice trembling. The boys only laughed, grabbing more bottles and shoving them into their backpacks.

Enid’s cheerful demeanor shifted instantly. She grabbed Wednesday’s arm. “Wednesday…shouldn’t we do something? He needs help.”

Eugene took a step back, looking down at his feet. “I don’t know, Enid. These guys look...trouble. And we’re not even supposed to be here, technically.”

Wednesday frowned. On one hand, this was a normie problem, a petty theft that would resolve itself eventually. On the other hand, there was an undeniable injustice in letting the boys get away with it.

Before she could decide, the boys finished their “business” and left, swaggering out the door with their loot. Enid sighed, clearly disappointed but not wanting to push it further. “Guess we’d better go,” she said, turning to leave.

Wednesday hesitated for a moment but followed Enid and Eugene down the street. However, something nagged at her. A presence. She glanced back, and sure enough, there you were, still standing in the store’s doorway, watching the scene unfold.

“Y/N,” Wednesday called out,

You turned slowly, meeting her gaze with your usual unreadable expression. “I need to buy something.”

Enid frowned, confused. “But you said you didn’t need anything earlier.”

You didn’t respond to her. Instead, you turned on your heel and walked back into the store.

Curiosity piqued, Wednesday followed, with Enid and Eugene trailing behind. From their spot near the door, they watched as you approached the counter and spoke to the shaken cashier in a low, even voice. “I need that, that, and that.” you said, pointing to items behind the counter.

The cashier blinked, visibly confused but too shaken to argue. He retrieved an aluminum baseball bat, a heavy chain, and a pair of black gloves, placing them on the counter.

“What is she even going to do with all that?” Eugene whispered nervously.

You slid the gloves onto your hands, gripping the bat in one arm and coiling the chain loosely in the other. Without a word, you passed them, heading toward the alley where the boys had disappeared moments earlier.

“What is she—” Enid started, but Wednesday cut her off with a raised hand.

“Follow her,” Wednesday said, her voice low and firm.

The three of them trailed after you, keeping their distance until they reached the alley’s edge. Peeking around the corner, they saw the five boys lounging against a brick wall, laughing and drinking from their stolen beers.

When they noticed you, their laughter grew louder. One of them, tall with a cocky grin, stepped forward.

“Hey, little girl,” one of them said, smirking as he stepped forward. “What’s with the bat? You gonna play baseball with us?”

The others laughed.

But you didn’t respond. You simply stared at them, your grip tightening around the bat.

The first boy took another step closer, his smirk widening. “You lost, sweetheart? Or maybe you’re here to—”

CRACK

Wednesday can swear if she blinked she would've missed the swing of the bat as it connected with the boy's temple with a sickening thud, cutting his words short as he crumpled to the ground. The sound echoed through the alley, silencing the laughter instantly.

“What the hell?!” one of the boys shouted, his eyes wide with panic.

Wednesday’s breath hitched, her eyes locked on you as you adjusted your stance. There was no hesitation in your movements, no wasted energy. You were a predator, and they were your prey.

One of them lunged at you, but you sidestepped easily, the chain in your other hand whipped out, coiling around the wrist of the next boy like a serpent. With a sharp tug, you yanked him towards you, and the bat came down again with brutal precision on his head. Another one down.

“Holy crap,” Eugene whispered, clutching at Wednesday’s sleeve. “She’s… she’s gonna kill them!”

“No,” Wednesday murmured, her voice almost reverent. “She’s too precise for that.”

The remaining boys hesitated, their bravado faltering as they realized the odds weren’t in their favor. One of them pulled out a pocketknife, holding it up shakily.

“Stay back,” he warned, his voice betraying his fear.

You tilted your head slightly before the chain lashed out again, latching onto his hand. The knife clattered to the ground as you closed the distance, the bat swinging upward and catching him squarely under the chin. He collapsed in a heap.

You slowly picked up the knife and glared at the last two. With a flick of your wrist, the blade sailed through the air, embedding itself in the leg of one of them. He screamed, collapsing to the ground clutching his thigh.

The final boy tried to run, But you were faster. The chain wrapped around his ankle, sending him sprawling face-first onto the ground. The bat came down once, twice, and he was out.

The boy still screaming because of the knife latched onto his leg begged, “Take it! Take the money! Take the beer! Just don’t—” Your bat silenced him with a single, calculated blow to the side of his head.

Wednesday’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smirk. There was something captivating about the way you moved; calculated, efficient, merciless. Not a single touch landed on you, and yet you left all five of them groaning on the ground.

You crouched down, rummaging through the pockets of the nearest boy. Pulling out a wad of cash, probably way more than what they even stole. You rose and picked up the bag of beers.

As you passed the trio at the end of the alley, Wednesday’s gaze followed you, her smirk still there, she wouldn't hide it because she was, truly, for the first time in her life, impressed.

Wednesday followed you instantly, and the other two followed hesitantly... stopping just inside the doorway as you approached the cashier.

“I’d like to return this bat,” you said, placing it on the counter alongside the cash and the beer.

The cashier stared at you, wide-eyed and speechless.

Without waiting for an answer, you turned and walked out of the store, passing by the trio without so much as a glance.

Wednesday watched as you made your way to the bus stand, and just stood there. The three of them stood there in stunned silence.

Enid was the first to break it. “Okay, I take it back. She’s not just like Wednesday. She’s way scarier.”

Part 2

[A/n: Tried a new route, Didn't really find much fics out there where reader is the one who is more badass , so thought about writing one myself lol, Comment how you guys like this new one]

[paxtito]

needy girl

pairings: tara x reader (g!p)

wc: 2867

warnings: smut 18+, daddy kink, size kink, p in v, small amount of orgasm denial

a/n: requested by anon. i’ve never written a daddy kink before so this is my first time lol. (no kink shaming here.) not proofread

MASTERLIST

Tara hated being away from you for too long. It wasn’t something she’d ever admit out loud—she had a reputation to uphold, after all—but the moment you were out of sight, a restless itch settled under her skin. And today? Today was worse. You had been in class for over an hour, and she was already craving your presence.

She could’ve texted you, but she knew better. Your phone would be on silent, and the last thing she wanted was to be left on read, forced to wait. So instead, she took matters into her own hands.

Using the key you had given her weeks ago (something she had fought hard not to gloat about), Tara let herself into your dorm. The space was familiar, comforting in a way that made her shoulders relax the moment she stepped inside. The lingering traces of your cologne, the messiness that was so uniquely you—it was enough to ease the ache in her chest, but not entirely.

Her eyes flickered to your bed, then to your desk chair where she spotted it—her prize. Your favorite hoodie, the one she had stolen more times than she could count, was draped over the back like an open invitation. She snatched it up without hesitation, pulling it over her head in one fluid motion before crawling onto your bed.

The scent of you surrounded her immediately, warm and familiar, sending a shiver down her spine. She nuzzled her face into the fabric, breathing deeply, letting it wrap around her like you would if you were here. The bed smelled like you too, and soon, she was tangled in the sheets, sighing as she settled in.

You had no idea how hard it was for her to wait for you. No idea how many times she had debated ditching her own plans just to be with you instead. But this? This was the next best thing.

Still, when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, she pulled it out, biting back a smug smile as she saw your name.

You: Why do I have a feeling you’re in my room right now?

She didn’t bother denying it.

Tara: I missed you.

It was simple. Honest. And she knew you’d understand.

—

Tara was startled out of her reverie by the sound of your footsteps approaching the dorm room door. Her heart began to race as she heard the key turn in the lock, and she quickly tossed your hoodie onto the floor beside the bed. She wanted to be lounging casually when you walked in, not caught red-handed.

The door swung open, and there you stood, your eyes widening slightly as you took in the sight of Tara sprawled out on your bed, her dark hair fanned out against your pillow. Tara flashed you a wicked grin, her brown eyes gleaming with mischief and something far more heated.

"Hey, Daddy," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "I was starting to think you'd never get back."

She sat up slowly, making sure to put an extra sway in her hips. The way her shirt rode up her toned midriff didn't go unnoticed by you, and she could see your gaze dip downwards before snapping back up to meet her own.

Tara licked her lips, her eyes roaming over your body hungrily. Being apart from you had left her feeling restless and achy, and now that you were here, she was determined to make up for lost time. She spread her legs slightly, just enough to give you a peek at what lay beneath her skirt.

"I missed you," she whispered, holding out her hand to you. "Come here, Daddy. I need you."

Her words were laced with desire, and the way she looked at you, with such open want and longing, sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core. She could see the effect she was having on you, the way your eyes darkened and your jaw clenched, and it only spurred her on.

Tara crawled towards the edge of the bed, her movements slow and deliberate. She stopped just short of falling off the side, her face now level with your chest. She could feel the heat radiating off your body, could smell the scent of your cologne mingling with the slight sheen of sweat on your skin.

"Daddy," she breathed, her hand coming up to rest on your chest. "I thought about you all day. About this." She pressed her palm flat against your chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of your heart. "About us."

Her other hand slid down your stomach, her fingers tracing your stomach through your shirt.

Tara shivered as she felt your large hand wrap around her delicate wrist, halting the downward trajectory of her fingers. She looked up at you with hooded eyes, her breath catching in her throat as she took in the intense, almost feral look on your face. A thrill ran through her as you mumbled those two simple words.

"Oh, really?" you asked, your grip tightening slightly on her wrist. Your other hand came up to cup her chin, tilting her face up towards yours. Your thumb brushed over her lower lip, tracing the soft, plump swell of it before pressing down, parting it from its twin.

Tara's tongue darted out, flicking against the pad of your thumb before drawing it into her mouth. She sucked lightly, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin as she held your gaze. She could feel the heat of your body, the power emanating from you, and it made her feel small and helpless in the best possible way.

"Yes, Daddy," she breathed, her words slightly muffled around your thumb. "I thought about you all day. About this. About you touching me, tasting me, fucking me until I can't think of anything else but your name."

She nipped at your thumb before releasing it, a wicked glint in her eye. "I'm so fucking wet for you, Daddy. I've been touching myself, imagining it was your hands on me, your fingers inside me. But it's not the same. It's not enough."

She pressed herself closer to you, until her breasts were flush against your chest, until she could feel every inch of your body against her own. "I need you, Daddy," she whimpered, her nails digging into your chest. "Please. I need you to fuck me. I need you to claim me, to make me yours."

She captured your mouth in a searing kiss, pouring all of her pent-up desire and desperation into it. She licked into your mouth, her tongue tangling with yours, tasting you, consuming you. She arched her body against you, soft curves meeting hard planes, until she was practically climbing up your body, trying to get as close to you as physically possible.

Tara moaned into the kiss, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. She could feel the evidence of your arousal pressing against her stomach, hard and insistent, and it made her ache with a hunger she couldn't quite satisfy on her own.

She broke the kiss with a gasp, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her lips were kiss-swollen and damp, her eyes glazed with lust as she stared up at you with a mix of desperation and devotion.

Tara shuddered as your hands began to roam her body, your fingers deftly unbuttoning her shirt. She arched into your touch, craving more, always wanting to be closer to you. As each button popped open, more of her smooth, sun-kissed skin was revealed, and your breath caught in your throat at the sight.

"Fuck, Tara," you growled, pushing the fabric off her shoulders to expose the delicate lace of her bra. "You're so fucking beautiful. Such a perfect little thing, all curves and softness, just begging to be touched, to be claimed."

You hooked your fingers under the straps of her bra, easing them down her arms until it fell away, baring her breasts to your hungry gaze. You drank in the sight of her, the rosy peaks of her nipples already hardened with arousal, just waiting for your touch.

"Look at these perfect tits," you murmured, cupping the soft mounds in your large hands. "They fit in my palms like they were made for me. Made to be squeezed, to be sucked, to be marked by my fingers and my mouth and my cock."

Tara whimpered as you rolled her nipples between your fingers, tugging gently before pinching and twisting them. Jolts of pleasure shot through her, making her writhe beneath you.

"Please, Daddy," she begged, her back arching off the bed as she pressed her breasts more fully into your palms. "Touch me more. I need to feel you everywhere."

Your hands slid down her sides, over the dip of her waist and the flare of her hips, before gripping the waistband of her skirt. With a sharp tug, you yanked it down her legs, leaving her in nothing but a pair of tiny panties that did little to hide her arousal.

"Fuck, you're soaked," you groaned, running a finger over the damp fabric. "Such a needy little thing, so desperate for my cock. Don't worry, baby girl, Daddy's going to give you exactly what you need."

You peeled the scrap of lace down her legs, tossing it carelessly to the floor. Then, with a hand on her stomach, you pushed her back against the bed, settling yourself between her spread thighs.

"I'm going to taste this pretty pussy," you promised, your breath hot against her core.

Tara gasped as you settled between her thighs, her fingers tangling in your hair as you leaned in close. She could feel your breath, hot and heavy, washing over her most intimate places, making her ache with a hunger she couldn't quite satisfy.

"Yes, Daddy," she whimpered, her hips rocking slightly, seeking more of that delicious friction. "Please, taste me. I'm so fucking wet for you, I need your mouth on me."

She spread her legs wider, opening herself up to you completely. The scent of her arousal filled the air, musky and sweet, a silent invitation for you to take what you wanted.

You didn't hesitate. You dove in, your tongue parting her folds in one long, slow lick. Tara cried out, her back arching off the bed as pleasure exploded through her. Your tongue was hot and wet and perfect, and it sent shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through her body.

"Oh, fuck yes," she moaned, her fingers tightening in your hair as she held you against her. "Just like that, Daddy. Lick my pussy just like that."

You groaned against her, the vibrations only adding to her pleasure. Your tongue delved deep, fucking into her entrance, tasting her essence, devouring her whole.

Tara thrased and writhed beneath you, her thighs trembling, her stomach muscles clenching as you worked her over. She was so close already, teetering on the edge of oblivion, and you could feel her walls fluttering around your tongue, greedy and hungry.

Tara's eyes flew open as she felt you shift between her thighs, and her gaze dropped to your crotch just as you freed your hard, thick cock from the confines of your jeans. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips as she drank in the sight of you, her eyes dark with lust and desire.

"Oh my god, Daddy," she panted, her voice husky and low. "You're so fucking big. I love your cock, I love how it makes me feel so small and dainty."

She reached down, wrapping her small hand around your thick shaft, feeling it throb against her palm. She stroked you slowly, marveling at the way you fit in her grip, the way she could barely close her fingers all the way around you.

Tara whimpered as you pushed her hand away, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face before you tutted at her. She bit her lip, a mischievous glint in her eye as she looked up at you with a mix of defiance and submission.

Tara gasped as she felt your hard cock slap against her dripping folds, a shock of pleasure-pain shooting through her. Before she could process it, you were pushing forward, your thick shaft parting her lips and sinking deep into her tight, wet heat.

"Oh fuck!" Tara cried out, her back arching off the bed as you filled her in one swift, hard thrust. Her walls stretched deliciously around you, fitting you like a glove as you buried yourself to the hilt inside her.

You groaned at the feeling of her, so hot and tight and perfect around your aching cock. You could feel every inch of her, could feel her fluttering and clenching around you, trying to draw you deeper still.

"Yes, fuck, you're so deep," Tara panted, her nails digging into your shoulders as she clung to you. "You're stretching me so good."

Tara's eyes rolled back, fluttering closed in bliss as you began to move, pulling out until just the tip remained before slamming back in. She cried out with each powerful thrust, her voice echoing off the dorm room walls as you pounded into her relentlessly.

"Yes, Daddy, fuck me harder!" Tara begged, wrapping her legs around your waist to pull you in deeper. "I want to feel you in my fucking womb."

The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as you fucked her harder, faster, spurred on by her desperate cries.

After a while, Tara could feel you getting close, your thrusts becoming more erratic, more urgent. She could feel your cock throbbing inside her, growing harder, hotter, as you chased your release.

Tara gasped as you suddenly pulled out of her, leaving her feeling empty and aching for your touch. Before she could protest, you were gripping her hips and flipping her over onto her knees, her face pressed against the mattress.

"Yes, Daddy," she panted, quickly shifting to comply. She got onto her hands and knees, looking back at you over her shoulder with hooded, lust-filled eyes. "What do you need, baby? Tell me what you want."

She wiggled her ass invitingly, the globes of her cheeks jiggling with the motion. She could feel her pussy throbbing, dripping with arousal, as she presented herself to you.

Tara let out a yelp of surprise as your hand connected with her ass, the sharp sting quickly morphing into pleasure that raced through her veins. Before she could dwell on it, you were pushing back inside her, hilting yourself in her tight, wet heat once more.

"Yes, fuck yes!" she cried out, pushing her hips back to meet your thrusts. Her pussy clenched around you, gripping your shaft like a velvet vice as you rubbed her clit in tight, fast circles. Tara could feel herself hurtling towards the edge embarrassingly fast, your fingers on her clit and your cock pounding into her sending her spiraling out of control.

Just as she was about to come undone, you pulled out abruptly, leaving Tara whimpering and empty. But before she could voice her protest, you were painting her ass white with your hot, thick seed, marking her as yours. Tara shuddered, a moan escaping her lips as she felt your release coating her skin, claiming her.

Once you had recovered, you lowered yourself down, your face now level with her dripping core. She could feel your breath, hot and heavy, washing over her sensitive flesh, making her throb with anticipation.

"Yes, Daddy, please," she whimpered, reaching down to tangle her fingers in your hair. "Please, I need your mouth on me. I need to come so fucking bad."

Her plea turned into a high-pitched keen as you leaned in and ran your tongue along her slit, parting her folds and delving deep. Tara's head fell back, her eyes squeezing shut as pleasure exploded through her, radiating out from where your mouth was working magic on her aching cunt.

You licked and sucked, your tongue flicking over her clit before delving deep, fucking into her entrance with a fervor that left her breathless. At the same time, your fingers found her clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight, fast circles that had her seeing stars.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Tara chanted, her hips rocking against your face as she chased her release. She could feel it building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in her core until it finally snapped and she was coming undone with a scream of your name.

Her pussy clenched and spasmed around nothing, gushing her release as you worked her through it, extending her pleasure until she was collapsing against the bed, boneless and sated.

Tara collapsed onto the bed, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her skin was flushed and damp, her hair a wild mess around her face as she stared up at the ceiling, a fucked-stupid grin on her lips.

"Holy shit, baby," she panted, turning her head to look at you with hazy, satisfied eyes. "That was...fuck, that was incredible. You always know just what I need."