#tara carpenter x fem | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

woewriting · 1 month

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turning point tara carpenter x g!p reader

tara calls you to rescue her from a bad date and things take a surprising turn.

tags. mdni, +18 only! no ghostface au, reader has a dick (no pronouns used). friends with benefits (?), clothed sex, language, smut in general. | word count. 3726

author's note. 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.

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czalzver · 6 months

Text

lipstick stain

a/n: short little drabble for u cuties

warnings:none

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!reader

summary: in which u leave ur lipstick stain on her bottle.

word count: 500+

You're in history class, your teacher is out of the classroom saying 'it was an emergency' but when others gave that excuse she wouldn't let them go. Your leg bouncing up and down you can feel your mouth begin to dry up; you left your water bottle at home. You don’t know why or how your like this. On Monday it was your school ID, Tuesday it was your glasses, Wednesday it was your binder, and now it’s your water bottle.

“I really think I’m gonna die of thirst.” You say to your friend, as the teacher walks back in to the classroom.

You raise your hand, whilst the teacher ignores you.

“Yes, Ms. L/n.”

“Can I go get a drink of water?”

“No you guys are gonna leave soon.”

You looked at the clock.

5 minutes left. I can survive this, you thought to yourself.

Turns out, 5 minutes felt like an eternity. You rested your head as the pain grew more and more, you looked at the clock once more til it showed 12:59. Quickly people around you gathered their things shoving them into their backpacks. You grabbed your stuff, the bell rang, you just decided to hold onto your stuff. Getting up from your seat, clinging your bag to your shoulder, side by side with your friend.

“Hey, You’ll be fine I’m sure your next teacher will let you get water.”

“I have Wednesday next period, I can get some of her water.”

You didn’t know it yet, but surely your other friend did, you definitely felt someone more than friends toward Wednesday.

“Hey, can I borrow your mirror really quick?” You ask you friend, taking a darkish red lipstick from your bag. She hands the mirror to you, with a big goofy grin on her face.

“Why are you laughing..” You ask with a smile and a confused face all together. You open the mirror looking through it, before touching up the red in your lips.

“Isn’t it obvious?” She tells you. You shake your head, handing her mirror back, walking off before she can say anything else.

You hide behind the door, fixing your hair. As you go inside, you see Wednesday seated in the middle right side. You go over to her, playing your bag down, swiftly taking a seat before anyone else could.

“Hi, Wednesday.” You smile at her, the presence of her just making you warm, which normally to others is humanly, physically impossible due to her cold personality. But you always saw more to her than that.

“Hello.” She said with a monotone voice.

“You think I can get some water?”

“Did you forget your water bottle,” Wednesday turns her gaze at you, your face softening up with her black filled siren eyes. You nodded slowly, “Not surprised, L/n.” She grabbed her water from her bag, sliding it over to you. You internally smiled, grabbing it from the desk opening it.

You took a sip, your shoulders fall in relief, your mouth no longer dry anymore, everything just filled with relief. You close the lid, "Let me get some." Wednesday tells you. You take the top off, sliding it over to her. Wednesday goes to drink it, before seeing what was on the side. Wednesday turned a bright pink, her body radiating with heat.

Your lipstick stain was left.

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wesstars · 7 months

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hot on your lips

tara carpenter x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: her hands are on your shoulders, and the next thing you know, your back is pressed to the bed, and tara’s rocking her weight on top of you. she leans in close, breath as soft as her skin against your lips, breathing out a quiet ‘yes.’ wc: 3.0k tags: explicit, minors DNI!! no-ghostface au bc i didn’t feel like fitting it in. bad dirty talk, top!reader and bottom!tara, needy!tara, D/s dynamics, reader is a little tiny bit of a sadist (as a treat,) sex on camera, exhibitionism and voyeurism, mild restraint, mild degradation, horribly excessive use of italics a/n: am I back?? idk how i feel about this. thank you to @evilwednesday for helping me out w the cover image & the title :)

masterlist

Tara’s in your arms before her bag even hits the floor.

You’re so, so glad the hallway is empty as she nearly bowls you over in the doorway of your shared apartment, peppering your face with kisses. You lift her up and give her a spin, pressing your lips to hers—it’s pure comfort, after so many long months of Tara’s school semester. Long distance was a real bitch sometimes, but Tara reminded you every day of how it was all worth it. In fact, you’d felt as if what you had with her was made more real by the distance so often between you. But now, she’s in your arms, finally, and you nudge her suitcase inside with your foot, bending to grab the backpack she’d discarded.

Pulling back, she speaks, so soft and shy it nearly makes your heart burst. “Hi.”

“Tara,” you breathe, “I thought—I wasn’t supposed to go pick you up from ORD until—”

“There was a change of plans,” she interrupts, palms on your cheeks to pull you into a bruising kiss. You feel yourself practically melt into her, like a docile dog in a firm hand. You set her bag down, just managing to not drop it. “I took an earlier flight-” her lips are on yours again- “Couldn’t wait.”

“Couldn’t wait… for what?”

“This.” She slips her tongue into your mouth, all hot and velvet on your teeth. God, the way it felt to miss her was addictive, but this was a million times better. Grabbing blindly, you miss the door handle a few times as you’re distracted by her soft lips, finally managing to slam the door shut. Shifting your strong hands to the soft crease of her ass and thigh, you bump your teeth into hers in your eagerness, but she doesn’t seem to mind. You walk her into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind you.

Tara smells like the airport and outside wind, something uniquely New York caught in her hair. She pulls back for only a second to reach around, drop her jacket and shoes, leaving her in just a shirt and comfy sweats. Her palms are sun-warm on your cheek and your neck; any place that she could touch was fair game for her. Your mind feels hazy already—it makes it hard to focus as you try to maneuver around furniture you could navigate in the dark, Tara’s presence more than disarming. Part of you wants to slow down, ask her how her semester went, but the smarter, Tara-influenced majority of you knows that with the way she was pulling at you and your heart, she would straight up kill you if you did that. You’re all too happy to oblige her, kissing her back for every day that she’d been gone.

“I missed you,” she whispers as she pulls on the collar of your shirt, even though you’re pressed so close already. She’s feather-light in your arms as you carry her down the hallway, nearly stumbling through the bedroom door. You let her down to stand between your feet, freeing your hands to cup her jaw. The curve of Tara’s face is as familiar as the way her nose brushes against yours, soft. It only takes a second, really, but with just her scraping her nails on the back of your neck, you’re wanting, enough to hold her tight and feel her melt against you.

Tara nearly topples the both of you when she grabs your shirt again and pulls. You just barely catch yourself from crushing her against the bed—but as always, she takes you by surprise, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and slanting her mouth against yours to deepen the kiss. The look in her half-lidded eyes as you peek down at her tells you all you need to know about her intentions. With the way you were kissing up on her, anyone would think that you’d been apart for years, not months, but god knows you couldn’t get enough.

It’s near obscene, the press of your tongue against hers, but with all of the urgency built from the past few months, it only serves to split you open. As quick as it began, your kiss, broken by barely a gasp for air, turns heated and hungry. It’s filthy, and the urge to spit in her mouth and make her swallow is more than a fleeting thought. Instead, you force her thighs open with your hips, grabbing her ass and pulling her close.

Under her sweats, you can feel the edges of fabric underneath, and you grin, skimming your hands lower. You furrow your brow when you feel a telltale band of elastic, and your hands tighten on her thighs.

“Tara-” your voice comes out a rasp- “are you wearing thigh highs?” You’re nearly dizzy with how much blood rushes from your head to your stomach, pooling low and hot.

“I know you like them.” Tara smiles a little, impishly, but she looks down to your hands instead of your eyes. You know her—she’s looking for confirmation that she’s right, that she hadn’t overstepped in wearing something for you. In your mind, it’s absurd of her to even entertain this sort of thing, the way it sends a tingle up your spine. But Tara needs it, and you’re more than eager to please. You trail your fingers to her waistband, pulling her sweats down and off to expose her. Your grip on her hips is tight and squeezing, holding her in a way that’s unmistakable as want.

You cock your head, ignoring how loud your heart runs. “Oh, yeah? Is that why you’re matching again?” You take her hand, slide your thumb over her fingernails, in gel black. The sheer fabric is the same shade, soft as sin against your palms. Briefly, you consider tearing them apart, seeing the ruin of tatters against her skin—but her little whimper as you trace your fingers where her thighs spill out over the top makes you change your mind.

She’s breathing hard from just the kissing, and when she sighs into your mouth, you’re reminded of the way she’d boldly suggested, your blushing cheeks visible even on FaceTime, that you let her take a souvenir back to her apartment. Tara had complained that she was bored, in a way that homework couldn’t solve, her wide eyes telling you that was as true as could be. You never could back down from a challenge, no matter how warm it made you feel—that was why there was currently an old camera sitting on the bedroom table. You smile, biting your tongue.

“Remember what you said that night, baby?”

You point to the other end of the room, to the camera there, mocking. You expect her to laugh, to shake her head with an exasperated fondness, and push her lips back on yours. Instead, she freezes, swallowing. Her grip on your biceps tightens.

“Tara?”

She turns her gaze to you, and in the half-light you see that her pupils are blown, wide in a sort of disbelieving arousal. It hooks you in, a tug in your stomach, as your mind fills with only Tara.

“Tara…” you repeat, “do you remember?” She’s quiet, a blush rising steadily to her cheeks. “‘Don’t you wish you could see what you do to me,’” you tease, leaning in close. “You want me to watch you, right? Well, doll, there’s a camera right there.”

“I—” Tara nearly protests, but oh, her flush, the way her hips move so subtly, is telling enough for you. Not letting her hesitate anymore, you grab her shoulders, flipping her so she’s under you. She fits perfectly, holding you up just as much as you’re holding her down.

“You’re gonna watch this when you’re alone, right?” You tease, trailing a hand down her arm to push her wrists above her head with one hand. In your daze, you know her tells as well as you know that drag of desire in your stomach, and so you already know that she’s— “You’re gonna watch this and rut that needy pussy on your hand, is that it?”

It’s your turn to look for confirmation—distantly, it rings in your mind that you must’ve lost your mind, to be talking to Tara like this, but what’s more apparent to you is the moan that escapes from her mouth, the way her eyes slide shut.

“Yeah,” she breathes, something shameless in the twist of her brow as she arches her back. Her nipples press into your chest, hard through her thin shirt, her knees falling open even more. She’s warm, underwear just clinging to her and leaving nothing to imagination. “I’ll watch it whenever you want me to.”

“You will,” you laugh, something deep and dark. “But when you touch, you’ll let me know when you’re gonna come, okay? So I know that you’ve stopped, like a good girl.” You grind your hips between her thighs, watching her breath catch. It’s a soft, bated moment, but something cracks in the air, nearly audible. The shift between the two of you is a familiar one, apparent in the way that she clings harder to you, presenting her chest, the column of her throat, the tilt of her jaw.

“I will,” she says obediently, her pleading gaze making you grin. “I’ll stop, I’ll touch myself, whatever you want—”

Just as quick, you’re pushing yourself off of her. The room is quiet, save for your footsteps and Tara’s breaths, adorably shaky. The camera is easy to set up, even if you do chance a look at her one too many times. You’re back by her side, and you both watch the red light, winking back at you.

You sit down next to Tara, trailing your hand up and down her stomach. “I’ll tell you every dirty little thing I’d like to do to you, if you’re patient,” you whisper in her ear, something meant for only her to hear.

Her hands are on your shoulders, and the next thing you know, your back is pressed to the bed, and Tara’s rocking her weight on top of you. She leans in close, breath as soft as her skin against your lips, breathing out a quiet ‘yes.’ Giving a little twist that not-so-accidentally presses her heat against the seam of your jeans, she pulls her shirt and bra off in one miraculous motion. You touch her skin, smooth and warm and hot, and you just know she enjoys how your eyes can’t help but drop lower, your hands nearly following. She leans in to kiss you again, the ends of her hair tickling your collar. You both pull back, and you take a second to just look at her, and you can see how she’s been. School was long and difficult, it’s in the set of her eyes, and you want to know more, despite the burn in your stomach.

But with the way she’s looking back at you, white little teeth worrying at her lip, you all but smile.

“Alright, pretty girl,” you tease, “what is it, now?” She whines when your hands meet her chest, rolling her nipples between your fingers. “C’mon, tell me.”

It comes more easily than you expect, and it drops molten heat into your chest. “I wanna ride your face,” she whispers. You grab for her hips, tight. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

Glancing over at the red light, you bite down a groan. “Do you think you deserve it?”

“Yes, yes—” she’s already straining against your grip, trying to crawl her way up your body.

“That’s for me to decide, Tara.”

She keens, but she drops her head to watch your hands on her—she’s sensitive—as she pants. You shush her, sliding your thigh between hers. It must catch on her in just the right way, because she’s tensing up in your arms, fingers digging into your shoulders.

“You’re looking so desperate,” you laugh, glad she can’t see the flush on your cheeks.

“I am.” Her bold declaration stops your heart in your chest; you know she’s telling the truth.

“So say ‘please,’” you murmur, head spinning.

Her eyes are glossy when she finally looks at you. “Please…”

“Very good,” you say patiently. You lean up to kiss her, sucking her bottom lip none too gently. “Why don’t you beg a little?”

You see how the false hope makes her tears so willing to spill out. Her hips rut on your thigh, with no rhyme or rhythm—you’re practically begging yourself to help her, but you hold back.

“Please,” she says again, taking a ragged breath. “Please, want your tongue in me—”

“Louder, Tara,” you snap, threading a hand in her hair and pulling her head up, none too gently. You force her to look in the camera, watching her pupils dilate as she stares down the lens. “I want you to be reminded of what a whiny bitch you are.”

“Want you to eat me out,” she whines to the camera, closing her eyes against the redness in her cheeks. “Want…” The next time she says it, it's louder—you release Tara’s hips to pull her panties off, nearly tearing them when she shifts up the bed at the same moment.

It makes you ache, being so close to touching Tara, her scent heady and thick, ensconcing your every sense. Her hands grab the headboard as you wrap your arms around her thighs to pull her closer to your lips. She’s practically shaking in her anticipation, and truthfully, it’s hard for you to wait any longer. You trace your tongue across the stretch marks on her inner thighs, and then straight to her cunt. She’s all velvet and honey against you, as you eagerly run your tongue up and down, savoring what you’ve missed. It’s so intoxicatingly good that you nearly miss the way she cries out, your name a shameless prayer.

You miss her weight on your chest as her back arches, and immediately you’re tracing the dip in her spine. Irrevocably, you’re watching her every move as you tease at her clit, making her rut her hips against your face, chasing friction.

“Fuck,” she says on an exhale, breaking the word into two damning syllables, just like the ba-dum of your heart. Tara tears her hand from the headboard, threading her fingers into your hair to pull you closer. It’s a gesture that you should chastise her for, but you can’t bring yourself to resist her.

“That’s it, pretty girl.” You wrap your lips around her clit and ease two fingers in at the same time—she’s so wet it doesn’t take much to get them in. When you look up at her, the glazed expression on her face is something sated and satisfied, like chocolate wouldn’t ever melt in her mouth. A lazy grin graces her lips, a dusty pink rising up on her cheeks as she squirms against you, adjusting easily to the familiar stretch.

Somehow, you can feel in your gut that she’s being good for the camera, and you can’t bring yourself to take your time. You want everything at once, to make her come over and over again into your waiting mouth, greed your only sin since you were so far past lust, falling into adoration and something dangerously like—

“Please.” It spills out of Tara’s mouth, golden and warm.

“You’ve been saying ‘please’ an awful lot, Tara.”

You wrap your hand, the one not knuckle deep in Tara’s cunt, around her thigh. Squeezing, you felt the soft stockings against your palm as you guided her hips to rock into you, your fingers and your tongue. You wanted her to feel whenever she’d play the video back, for her to be able to memorize fucking your mouth, so no matter the distance, she’d remember. As if on cue, her moan echoes around the walls, in your mind.

“The camera’s gonna pick that up, you know.” Your voice is rough, out of breath with how warm it is to be under Tara.

Her voice is tight, choked. “I know, baby.”

You don’t stop, only shifting slightly to get your thumb on her clit, so you can lean back. You swipe your tongue on your bottom lip, tasting her so sweet, and you watch her eyes, fading in and out of focus, tracking your motion.

“Gonna—”

“Tara,” you laugh, but it’s a warning. She whines, hips twitching, and you can see her lip between her teeth.

“Gonna—oh god—it’s—”

“Gonna what?” You mock, flexing your fingers. “You can do better than that.”

“Please, let me come?” Something warm unfurls in your chest at Tara knowing you want her to ask, your perfect girl, even when she’s so far gone.

“Why?” Your question makes Tara still her hips, which is saying something. “Why should I let you, baby?”

She’s quiet, and since you’ve always been weak for her, you take pity. Your heart’s racing, and the heat in your stomach craves to just see her.

“You’re so good for me, my love… why should I let you come?”

“Because—” Tara breaks off with a lovely little whine, and then it hits her. It breaks up into a floaty feeling in her stomach, like a plume of sparks. Her thighs are trembling around your head, and you lean up to smear her slick on your lips, nudging her clit. “Because I’m your good girl.”

“That’s it, doll,” you murmur. “Come for me, Tara.”

And Tara comes, white hot and tense against you, and in that moment, you think you believe in magic. You want to invent something new just to eternalize her with more than the camera, something more than memory. She’s breathing hard, and you wiggle yourself out from under her. Pliant in your arms, she’s quiet as you help her lay down gently on the covers. For you, your mind was anything but quiet. You think you could run anywhere just to feel Tara, and you can’t resist smiling. Crawling over to give her a peck on the lips, you think Tara’s done—she’s blinking sleepily, eyes flicking between you and the camera, so you move between her knees to shuffle her stockings off, skin against skin. You hear her clear her throat, breaking your trance of fondness.

You look up—you see Tara look to the camera again, and your eyes helplessly follow. She’s got a mischievous little quirk to her lips, like she just knows how bad you wanted to see her come, and…

“You’re gonna tell me those dirty things now, aren’t you?”

a/n cont'd: 🌝

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

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ajortga · 25 days

Text

competition

pairing: slytherin!toxic!jenna ortega x ravenclaw!fem reader

summary: jenna loves to joke around, you both know it. as she gets braver and braver with her jokes, it comes with a price, eventually hurting you and taking away something you loved most.

warnings: slight angst, teasing remarks, heavy makeout scene, rushed ending, enemies to lovers

word count: 5.2k+

based off request!

Jenna criticizes literally everything about R's performance (J's an ass here 😓), while R is actually starting to get really pressured, J would always have something to say, thennn R gets tired of J's bs and begins focusing on themselves more, which would lead to R ignoring J for atleast a month or two, obviously J's pride is awfully. THEN J CONFESSES TO HER FRIEND, (how inlove she is w R and how she misses R sm) WITHOUT KNOWING THAT R IS NEARBY, OVERHEARING EVERYTHING. 😍😍 A DAY AFTER... R JUST TAKES J IN A PRIVATE ROOM AND KISSING TF OUTTA HER.

Slytherin Jenna! x Ravenclaw R!

Your test paper gets put on your desk, your teacher murmuring a small, “I expected better, Y/N.”

There was a 65% circled in red and it made you sick to your stomach, you had never gotten a low score before, especially in potions. You knew your concoctions and effects, you swear you had mixed everything perfectly. You groan in frustration, cursing to yourself.

Your hand scrunches, breathing in deeply as you ruffle your hair, now hearing the voice of the person you would rather befriend a frog with and use them first as a sacrifice for a blood sucking demon.

“How can someone fail a potions exam? You managed to get first place for being the biggest dweeb, messing up the easiest class.” Jenna slightly smirks, teasingly as she approaches you and whispers sharply in your ear, your eyes glaring at her. “It’s impressive you didn’t notice a small switch of potions. All I did was switch the labels of the potions which had the same color and you didn’t even notice.”

Of course she switched up the potions to set you up for failing, “You know how important this is to me.”

“Aw.. I’m so sorry Y/N,” she mocks, “What a pity.” She pouts, “I don’t care.”

You want to smack her in the face, maybe throw that explosive potion you made to melt off her face, but you don’t. At this point you’re thinking of something to get her back, packing your spell books.

“I swear she won’t get off my shoulders, I haven’t done a single damn thing to Ortega.”

Emma laughs, nudging you, “Maybe she just likes teasing someone sweet like you.”

An annoyed exhale leaves your lips, not knowing what she meant by that, “Well she better stop it,” you grab your broom stick.

Your friend thinks a little, “Just put a small spell on her broomstick! Nothing, you know, to make her hurt, just maybe throw her off balance.”

That interests you, you're trying to think of a sparkle you could just add onto hers. You notice she hasn’t gone to class yet and clearly you can see the large stick hidden between her name. As you approach, your fingers touch the stick, feeling the way your body immediately focuses, then you pull your finger away to go back to Emma. You feel like you shouldn’t, but you don’t feel a single ounce of guilt as a smirk forms when you reach her.

“Come on,” you urge, taking Emma’s hand as you make your way outside with your broom sticks.

You use your right hand, grabbing it forward as Mrs. Hooch stays on the side, watching. You’ve all gotten the hang of it either way, it’s rare for some people to fall.

“Up!” Emma and you say in unison, seeing your sticks fly up as you smile at each other and hop on, ready for a flight.

You giggle, feeling yourself ascend.

“Y/L/N,” You hear Jenna’s voice behind you, making your figure turn to face her. You see her stiffen.

Emma gives you a look, cunning.

“Ortega,” you greet, not so politely, but not rude nonetheless.

“I’d challenge you to a racing match, but I do know that your ass is scared that I’ll beat and outrun you in seconds.”

You give out a snarky laugh, “I highly doubt you could even reach me by the time I ascend. I’m better at you than flying, we both know that.”

Jenna does know that, sort of. And she doesn’t want you to prove it, not during flight class while everyone is watching.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind and don’t want to challenge me, niñita,” you respond again, seeing the way Jenna was thinking.

“Then I challenge you,”

“And I accept.”

Emma nudges you, you hear her whisper in your ear, “Well, she’d probably complain, you did sort of spell her broom and she’d notice as soon as she’d get on.”

A grin forms on your lips, tearing your eyes from the tiny Jenna, “Well, I spelled it so that if Jenna were to try anything, cause that’s the bitch she is, the spell would take effect. I’m not entirely making myself win at all. I know for a fact she’d try to make me loose, she doesn’t want to lose at all, well at least to me. I know her long enough to know she’d put a spell to make me lose balance, Em.”

You see Hooch in the corner of your eye, “Plus, Hooch is watching everything, and because I spelled her broom before hand, nothing will happen until she aims some spell at me. Hooch will see that, or at least a little sparkle and chant of words. But she won’t see mine, since I spelled it before, and she’ll just think Jenna lost her balance trying to spell me.”

Emma looks at you, not knowing if you should go on.

“Em! Seriously, Jenna has been making me miserable this year, and I haven’t done anything. This is just a playful harmless thing. It’s the least I can do. I could’ve spawned a rat in her dorm that follows her everywhere!”

“Go, I sort of want to see her fall.”

The grin that disappeared forms again, winking at her as you hop back on your broom.

Then you two are off.

You rush through the field, feeling the wind blow through your hair. You loved feeling that cool breeze, it’s unreal, flying is your favorite thing to do.

Jennas not far behind, but far enough to know that you’ll win.

She groans to herself, watching your pretty, she meant nasty figure speed ahead.

The brunette’s eyes narrow, she wasn’t going to let you win without a fight, she focuses on your broom, she’s close enough to do something.

The wind is making your hair go crazy, but in a good way. Everyone is waiting their turn from below, watching you race through the course. Fast enough to feel their hair blow from your swiftness.

An exhale pasts her lips, you can see her trying to come closer, or almost urging you to slow down. But you don’t, of course you won’t. You speed faster, dodging an incoming tree and turning a corner.

Jenna feels blood rushing through her ears, murmuring something under her breath as she gets ready to swish through you and laugh.

She begins the spell, feeling her fingertips slightly tingle. But as soon as she’s about to shoot a spark, her hands let go and she sees the blue flying spark stumble towards you. Instead of it hitting your broom and making it shake, your hair flies through the wind and it shoots back at her.

Jenna yelps, feeling the way her broom starts to shake.

Emma giggles from the sidelines, as soon as you pass the blonde’s figure, you send her a thumbs up and a knowing wink.

God finally.

The brunette loses her balance, feeling the broom shake left and right, she’s clinging onto it tightly, smacks her head on loose branches. She feels herself slow down to regain a steady pace, but as she speeds up again, you’re already gone, swerving a corner.

The tiny brunette grumbles from the benches, watching you smile and jump up and down.

“Impressive play out there, Y/N. You just might be our best flier out there, keep your swift performance and you’ll be on for Quidditch.”

You already knew you’d win, even if Jenna hit your broom with her spell. You’ve won every time racing against the class.

You approach her, giving her a half-hearted smile, you’d take it as a smirk.

“Well, someone tried to cheat.”

You hear her huff, and it makes you giggle, you brush off the stick that is stuck in her hair.

“I regret doing that, Em, that tiny tiny 3 foot 1 foot cockroach is making me fall into her traps,” you murmur, stomping your foot.

“At least you got a taste of revenge, Y/N.”

“I guess so,” you say, sinking into your seat, you feel yourself begin to find her playful and harmless banters to be stressful by every joke and scandal that girl plays.

As Quidditch season approaches, Jenna swipes her hair to the side, tying it up as you watch her with narrow eyes. It’s just a regular racing match this time. No ball. Just two talented people against each other.

Well, one more talented than the other, you think to yourself

Hooch brings you two together, in which you stare each other down, your gaze not faltering on each other.

“Goodluck, I wish you two a fair match.”

You two shake hands, though you both won’t admit it was a genuine one. You give Jenna a final glare before gazing back at the field, focusing.

“Ready?” Hooch says, you don’t respond, just a subtle nod.

“And.. Up!”

You and Jenna shout at your brooms.

“Up!” you command, seeing your favorite item fly up, you jump on it.

Then you both swing off.

Again, not long after, does Hooch see the way your practicing and after school matches with friends are working well. You’re much farther than Jenna is, and again, it’s like no other match. But this time Jenna isn’t going to let you win again.

She growls, casting spells onto your broom and immediately, you feel your broom slow down.

“What the hell.” You mutter to yourself, you dive down. But it seems like your broom isn’t listening.

It’s swishing up and down, left to right, and you steady yourself, but you’re shaking.

You're swinging back and forth and you're losing control, you can’t make your broom stop. It’s not like just a shake of your broom and you lose balance before catching yourself, this time it’s worse. Your broom isn’t listening.

You scream to yourself, not too loud. But Mrs. Hooch can see the way Jenna is catching up, she knows Jenna did something, but it’s not looking good. Sure playful banters were okay.

But instead of dodging a tree, you smack your head straight into the leafiness, feeling the thorns of the leaves sink and cut beneath your eye. Jenna swishes through you, not looking back. The pain immediately comes through, harsh stings roaring through your skin. You cry out, completely losing balance on your broom, crashing into the tree harshly and feeling your head bang into the wood.

Jenna still hasn’t noticed the damage she’s caused.

You feel yourself fall.

Farther and farther.

Till your body crashes down on the grassy field, your bones from the fall aren’t helping. You hear the way they crack. And then you feel warm blood trickling down your forehead and down from the cut on your eye. You whimper.

Black spots invade your vision and you feel carsick. But you know you’re not in a car.

Your eyes flutter, making a soft groan as Emma approaches you. You can barely see her worried face but you know she’s scared.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” She says, it’s muffled. You don’t respond, her figure is blurry, you can barely see her blue eyes.

Before you can even think of a response, your eyes shut.

And as Jenna reaches the finish line, she just turns around, to notice you at least tens of feet below from her, collapsed on the ground and curled up. She can’t help but feel a gasp fall from her lips, diving down and getting off her broom stick.

She didn’t mean for it to get this chaotic, she was just hoping you’d crash into a branch and get all angry and fussy. Not get hurt. As she approaches closer, she sees blood trickling down your face as your chest heaves up and down. Emma looks at you, worriedly as everyone surrounds you two.

Jenna feels something that she doesn’t want to admit, she feels guilty for hurting you. You had barely done anything to her, but she’s messed with you countless times, you’ve gotten in trouble for it.

And you never ratted her out. The one time you decide to get her back, she’s taken things too far.

“God,” she murmurs, her voice betraying her as she pushes through the crowds of people, “Is she okay?”

The way her friend turns to her, your best friend looks like she’s about to explode, “Does she look okay? DOES SHE LOOK OKAY JENNA? What the hell were you thinking?” the blonde says the last part half aloud, where only Ortega can hear.

“I didn’t think she’d get hurt!” Jenna retorts, kneeling down and putting her hesitant hand over your chest, feeling the way it was beating quickly, chest going up and down, up down.

Immediately nurses come and drag you out, Emma following you as they take you to the infirmary.

Jenna feels herself following too, until Hooch catches up with her.

“Ortega!” Her voice is loud, screeching as she pulls Jenna off to the side, “what on earth do you think you were doing? You’ve gotten Y/N seriously hurt because of a stupid practice match! Don’t think I didn’t catch the lame spell you’ve cast.” her eyes are wild, angry, “You know we don’t allow spells on the battlefield, I know some of Hogwarts students have broken it, but it’s never been so severe, you’ve hurt her tremendously. She’s bleeding, and I think she’ll suffer some sprains.”

Jenna nods, she understands. Sort of. She wants to understand, she knows what she did was bad. Hooch takes a deep breath, “I’m disappointed with you.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t know if Y/N will heal in three months, she’s been our best and fastest player, with quick decisions and speedy moves. She might have to sit out on Quidditch, I was looking forward to taking the trophy this season. And I would disqualify you, send you to detention after school everyday till she properly heals,” Hooch takes a deep breath, “But you have to be one of our players because you have the ability to. That doesn’t mean that you won’t get detention. I’ll even ask Dumbledore to exclude you from house games.

God, Jenna didn’t mean to make you be kicked out this season. She knew how much you wanted it. She can’t help but feel guilty.

Hooch’s voice once again speaks up, “And I expect you to apologize and pay her a visit. You two have never gotten along, but I know you both care about each other. Even if it’s slight.”

A soft nod leaves her, her eyes lingering on your small figure that is now being taken to surgery. Maybe she’ll slow down with the pranks.

As soon as visitors are allowed in, Jenna begins to stand up and approach your door.

“Ortega, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Don’t open that door,” it’s Emma's voice, but this time she sounds much more angry. Unlike the voice the brunette is used to hearing.

The way Jenna stands there, Emma narrows her eyes, “You’ve already hurt her, what more can you need? Unplug the oxygen tank and start laughing your stubborn ass up? I don’t think so.”

She was taken by surprise, the fact that both you and Emma have gotten used to her tricks, she feels herself biting her lip.

“N-no.. No, not anything like that. I just wanted to apologize. I know my tricks have gone a bit farther than expected.”

Emma approaches her, pressing her finger to Jenna’s chest, “You’ve hurt her more than enough, and I can see it. She’s done nothing to you! Nothing!” your best friend growls, and Jenna backs up.

“You just don’t understand how much you’ve pressured her! Because you’re too busy standing there like the spoiled person you are on your banters.”

Jenna smacks her hands off, raising both of her hands to show she’s ‘surrendering,’ “I know, I know Em! Just let me apologize.”

“Not when she’s just about to wake up, you wouldn’t want the least expected person who hurt you to show up as soon as you wake up. Give her time,” the blonde grumbles, shushing her back to her seat as she enters your room. Jenna stands up again, noticing you're still unconscious.

Emma can feel her presence, and decides not to turn back as she sits on the chair next to you. Your face lost its color. None of the pink shade that tinted your cheeks when Jenna teased you. The pink shade that she wanted to see was gone, replaced by a pale, tired face, sound asleep.

There were cuts all over you, she saw some bruises and there was a big bandage wrapped around your right cheek. She also saw a deep cut that was gauzed up in your arm. She winced. A few broken bones maybe.

She didn’t know it was this bad. The only noise was Emma’s sniffles, and the small beep of your heartbeat’s monitor. Jenna sighs, scooting closer and hesitantly bringing her hand close to your face. She felt like if she were to touch you, you would turn into dust.

Her hand gently traces your fast, your nose slightly twitches, but she knows you’re too weak to move or wake up. Then she brushes through your hair, it’s weird beginning to see all the times she’s treated you wrongly as something she shouldn’t have done. Each trick got worse than the other, more risky of being harmed. And now look at you, all broken and bruised.

I didn’t mean it, Jenna thinks, looking down at your tiny figure.

I really didn’t mean it.

Your eyes flutter closed, and immediately you close them again, groaning from the whitest most lightest light you’ve ever encountered, covering yourself with a blanket. As soon as you move, you moan softly in pain, feeling pain roar through your body.

“Stay still,” you hear a familiar voice say, you can’t lend your finger on it. It sounds pretty, and before you can process it your brain switches that thought off. It’s your annoying rival that casted a spell that got you here in the first place. Jenna stupid Ortega.

You grunt, looking up at her, you feel bandages around you, avoiding contact with the brunette.

“Emma should be back soon, she was getting some flowers for you.”

“Good, then you can leave.”

Harsh.

You hear the way Jenna sighs, and you shake it off, turning slightly so you can face the entertaining wall instead of her.

“Look Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“Please, can’t you see I’m apologizing?”

“No, Jenna. You knew I didn’t like these things you did to me before. And you decide to apologize now? Do you think it’s going to make me forgive you just like that?” You say, turning back at her, a storm brews behind your eyes.

“I can’t participate in the one thing I was looking forward to this season! Just because you put this spell that you knew could harm me badly! You knew I wanted to be in Quidditch!” Jenna winces at your increasing voice.

“You could’ve been on the team too! It’s not just one of us! But you got your actions in the way before you could even think! And now you want to apologize?” It's loud, your voice begins to falter a little. Your shoulders untense, and Jenna can hear the monitor of your heart increase by four times, she shushes you, pulling you onto your back.

“Stop,” she says, her voice is too soft for your liking, you can’t think. Too much is going on in your mind, “Please.”

“Get out Jenna.”

“W-what? You don’t understand.. I’m trying to-”

“Jenna, get the hell out!” You snap, your eyes filled to the max with unshed tears.

You stay silent, before cracking out a tiny, “Please.”

And like that, Jenna walks out of the room, murmuring an “I’m sorry.”

Just this time, she really wanted you to know that she meant it.

It’s been a month, and by now your arm was barely healing, and there was a stupid ugly mark of a cut on your face. The pain was harsh, if your arm didn’t heal by the time Quidditch began, all your practice and effort would flush down the drain. It scared you.

As bad as the pain got, your mark would probably never fade, there would always be a purple cut marked under your eye. Even once it’s completely healed, ones that meet you will notice your cut, in a lighter shade than your actual skin tone. It made you cry every night, silently.

It was stupid to cry over, your deep bruises weren’t even close to healing. Every time you would accidentally press into it, you’d shriek in pain. You felt insecure of yourself. It didn’t feel good, every time you’d look at yourself in the mirror there would be your healing cuts scarred over your body.

“It looks s-so ugly..” You hiccup, looking at yourself in the mirror, Emma by your side as she shakes her head, “Nonsense, it’s okay.”

“It might never go away.”

“And that’s okay, when you're older, you’ll find it silly, I promise. It’s a reminder of being here, and to remind you that competition is less superior when it comes to safety.”

You can’t help but feel yourself shrink, watching the scar on your face haunt you.

Jenna sees you in the hallways, you're in half her classes. But every single time she looks at you, you’re never looking her way. Not like before. Not when exam scores are passed out during Snape or McGonagall when you usually turn around and she waves her high score in the air, but you always wave yours back, grinning happily when you got one percent higher than her. She found you annoying, but now she feels like she’s taken you for granted. You were the one who taught her how to properly care for her plant in Herbology, although most of the time she’s retained information from the random songs and joking nerdy remarks.

Jenna hated sitting next to you in that class, she loved teasing you and making you explode from frustration. She hated the way you looked at her and had the ability to somehow use some Hogwarts nonsense to make her think back at your smile.

It was something you did to her, it couldn’t have been herself, she’d never be thinking of your smile or you in general. You must’ve casted a spell on her.

Yet she remembers that she’s thinking about you right now.

Anyways, she hated the way you smirked at her and kept kicking your feet to hers, then growing some mushroom on her damn shoe.

“What the fuck Y/N? Why is there a green toadstool on my fucking foot?” She says, angrily as you laugh and fall out of your seat. She tries shaking off the small mushroom with her foot, but then it makes it grow even bigger.

And by the end of the day there is a 20 foot mushroom on her shoe, shading her as she walks home, heading straight for the knife to cut it off.

The thought made her smile a bit. She didn’t want to admit it, she didn’t know how you did it. Or maybe when she kept tapping her pen to purposely annoy you, then when you snapped, light blue sparkles flew out of your mouth and made your voice sound wonky.

Now, you barely looked at her. For the entirety of when you were gone, you had to catch up. She felt a little relieved, you could finally talk to her by asking for notes. Didn’t want to admit the pit in her chest when you asked the person behind you.

I’m sorry, Jenna thinks, she wants to scream at you and apologize until you forgive her.

You ignored her, and she knew she deserved it. She treated you so wrongly. Sure she knew you never mind those moments she looked back to, but she knew that she grew more and more brave with her pranks, growing less and less cautious of even thinking of your safety and feelings.

She hates seeing that look in your eyes as everyone in Hooch’s class shouts, “Up!” with excitement, and you sit there, alone on the bleachers as you watch.

As you watch your whole class fly off, Emma giving you a small, concerned look, and a tight-lipped, forceful smile forms on your lips, assuring you were fine.

She hates the way she can remember the smile leaving your lips as Emma leaves off for the race, then looking down with melancholy traced in your features.

I’m sorry.

The shorter brunette can’t stand the way you look at everyone fly off, knowing that someone that you know won’t be you will probably take your place in Quidditch. She can see it in your eyes, kicking the dirt, hoping that somehow you can kick the pain and broken limbs away.

This time, she can’t tear your eyes away from your tiny figure.

Yet she knows that you won’t even look at her, never noticing the sympathetic stares she gives you, replaced with the ones once filled with competition.

Emma’s voice is dull, almost like she doesn’t want to talk to Jenna after the incident.

“You’re seriously asking me to have Y/N talk to you?” she questions, looking at her with suspicion.

“Please, Em! It’s been a month, and I’ve been trying to apologize.”

The blonde crosses her arms, trying to defend you, “Well what if she doesn’t want to talk to you or apologize?”

“I don’t care!” Jenna throws her arms in the air, “I know what I did was wrong and if I’m being honest, class is getting boring without having her competition and silly remarks behind my back.”

Jenna freezes, what she says kind of sounds weird.

Emma hums, then she turns to Jenna, “So, what are you saying Jenna?”

“I care about her!” She groans, rubbing her cheeks, “I’m starting to think that I’ve cared about her since I met her but didn’t know till my actions got her hurt. I was going to apologize but now I’m shitting desperate. She won’t get out of my mind and.. I don’t know!”

Jenna groans, trying to think of what this was, “I just keep thinking about the things she doesn’t do anymore, and it’s sad not having her by my side. I feel guilty. And I need to apologize even more so she can get out of my head! Em, please, I can’t get that stupid silly cute smile out of my head. And I can’t damn focus knowing that the girl that sits next to me in McGonagall is full on avoiding me!”

She doesn’t realize the way she’s been rambling, she looks at Emma, whose face expression has changed. In some way, she’s slightly having a grin on her face, “You’re in love with her.”

“What? I don’t know! Maybe, I just-I feel bad, and I want to apologize and make it okay again. It’s just so dull and I’ll.. I don’t even fucking know. I just miss her and the way it used to be.”

“You should’ve told me that,” your soft voice sing-songs from behind her, making her tense up and turn around.

“Y/N,” Jenna stutters.

“Jenna,” you mumble, voice slightly breathy.

“I didn’t think you were-” she squeals in surprise as you drag her by the arm, panting softly as you drag her into a room, god who knows what Hogwarts classroom this is.

“Look Y/N, I’m sorry, but why are we in someones-mmph.” You seal her lips with a random spell under your lips and you place your finger to her mouth.

You slightly smirk, god she missed it, she looks down at your lips, she rolls her eyes, “Apologize to me and I’ll let you do what you’ve wanted to do.” You undo your spell, taking off your finger from her mouth as she begins to speak.

“Wha?-”

“Go on.”

You were teasing her, and she breathed, “Okay, I’m sorry. For hurting you, I know I went too far,” she was rambling as she speaks a little faster, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just felt more brave as much as I teased you and I know I went too far this time. And I promise I didn’t try to hurt you, I know how much Quidditch meant to you..” she gulps again, taking a breath. “What I did led to a lot of things, and I’ve noticed the way I grew upset when I knew you began to avoid me, and I’ll admit I miss you.” Jenna says the last part hesitantly.

The brunette looked up at you and you were looking at her, hesitant eyes, but almost filled with need? She now noticed the more visible cut on your eye, and you look away, seeing her gaze on the mark you were most insecure on, you cover your face.

“Stop that,” Jenna smacks your hands away and it feels like her hesitation swept away, she slowly reached up to cup your cheeks, in which your uncertainty melted. She looks at the mark, it was better than when she saw you unconscious on the floor. That’s all that matters. She wants to roll her eyes but now she feels weird when she does that.

“Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, “Just a little.”

"I'm sorry about Quidditch."

"I'm still angry about that, my arm should heal soon though, before it starts."

.. An awkward silence passes, then you look down at her pink lips.

Jenna hums, then you tug her closer, making a small whine.

“Please kiss me.”

Jenna’s eyes widen, taking her hands away from your cheeks.

“What?”

“Please,” you plead, your eyes filled with want.

Her eyes flicker from your lips as she cups your cheeks again and brings you to her mouth. As they meet, you’re all small and soft moans, kissing her with need. Hunger. It’s different. Teasing you doesn’t come with words, she’s teasing you with her mouth, feeling the way you grip onto her.

More more more, don’t stop.

You taste exactly how Jenna thought you would, but just so much better. So addicting, it makes her mind spin with you. Coca cola and addictive vanilla. It mixes well with the taste of hers, you let her capture your tongue. It’s feverish, tongue and want combined. She indulges in the way you make a tiny moan as she nibbles your tongue. Your wanting lips push harder to hers, your body pressing against her as you slightly find something to grind against.

It’s heated and different. She tugs you closer, finding it adorable as you pull away for a tiny breath, then continue, like you don’t want to stop feeling her lips on yours. Her hands. Your fingers tugging against her hair.

Long moments after you pull away, you both are panting, your head buried deep into her chest. She rubs your hair.

“I didn’t think you were that experienced,” you whisper.

She rolls her eyes, pressing her lips to your forehead, “I didn’t think you’d pull me into a room and start begging me to kiss you and make out with you.”

“Mm..”

“Well, did my kisses grant your forgiveness for me?

“Maybe.”

“What if I give you another round?”

She smirks, seeing the way you lean back into her.

“Deal.”

She presses her lips that just left yours once again, feeling your hands tangle back into her hair.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #vada cavell x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega smut #jenna ortega x y/n #harry potter au

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marvelfilth · 8 months

Text

Angel (18+)

Pairing: stripper!Tara Carpenter x f! lawyer!reader

Warnings: no ghostface AU, Tara is 21, R is 27, smut, lap dance, pole dance, alcohol consumption, tipsy driving (pls don't do that), fingering, a bit of degradation and praise

Summary: You need to unwind. Angel gives you more than you could have ever asked for.

Masterlist

You've had a bad month. Scratch that, you've had the worst month of your career. You've lost one of your loyal clients to a rival and your boss chewed you out over it, and, to top it off, you've lost a case you've been working on for the past four months.

You blink back the exhaustion, leaning back on the railing of your office balcony. You've been nursing your whiskey for the past hour, hoping it'll chase away your gnawing thoughts, but to no avail, you're still deep in your head, rethinking every decision that led you to this.

You check your wrist watch, the platinum glistening in the city lights, and decide to finally head home. You finally relax once you're in your car, putting the key in the ignition and driving off, leaving the day behind. You take a familiar route, driving almost on autopilot and humming along to the song on the radio, fingers drumming on the wheel.

You're almost home when you change your mind and make a sharp turn on the next intersection, heading to a place you haven't been to in months.

Two men in the front greet you with identical nods, holding the door open for you, sensual music spilling into the bustling street. Your eyes zero in on the bar, not paying any attention to the stage and the dancers, happy to see a familiar face handling alcohol tonight.

"Tough day?" Amber asks with a sympathetic smile, placing a full glass in front of you.

"Tough month," you sigh, not in the mood for a conversation.

She offers one more smile before turning to another guest, sensing your desire to be left alone. Her eyes take on a new glint, lips slightly pursed in a cute pout as she talks to a clean shaved man. You scoff in your drink and shake your head, ignoring the glare she sends you.

Leaning back against the bar you settle to simply people watch for some time, maybe get a dance or two from a pretty woman.

"You should ask for Angel," Amber says, wiping the counter. You look at her in question, your glass stopping midway to your mouth. "She's new, but she's good. You could use some unwinding and she's the best at it, trust me."

You nod slowly and ask for a refill before leaving her a tip and walking off to a secluded booth in the back of the club, settling back on the couch and trying to find a new face in the sea of dancers you already know well. Out of the corner of your eye you see Felicity, a fiery redhead with no filter. She effortlessly glides on the dancefloor in her nine inch heels, red lingerie catching eyes of gaping men with pockets full of cash. She bends in a sensual move, her thong granting a perfect view of her round ass. You hum when money starts falling in waves, making the floor disappear. She deserves that and more.

She catches your eye, brow raising suggestively, to which you shake your head no.

"Waiting for someone?" A voice whispers right in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Your head turns to be met with the eyes of a stranger inches away from your own, lips painted blood red and pulled into a smirk.

You swallow, feeling the swell of her breasts against your arm that's resting on the back of the couch, and shake your head tersely, not trusting your voice just yet. She bites her lower lip and pulls away to slowly walk around the couch, making sure to show off her assets.

Almost all of her body is bare, her lacy push up bra making her breasts look good enough to throw handfuls of cash at her feet. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the full globes, then lowers to a dark red triangle of fabric between her legs held by a thin string. She takes her sweet time in caging you against the leather cushions, draping herself over your lap, hands settling on your shoulders.

You take this opportunity to study her features: the slope of her small nose; the freckles dusted all over her upper cheeks; her dark and inviting eyes, eagerly drinking you up with the same vigor; her full lips, painted red and waiting to be claimed.

She takes your whiskey and sips, expertly masking the distaste behind an alluring smile, but you still catch the way her eyes momentarily squeeze in a fleeting grimace, making you bite back a chuckle.

"I'm Angel. What's your name?" She purrs, hips moving to the beat as she plays with the hair at the nape of your neck. You see some men glare at you with jealousy, their jaws grinding. Angel must be fairly popular to grant a reaction like that.

"Does it matter?" You husk, struggling to keep your hands to yourself.

"Mysterious, huh?" She chuckles, arching against your chest, her barely covered breasts almost spilling out right in your face, hips moving in circles against your crotch. "I like that."

You hum, settling back to watch her flexible body roll against your slowly relaxing one, her lower lip pulled between pearly white teeth.

"There you go," she whispers, sliding her palm down your chest, her other hand tangling in your hair, nails scratching your scalp. It feels so good you almost purr. "Tell me what got you so wound up."

You sigh and take another sip of your drink before answering. "Lost my top client."

She hums, her torso moving in a slow hypnotic circle, before leaning back into you to whisper right in your ear. "Their loss."

She pulls back to look you in the eye, the space between you almost crackling with tension.

"Hey Angel," one of the men that's been glaring at you calls out, waving a couple of twenty dollar bills in the air. "Come give me a dance."

She doesn't even look in his direction, but you silently reach for your wallet, taking out three hundred dollar bills and pushing them under the string of her thong. "Stay."

Her eyes widen and she bites her lip before nodding. She throws her head back, hands leaving your shoulder to slide up her waist to cup her breasts, pushing them together inches away from your face. Your heart hammers in your chest, and you have to grip your thighs to keep yourself from touching her. She rises on her knees and changes the position, her back now to your front, ass snugly against your crotch.

You finish your whiskey in one gulp, your breath hitching. Her wavy hair gets in your face and you breathe in the enticing scent of her perfume mixed with the essence of her. She turns her head, looking at you with half lidded eyes. "You like that?"

"I do," you reply, noting the slight blush rising on her cheeks.

"Want to move somewhere private?" She asks, her eager tone cracking the unbothered facade she's been putting on.

You nod and follow her to the other side of the club, Amber sending you thumbs up from behind the bar before going back to flirting with another drunk man, crisp bills filling her pockets.

You're led to a dark hallway that leads to private rooms, anticipation buzzing under your skin. She nods at the security guard, the man looking you up and down before he lets you through. She locks the door and you wander deeper into the room, taking a seat on the velvety couch.

Sensual music starts spilling from the speakers before she turns sharply, a devilish smirk on her lips. She saunters to the pole, hips swaying in tune with the music, eyes never leaving yours as she hooks her leg over the metal and twirls. She closes her eyes, losing herself in the dance, and grips the pole before bending, back arched, the swell of her ass right in front of your face.

You exhale, nearly biting down on your knuckles from the need to turn her around and fuck her right on the floor. "Angel," you breathe out. She faces you and drops to her knees, legs spread as her hips move up and down, arms over her head as she grips the pole. "Yes?"

You pat your lap and without a moment of hesitation she climbs on top of your thighs, taking off her bra. You bite back a moan when her breasts spill out, pinkish nipples begging for your mouth. She takes hold of your neck, her forehead pressed against yours as she rocks her hips on your lap, her breathing labored. She weaves languidly against your tense torso, her lips brushing against your cheek before she pulls away to settle her hands on your chest, nails scratching your white shirt.

"Fuck," you close your eyes, enjoy the press of lithe body, arousal coursing through your veins. She hums, her center flush against your thigh and you feel her wetness smear on the fabric of your slacks. Your fingers clench uselessly at your sides. "You're enjoying this," you state, searching her face for an answer.

"More than you can imagine," she whispers, grinding down on your thigh with intent. Her nipples brush against your chest and she moans quietly, repeating the motion. You unconsciously thrust up, your pelvis connecting with her heat just as she is rolling down, sending pleasure through her body. She grabs your shoulders and your eyes lock. You thrust again, intentionally this time, your palms planted firmly on the couch to add force. Her hips rock, her needy moans filling your ears.

You can't take your eyes off her.

Fuck that, you think, before planting your hands on her hips, directing her movements, and pulling her into a feverish kiss. Her lips are impossibly soft, and her tongue tastes like whiskey and some fruity cocktail she's probably had earlier. Your hands move from her hips to her breasts, squeezing.

"Yes," she moans, greedily pushing against you. "More, please."

You hesitate only for a moment before lowering your mouth to her nipple, sucking it in with hunger you didn't know you possessed. She bites on her knuckles, hiding a loud moan from the guards behind the door. Your fingers itch with the need to tear off her thong and plunge deep into her soaking pussy, claiming the most vulnerable part of the petite brunette.

"How does that feel?" Your teeth graze against the underside of her breast before you take the other nipple in your mouth, tongue sliding on the hardened nub.

"Like I'm about to come," she whimpers, messily humping on your thigh. "Need you inside," she pleads, taking hold of your hand.

You follow her lead, your fingers easily pushing her thong aside and dipping between her slick folds, strands of wetness clinging to your digits. She buckles against your hand in search of friction, and you teasingly circle her clit, pulling a delicious moan out of her lips. "Like that?" You tease, even though you're as affected as she is.

"Yes- fuck, just like that," she whimpers.

"What about the rules, Angel? You gonna tell your boss about this?"

She shakes her head. "No, I promise. Fuck the rules." She desperately clings to your wrist, pressing your palm against her heat.

It's all you need to finally thrust your fingers inside her cunt. She cries out, biting your shoulder to hide the sound, and starts moving her hips up and down, meeting your fingers halfway.

"Such a bad girl you are, Angel. Riding a stranger like a slut," you grunt, fastening your pace. Filthy sounds fill the room as your fingers keep disappearing in her pussy, bringing her closer to the edge. Suddenly, a misplaced spark of jealousy ignites something deep inside your chest. "Do you do this with everyone, Angel? Do you spread your legs for strangers every night?"

"No," she gasps, tilting your face up and bringing you in for a kiss. "Just you," she moans against your lips, "only you."

The fire inside your chest burns. "Good."

Her walls clench around you, mouth wide open as she moans loudly. You force her mouth shut, pressing your palm against her lips, her eyes widening before they roll to the back of her head. Your thumb slides on her clit in tight circles, fingers curling to touch her sweet spot. She bites down on your knuckles, desperately chasing her orgasm, arousal dripping down her thighs. You add a third finger, stretching her tight pussy, and spread them inside.

"Come for me, Angel," you rasp, pushing deep inside. She cries out, squeezing around your fingers as she comes. She curls into you, hiding her face in the slope of your neck. "Good girl," you praise, kissing her temple, your fingers buried inside her wet heat.

There's a loud knock and a gruff voice sounds from behind the door. "Everything alright, Angel?"

She sits up, eyes wide and alert, and looks at the clock near the door. Your private session ended ten minutes ago.

"I- I have to go," she scurries away, putting on her bra on her way to the door.

"Wait," you call out, catching her wrist before she could touch the handle. "Stay, please."

Her eyes flicker to your lips before she throws herself at you, hands around your waist, kissing you with fervor. You press her against the door, trailing kisses all over her neck, wishing you could leave marks for her to remember you by.

There's another knock and a threat to break down the door. Angel pulls away with one last peck before disappearing behind the door.

The rest of the week goes better after that night. You feel like the burden that's been sitting on your shoulders got smaller, granting you more hours of sleep and allowing you to look your boss in the eye without feeling inferior. You can't help but think back on the girl that so easily brought this change on you. Sometimes when you're caught up in paperwork in the late hours of night you catch yourself wishing you were back in that private room, looking at her instead of some boring corporate nonsense. Your fingers squeeze around the pen with need to touch her again, to unravel her, to savor her taste.

On a Friday night you decide to leave the office early and head to the club, but a phone call stops you in your tracks.

"Hey, hope I'm not interrupting."

You smile, always happy to hear from your friend. "You're not, I'm… heading home early."

"Great. Perfect, actually. I know it's a bit last minute, but I was wondering if you'd like to come over for dinner tonight? I'm making your favorite." Sam asks, and you can hear the sound of pans hitting the stove in the background.

"What's the catch, Carpenter?"

She groans, and you can almost see her slouch against the counter. "I'm not sure if I mentioned it, but Tara is studying to be a lawyer, and I thought maybe you could give her some pointers over dinner?"

You blink, surprised by the question. In two years of your friendship with Sam you've never met her younger sister. Even though they're living together, she's never home when you're over, working double shifts to afford tuition, adamantly refusing Sam's offers to help. She likes to complain about it from time to time, but you can see she's proud of the younger girl.

Angel will be there tomorrow, and you're actually excited to finally meet Tara. It doesn't take long for you to decide which way to go. You make a quick stop at a grocery store on your way there, buying Sam's favorite beer and a bottle of wine, thinking about offering her sister an internship. If she's even half as brilliant as Sam you want her on your team once she graduates.

When you finally knock on the door, expecting to see Sam on the other side, you feel wind get knocked out of you when the woman you've been thinking about since you left the club opens it.

"... Angel?"

_______________

Thoughts?

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter smut #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega smut #angel

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celiastjamesoscar · 5 months

Text

Night Shift

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader. Sam x reporter!reader

Summary: Sam blamed you for the 2022 attacks, she blamed you for everything. But guilt drives people into blindness, and Sam eventually finds herself seeking your comfort.

AN: this is the longest fic I’ve ever written, so I apologize if at times it seems redundant. Based off of this request!

Warnings: angst, slight cursing, mentions of past drug addiction, small part of canon typical Scream violence, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of alcoholism, Tara is a little shit. Let me know if I missed anything!

My Masterlist

Word Count: 18.0K

Nothing. That’s all you could think about as you listened to the sound of Tara’s heartbeat monitor. This was your fault. You were the reason Tara was now in the hospital with multiple stab wounds and a broken leg. If only you had gotten to her house sooner, she wouldn’t be in this position. All your friends tried to tell you it wasn’t your fault, that you had no idea some dipshit in a mask was going to attack her, but you knew better.

You were only nine when it happened, but you could still feel the sharp pain of Jill Roberts’ knife plunging deep inside of your abdomen. Sometimes, you swore you could still hear her black combat boots sneaking around on the wooden floor, and the only thing that would play throughout your mind was the sweet release of not having to look over your shoulder at every sound.

The sound of Tara’s heartbeat motioning increasing in speed pulled you out of your thoughts. “Hey, Tara. It’s alright,” you whispered to the sleeping girl, but you got no response. Her heartbeat motioning began peeping so rapidly, that your own heartbeat began thumping in your ears, and it eventually blocked out Tara’s.

Your heartbeat echoed throughout your ears as it continued its rapid pace of 150 beats per minute. You had no idea why you were anxious, but then your surroundings suddenly changed. You were no longer in the monotone gray walls of a hospital, but you now found yourself in Tara’s kitchen. The smaller girl was no longer in her hospital gown; she now wore a pink long sleeve shirt and jeans, and you instantly knew where this was going.

You tried to scream, but no sound left your throat as you watched Tara answer that dreaded phone call. The pounding in your ears continued as you began to sweat and frantically tried to move, but your feet were glued to the floor; no matter how hard you tried to move, you simply could not compel your body to move. You watched as Tara fought against Ghostface, and just like every night, you watched as Ghostface plunged his knife deep into Tara’s stomach. Over and over again.

But unlike the real events that conspired, you couldn’t save Tara. In this version, you watched as Tara bled out onto the floor, her crimson red blood staining the nicely wooded flooring. Her screams were the only thing that drowned out your heartbeat, and you begged it to stop.

“Y/N! Y/N, help me!” Tara cried out in a broken voice as blood now began to seep from her mouth as she tried to crawl toward you, but Ghostface stopped her. In a single motion, he leaned down to Tara and pulled her up by her hair, and slit her throat. When he stood up, you were met with those haunting hollowed out eyes, and when you blinked, the mask was gone.

Jill Roberts stood before you with murderous eyes as she slowly started to advance toward you. You tried to walk backward, but your feet wouldn’t move. Jill was not an arms length away, and you noticed the beautiful glint of light that reflected off the blood as she brought it down in a single motion.

Before the knife could sink into your chest, you were being shaken away. “Y/N. Get up; you’re having a nightmare,” the rough voice of Sam Carpenter stated as she awoke you from your nightmare.

Your eyes instantly shot up as you leaned up from the couch, checking your surroundings. “Oh, thank you,” you weakly replied as Sam let go of your shoulders and walked away from you, not giving you a response. Sam noticed the sweat that lined your forehead and caused some of your hair to stick to her face, but she didn’t care. Why would she care about someone that ruined her life?

Technically, it wasn’t your fault, but it was easier for Sam to blame you for what happened and she liked having it that way. It was her own fucked up way of keeping you at arms length while also always keeping an eye on you.

You checked your surroundings again and you were grateful that you were in your home and not that dreaded house that Tara used to live in. You had fallen asleep at some point on the couch and you left the TV running while your homework was spread out on the coffee table in front of you. You had gained a terrible habit of staying up until ungodly hours while trying to cram in information for your exams.

You groaned while standing up from the couch and you checked the time, 11:30 pm. If Sam was still here, that meant the rest of the girls were here as well, and you dreaded the thought of being around them. That was the worst part about living with Anika; you were constantly around the people that despised you. ‘People’ as in just Sam, but you liked to make it plural for the dramatic effect.

With a sigh, you grudgingly left the living room and went into the backyard, where a fire was going with the group huddled around it while sitting on hay bales. “Good morning, Y/N,” Tara teased with a gentle smile while scooting over on her hay bale, inviting you to sit next to her. “Yeah right,” you mumbled as you sat down next to the girl, ignoring the glance Sam threw at you, “What are you guys doing out here? It’s starting to get cold.”

“We were talking shit about you, but now we can’t do that with you out here,” Mindy joked as she rested her head on Anika’s shoulder. You and Mindy had a special ‘situationship’ going on for a while, but you two ended on good terms and occasionally picked on each other. “I hope it was good then,” you replied with a smile and Mindy nodded her head.

The conversation around the fire was an ideal one as you caught up with the group about any gossip you might have missed while you were asleep. Nothing sparked your interest too much, not until Tara mentioned Sam having a boyfriend.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Sam dryly stated as she stared down her younger sister, “We’re just friends, that’s all.”

“You have been saying that for months, Sam! All you two do is check each other out but you never talk! You have to give this guy a chance!” Tara exclaimed and you felt an unwarranted feeling of jealousy shoot throughout your chest. “What guy are you guys talking about?” You asked, starting to get more involved with the current conversion.

“This guy that has been after Sam’s heart ever since we moved here,” Tara casually remarked as she grabbed a stick and poked around the fire; the little shit had a thing for a fire.

You could feel Sam’s eyes burning into the side of your head as you racked Tara’s words around in your head. Sure, Sam was old enough to make decisions for herself, but the thought of her actually being with someone other than you makes you sick to your stomach. And just like the masochist you were, you had to ask Sam about it. “So why don’t you talk to him?”

Sam huffed, clearly annoyed by the fact that you, of all people, would ask her about her love life. “Why? So you can go and tell Gale about it? No thanks,” she dryly stated with a roll of her eyes.

“Hey, you little shit, that wasn’t Y/N! I’ve told you that before,” Tara defended as she comfortably put a hand on your knee, “And even if she did, I support her wrongs.”

“Tara, you’re not helping,” you whispered with a small, awkward laugh. A small groan left Sam’s lips as she stood up from the fire, “I’m going inside,” she said while walking toward the door to the house.

Once she was inside, Tara broke the tension, “I’m sorry she’s like that, Y/N. She doesn’t want to accept the truth.” The comfort from Tara was nice, it actually made you feel like someone at least cared for you that had the last name of Carpenter.

“It’s okay, no need to apologize on her behalf. I get it,” you said with a weak smile as you hid your pain. It was a stupid feeling: pain. You owed San nothing, but you still couldn’t help but feel a sense of guilt run through your body every time you saw the woman.

“So, Y/N, what’s it like fumbling an amazing woman like me?” Mindy playfully asked, her own way of trying to lighten the tense mood that had settled around the fire, “I need Anika to know how special I am.”

It was a shitty attempt, but it still put a smile on your face. “Mindy once got in a revolving door,” you said with a laugh, “she was in it for a solid 5 minutes.”

“Blasphemy!” Mindy shouted as she quickly stood up from her hay bale, “It was a one minute and you didn’t help at all! And you let Tara record it!”

“Oh my god, I need to find that video,” Tara butted in as she pulled out her phone, quickly trying to find the video while Mindy tried to steal the phone from her.

It was small moments like these that you enjoyed with the group; moments were everyone was happy and they could forgot about their fucked up pasts. Those moments were rare, but you cherished them like they were your life support.

As time dragged on and the night got colder, everyone outside called it quits. Well, at least on being outside.

“Hurry up, Gizmo, I’m freezing,” Mindy joked as she walked behind Tara, almost stepping on the girl’s shoes. “Don’t call me a gremlin,” the shorter girl shot back with a glare as she approached the back door to your house, “apologize and I’ll open it.”

“Fuck you,” Mindy retorted as she made a move for the door, bud Tara was quick to react as she kicked one of Mindy’s shins.

“Apologize.”

“No.”

Several beats of silence pass by as you and Anika watch a stare down between the two friends before Mindy inevitably sighs with defeat. “Alright fine, I’m sorry I called Gizmo. You aren’t a gremlin, more like a fun sized Lord Farquaad,” Mindy said, trailing off toward the end of her sentence.

“Hey, hey! Stop it!” You exclaimed, quickly catching Tara’s fist that was inches away from connecting Mindy’s face.

You were too busy trying to keep Tara from ripping into Mindy that you didn’t notice Sam opening up the door until she spoke. “What the hell are you doing to my sister?”

The position you found yourself in was an uncomfortable one, to say the least. You were holding Tara from behind, with your arms holding the smaller girl’s ones back.

“Mind your business, Sam,” Tara stated in a strained voice, trying to get hold out of your tight hold, “this is between me and Mindy.”

Her sister’s words didn’t seem to phase Sam at all, as the older sister couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of you. The way you had your hands on her sister made her blood boil. Deep down she knew that you would never hurt Tara, but that didn’t stop the over growing feeling of protectiveness come through.

In a single motion, Sam stopped out of the house and gripped your bicep with her right left hand. When you looked down, you could see her veins in her hands as her grip tightened, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say that was trying to flex as well.

“Let her go,” Sam demanded, leaving zero room for arguing. So, you shrugged your shoulders and let go, not caring to warn Sam about the can of whoopass her sister was about to unleash on Mindy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She was like a tiger! A short-legged one with asthma, but a Tiger!” Mindy cried into her phone, telling her brother about her vicious fight with Tara. Honestly, it was impressive how quickly Tara moved to latch onto Mindy, but even more impressive how surprisingly strong she was. The wounds that Mindy sustained weren’t anything terrible; a small cut on her cheek and a busted lip, but nothing was hurt more than her ego.

“You asked for it,” Anika commented, but then gave Mindy a quick kiss for the look she received. You chuckled at the small encounter as you excused yourself from Tara, who had a smug smile on her lips. She knew where you were going, and she didn’t think about warning you that Sam was also there; it was like her own way of playing matchmaker—a shitty matchmaker, but still one nonetheless.

The kitchen was a weird place you found solace in; nothing was special about it. It was where you went when you needed a step back from reality. Another odd thing: Sam also found the same comfort in the kitchen. Maybe it was the quiet nature, or the dim lights that brought comfort, or even perhaps the shitty decorations that littered the walls, but whatever it was, there was a soft comfort.

“Hey,” you said upon entering the kitchen. Sam was leaning against the countertop, arms crossed over her chest as her eyes refused to leave the floor. To anyone else, it would have gone unnoticed, but not with you, not with it involved Sam. You noticed her slightly heavy breathing and the barely visible sweat that glistened her forehead. And when her eyes finally left the floor, you could see nothing but black in her irises.

It took not even a second before Sam finally snapped out of whatever trance she had found herself in and returned to her usual self. Well, about as normal as Sam could be. She quickly wiped the sweat off her forehead and recrossed her arms as she looked at you. “What are you doing in here?” She all but demanded; her eyes seemed never to leave you as she stared you down.

The question was a weird one, as this was your home, but you just chalked it up to Sam's bizarre way of asking, ‘Why are you here with me and not my sister?’

“Hanging out in the kitchen; it’s where I belong,” you said with a smile, and to your surprise, you managed to pull a chuckle from the Latina. It was a quick laugh, but it sounded like angels were singing in your ears, and you would go through hell and back with nothing but the Hamilton soundtrack to keep you busy if it meant hearing that laugh again.

Sam smiled faintly as she spoke, “Yeah, well, I’ve tried your spaghetti before; you don’t belong anywhere near the kitchen. I’m sure they would have sent you into the army and made your husband stay at home.”

“Okay, wow, that one hurt!” You exclaimed with a joking smile as you placed a hand over your heart, pretending to be hurt, “That one dug deep, but bold of you to assume I would have a husband.”

“Bold of you to assume I would care.”

A tense silence filled the air after Sam spoke, but it was a silence you were starting to grow comfortable with. And for the first time in her life, Sam felt terrible for what she said to you. She wanted to apologize for saying she didn’t care about you, but she couldn’t muster up the pride to admit she was wrong. So all she did was look at you sadly and hope you would pick up on it.

“You know, I seriously thought we were having a moment,” you halfheartedly joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

It took several seconds before Sam replied, just as you walked out of the kitchen, “Yeah…I don’t really think the whole ‘husband’ thing would work out for me either.”

This comment certainly caught you off guard. “Why is that?” You asked while returning back to the kitchen, clearly interested in what Sam had to say, “Not much of a marriage person?”

Sam shuffled awkwardly on her feet as she uncrossed her arms, gripped the counter behind her, and looked down at the floor. “No, it’s not the marriage part. It’s the man part,” she admitted while slowly looking up at you with the most vulnerable eyes ever. The look she gave you said a thousand words: this was something not even Tara knew about.

Sure, the Carpenter sisters shared everything, but Sam wouldn’t share this. Her attraction toward women was something that further ruined the bond between her and her mother, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to let it ruin her relationship with her only family left. Of course, Sam knew about Tara’s relationship with women, especially once she found out about Tara and Amber, but she still couldn’t help the feeling of being afraid to disappoint Tara.

But before you could comfort Sam, before you could tell her that her fears meant nothing and that Tara would still love her, you got interrupted. “Sam! Y/N! Get your asses in here!” Mindy yelled from the living room, “We want to watch this movie with you two!”

Sam quickly got rid of the vulnerability on her face when she heard Mindy’s voice, not wanting to show that kind of weakness to anyone.

“Sam-” you started, but the woman quickly brushed past you, subtly wiping a tear from her eye as she walked into the living room.

Following behind her, you entered the living room and sat at the only open spot on the couch, which was conveniently next to Tara, who had Sam on her other side. “Thank god, I was starting to think you two were fucking in there or something,” Mindy remarked as she grabbed the tv remote, “Let me introduce you guys to the scariest movie on the planet: The Cat in The Hat Live Action!”

The rest of the night was filled with laughter and playful teasing as the hours slowly seeped into the early morning hours. The small banter between Mindy and Tara kept things interesting; Mindy compared Tara to the Things, as Anika tried to keep it peaceful. The stolen glances you shared with Sam had their conversations, and when you went to bed that night, you would consider this night a step in the right direction at changing your relationship with Sam.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One thing Sam hated about working a 9-5 was how inconsiderate most of society can be. It was already a busy day at the cafe, more alive than average, and her nerves were already shot for the next and a half. From people complaining about not getting orders in a short time to people demanding to have their drinks remade, it was a rough day for the older Carpenter.

She had half a mind to tell the next person who complained about their coffee not being proper that it was just coffee; if they wanted it right, they should buy a Keurig and make it themselves. Although that would be funny, it would also end in Sam getting fired, so she just bit her tongue and continued working.

As if her day couldn’t get any worse, you always had a habit of catching Sam at her worst. “Are you stalking me now?” Sam questioned once she saw you approach the front counter.

“Oh yeah. You know me, I can’t get enough of the Carpenter girls,” you said with a smirk as you quickly checked San up and down, frowning when you saw a faded coffee stain on her apron. It wasn’t hard to notice the looks Sam got in public, so you could imagine how customers would treat her. If the universe would allow it, you would put Sam in your back pocket and protect her from the rest of the world; God knows that the woman deserves some peace in her life for once.

“For whatever reason, Tara can’t seem to leave you alone,” Sam mumbled as she pulled out a pen and notepad, “What can I get you?”

“Just a small cappuccino, please,” you replied as Sam wrote down your order and took your payment. She liked writing things down, which helped her remember the important stuff. And maybe, in the distant future, she might want to buy you a coffee sometime.

Once you ordered, you went and sat down at a booth by yourself and took in the place: it had indeed calmed down from earlier; only a couple of people remained from the rush hour. You enjoyed the calmness, as it gave you time to observe people. Not in a weird or stalkerish way, but in a way to think about other people’s lives, how these weren’t just random people who had no life. These were people who had dreams, who had family and friends; you enjoyed watching the way the world works around you.

You watched as a man wore stress lines on his forehead as he eagerly typed away on his laptop, mouthing every word he typed. How sweat lined his hairline, you could have had a deadline for work that he pushed off until the last minute. You then turned your attention to the girl at the opposite end of the cafe, a book in hand as she wore black headphones over her ears, entranced into the world of fantasy without a care in the world while sporting a soft smile. The world amazed you in ways like that: two completely different people who somehow ended up at the same place at the same time, with different things going on in their lives. Maybe it was fate that brought these two strangers together, and you smiled when you saw them bump into each other before leaving, both wearing a smile and talking about the book she was reading. Maybe that’s what you wished had happened between you and Sam: an accidental meeting somewhere where a good relationship was possible and not this borderline hostile friendship.

A couple of minutes passed before Sam brought over your drink to you. “How late are you working?” You asked once she handed you your drink. The questioning look she gave you was a funny one, but not that it mattered.

“I’m here till 5. Why?”

“Damn, you got a 9 to 5? It looks like I’ll take the night shift,” you joked, but Sam didn’t laugh, only giving you a questioning glare, “Lucy Dacus? No? You’re boring.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not obsessed with three grown women who refer to themselves as ‘boys,’” Sam remarked. She had no desire to learn anything about Boygenius, especially after listening to her sister talk for an hour about all of the unholy things she would let Julien Baker do to her. If Sam was being honest, half of the stuff Tara said deserved at least a ten-year prison sentence.

“But you know who they are,” you said teasingly as you stood up from the booth, “Don’t worry, Sam. You’ll soon grow to appreciate Boygenius. I’ll have Tara fix that.”

“Mhmmm, I’m sure about that,” she mumbled as she returned to the counter, bidding you farewell with a slight nod, not caring to return your toothy smile or wave.

If Sam drove home after her long shift listening to Julien Baker, that was no one’s business but hers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Sam got home, she only wanted a nice, hot shower and go to bed. She didn’t even bother to eat dinner, as she didn’t have the energy or care to do so. As she opened the door to her apartment, which seemed heavier than usual, she kicked off her shoes with a sigh as she made her way into her bedroom, utterly oblivious to the voices in the living room.

“What’s wrong with her?” You asked Tara once the taller Carpenter had shut her bedroom door. “I don’t know; probably work stuff. Do you have five of spade?” Tara asked, more intrigued with the game she was playing than her sister.

“No, go fish,” you replied while looking at Sam’s door; something was telling you to go check on the girl to make sure she was alright, but you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries.

“Ohhhh my god, you hate me,” the younger Carpenter dramatically stated, dragging out the words as she threw herself backward onto the couch.

“If I hated you, I wouldn’t have done your entire English paper, would I?” You questioned while shooting a glance at the pouting girl, but when your comment earned you a middle finger, you placed your cards down as you stood up from the couch, “I'll be right back.”

Tara scoffed at you as she leaned up on her elbows. “Have you learned nothing from the Meeks family? I hope you don’t come back,” she mouthed off as she started looking at your cards, “you fucking asshole! You did have that card!”

“I never said I didn’t,” you replied with a smirk as you walked toward Sam’s door, ducking out of the way of a flying shoe courtesy of your best friend Tara.

A soft rasping of knuckles pulled Sam away from her almost meltdown. She had felt a constant pressure on her all day, and it started to lift briefly, but it suddenly came back by the end of her shift. Sam was used to the constant pressure and needed to be the best version of herself now that she was providing for her sister, but it all started to get too much for her.

“Sam, you okay?” Great, not only did she have this overwhelming feeling about to take over, but she was also about to have a high speed come apart in front of the person she didn’t want to see her weak.

“I’m good, Y/N. Go back to Tara,” she called out as she backed herself against a wall, slowly sliding down to sit on the floor.

“Are you sure? You didn’t seem too happy when you got home,” you replied, hoping to get somewhere with the older woman. “I’m fine. Please, leave me alone,” Sam pleaded, but the way her voice broke off toward the end of her sentence told you that she didn’t need to be left alone right now.

Several seconds passed, the sound of Sam’s bedroom clock ticking away, slowly counting down the seconds until Sam couldn’t bear the deafening silence. She felt like she had somehow found herself in her version of ‘The Tell-Tale Heart,’ at any moment, she would succumb to the voices that were guilting her. For what guilt, she did not know; guilty of her origins, guilty of neglecting her baby sister for five years, guilty of torturing her body for years on end, putting any substance into her body to help calm her mind? Sam didn’t know what was causing this constant guilt that followed her anxiety and pressure, but she would do anything to make it stop. And she did make it stop.

“Fuck it,” she mumbled as she pushed herself up from the floor and walked to her door, grabbing the handle but making no motion to open the door. If she opened that door, it would be an invitation to open herself up to you; she only opened up to one person in her life, and look what he did to her. This constant fear of having to look over her shoulder, as if the shadows were going to transform into physical beings and take her life, or even worse, take Tara’s life. Sam wears scars, both physical and mental, from him, and she would lay down her own life if it meant protecting her sister. But when she looked at you, with your innocent eyes that beamed when you looked at her, Sam knew you could never hurt anyone. But Sam was never one to make accurate judgments.

The creaking sound of Sam opening up her door pulled you from your thoughts. Thoughts that weren’t any special; who you would have in your ideal Hunger Games lineup. You knew for a fact that the president would be Cersei Lannister and the game maker would be Jigsaw. However, you still have yet to determine who the twenty-four tributes would be: the only tributes you had so far were Santa Barbara Ellie, Pioneer Kim Kardashian, Regina George, and Chanel Oberlin. It's not the best list, but it's a solid start.

“Hey,” you said quietly, eyes darting over Sam’s bloodshot eyes with dark bags underneath. Even at her worst, she always somehow managed to captivate you like she was a siren, slowly bringing you into your inevitable demise. Still, you could never seem to pull yourself away from the beauty that was Sam Carpenter.

Sam scoffed at your weak greeting while ignoring the feeling of her stomach turning at how you looked at her. She knew she looked like a hot mess, and she believed it was your way of silently making fun of her. But the way your lips were slightly parted and your eyes seemed a bit too dilated, refused to leave her own, told her that you weren’t judging or making fun of her. No, you were admiring her, which sent a slight shock of guilt throughout her; Guilt, that was Samantha Carpenter’s best friend.

Sam’s eyes drifted down to the floor, as she couldn’t handle the feeling of your eyes burning into her skull. “Who’s shoe is that?” She asked, motioning down to the floor, where Tara’s shoe landed.

“Well, if you look closely, you can see that it’s a size three for babies,” you remarked teasingly.

“Kill yourself!” Tara shouted from the living room, not caring enough to storm out into the hallway and show you how vicious she can be.

“Charming, isn’t she?” You stated as Sam looked back up and made eye contact with you. Her face told you that she didn’t want to talk, but her eyes were silently begging you to stay. It was a dilemma that you stumbled upon, but you were always someone who loved conflicts. “Is everything alright?”

Sam sighed as she leaned against her doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is that what you wanted? To ask me if things are okay?”

“Um, yes and no?” You trailed off, not wanting to make things more awkward than they were, “Hold on.” You quickly moved from Sam’s door into the living room, and Sam ignored the hushed threats being spoken; her sister was an angel, after all.

“Here ya go,” you said with an embarrassingly large smile once you returned to Sam’s door. In your hand, you held a small brown lunch bag. Sam had to fight off any instincts to punch you in the throat.

“I don’t like gifts,” she said instead of resorting to violence. Truth be told, Sam loved gifts; she just hated receiving them, as it made her feel like she was in someone’s debt.

“Well, good thing it’s not a gift,” you replied, smiling, pushing the gift bag toward Sam, who gave you a questioning look before accepting it. The bag itself was featherlight, almost as if nothing was in there. Sam gave you one last questioning look before opening the bag and looking inside.

In the bag were several containers, all hosting different kinds of cookies and brownies, and to Sam’s surprise, they were all her favorites. There was something much more prominent at the bottom, but she couldn’t tell what it was as the rest of the cookies sat atop. Sam gave you a small smile as she walked over to her chest of drawers and began taking out the items, ignoring how you were now peering into her room as you leaned against the door frame.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Sam genuinely said in a weak, almost fragile voice as she slowly got to the bottom of the bag, “I appreciate this. it has been-” The rest of her words died on the tip of her tongue as she stared into the bag, as silence filled the room. Those silent seconds dragged on into a quiet minute, neither of you saying anything. You knew it might have been too bold or maybe even wrong, but you wanted to let Sam know that you were proud of her.

“Goodnight, Sam,” you quietly whispered, gaining Sam’s attention. Your heart broke once her eyes met yours, tears glossing in her doe eyes as her lip quivered. She gave you a slight nod of recognition before turning her attention back to the bag as a single tear ran down her cheek, grateful that you had already left by the time it broke from her eye.

With a dry chuckle, Sam reached into the bag, pulled out a 10-inch cookie, and sat it down on her chest of drawers. She stared at it for several moments before her lips pulled into a smile as a new feeling shot throughout her heart, one that she hadn’t felt in a long time: hope. But that feeling of hope wasn’t for her; no, it was a hopeful feeling about you.

Sam smiled down at the cookie one last time before she went into the kitchen and grabbed a knife and plate, thankful that Tara had gone off to her room so she could enjoy her treat by herself.

Once she returned to her room, she pulled the lid off the container and cut a small piece out of the cookie. Making sure not to ruin the words that said, “Happy three years of sobriety.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The minutes seemed endless as you stared up at the ceiling of your bedroom. You didn’t know why you were waiting, but you just were. Your mind was telling you to get up, to do something productive, but your heart and soul were seemingly forcing you to stay put, like something important was going to happen anytime, and if you were just a fraction of a second too late, you would miss it.

It was a stupid feeling, but you couldn’t compel yourself to move; it was as if your mind was in a trance, stuck in some faraway land, and you could do nothing to pull yourself back into your body. You were on the verge of losing your mind when you knew exactly what you were waiting for, and when you finally accepted why, it happened.

Your phone dinged on your nightstand, and you immediately smiled; you didn’t have to look at it to know who it was. In a swift motion, you quickly got up from your bed and grabbed your phone as you read the text message. It wasn’t a long one, or even a special one, to be honest, but the smile on your face was almost comical, and your heart soared. The text read, “I don’t know how you found out about the date, nor do I even want to. But thank you, Y/N, I needed that today.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I will never understand the hype for ‘Hamilton,’” Mindy stated with a look of distaste as she flopped down onto the Carpenter’s couch. It wasn’t movie night but more of a girl’s night. Since it was Tara’s idea to have a girl’s night, she got to pick the movie. But it wasn’t for her, no, it was for Sam.

The older Carpenter sister would never admit to liking such things, but she did have a soft spot for musicals. She didn’t know where this love for them came from, but ever since she was young, she had loved the idea of singing.

Before Sam had discovered her mother’s journal, which had ultimately led to the destruction of her family, she used to sing in her church’s choir. It was the first thing her mother didn’t force her into doing, and she loved singing in front of people; it made her feel like nothing in the world could touch her.

Singing was the only thing Christina Carpenter told Sam she was good at and the last thing she ever took away from Sam.

Once Mr. Carpenter left, Christina stopped taking the kids to church, which caused Sam to be pulled from the choir. It still didn’t stop Sam; she saved up enough money to buy a guitar and write songs while practicing the guitar in her room. When Sam started to dabble around in drugs and alcohol, she slowly started to lose herself. She lost who she really was, but she never lost her voice.

Only when it was the day of Sam’s 18th birthday did Christina finally ruin the last good thing Sam liked about herself, “Your real father had the voice of an angel.”

Sam left that night, and she hadn’t sung since.

But now, five years later, Sam still loves everything to do with music. She was glad that Tara had taken one for the team and turned on Hamilton because Mindy would never let Sam hear the end of it.

“‘Hamilton’ is okay, but not Lin-Manuel Miranda’s best work,” you stated as you stood in the kitchen, making a bag of popcorn for yourself. Sam was also in the kitchen with you, which has become a common meeting place. She was making herself a sandwich as she quietly listened to the banter between you and Mindy.

“I don’t believe you. What is his best work?” Tara challenged as she shifted on the couch, throwing an arm over the side as she looked into the kitchen to glare at you.

“His best work is easily ‘In the Heights,’” you declared with too much emphasis on the movie title.

“No!” Tara yelled, “You only say that because the lead actress looks like Sam, and you said she was hot!”

“I did not say that!” You lied as heat rushed up your neck and flooded your cheeks. It wasn’t embarrassing because Tara called you out; you were embarrassed because you were in the kitchen with Sam. It didn’t help that you could hear Sam snickering as you were defending yourself.

“Yes, you did. Do you want me to pull up the screenshots from the long chain of text messages you sent me?” Tara asked, even though it wasn’t a question, as she pulled out her phone. “Example one: ‘Oh my god, Tara. I’m watching this movie, and this woman looks just like Sam.’”

You quickly threw your bag of popcorn down onto the counter as you sprinted into the living room. You simply couldn’t live with the idea that Sam knows just how you yearned for her.

“Example two: ‘This is Sam, just in another universe.’ Example three, in all caps: ‘Oh my god, Tara! I am not joking when I say that-’” You quickly snatched the phone from the younger Carpenter sister before she could say possibly the horniest text message you had ever sent.

“You are no fun,” Tara whined as you deleted the messages from her phone. “You’re evil,” you retorted before handing Tara back her phone, who was quick to grab it. You walked back into the kitchen to grab your popcorn and became embarrassed when you saw Sam.

She was wearing one of her light-colored long-sleeve muscle shirts again with a pair of gray sweatpants. In simple words, she looked amazing. Usually, when Sam wore some variation of the muscle shirt combo, you could act ‘normal.’ But now that Tara had practically outed your attraction to Sam, you just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

Thankfully, she just gave you a small smile as she watched you grab your bag before heading back into the living room, no doubt about to be the subject of constant teasing from Tara and Mindy.

“So,” Mindy started once you sat down on the couch next to her, “Are we going to talk about those thirst messages-” “Start the damn movie, Tara.”

By the time the movie started, Sam had entered the living room, but not without earning a cat call whistle from Mindy, no doubt a jab at you. She opted to sit by herself in the loveseat as she kicked her feet up on the opposite end. She sent you a smile when no one was looking, and you could have sworn both hearts started beating as one.

Throughout the movie, you had to deal with Tara rapping and Mindy ranting about the musical, but overall, it was a fun night. Sam was slowly starting to warm up to the idea of having you around more often, and you slowly felt yourself catching feelings for her.

Of course, there was this natural attraction to Sam, she was simply beautiful, but her protective personality mixed with her stand-off, almost bitchy, personality was merely perfect. But with her bitchiness, she was the sweetest, most caring person you had ever met. Her laugh was so angelic, and the way her eyes crinkled when she did laugh was so heartwarming. Sam Carpenter was perfect in your eyes.

To say that this attraction was one-sided wouldn’t be fair. After you had dropped off her cookie, Sam started to act differently around you. She would smile more, and only at you most of the time. It seemed like she had begun to reserve that confident smile just for you. She started to see you more as an individual with feelings and plans for the future rather than a simple 2-dimensional person who was only in her life to make it hell. Sam had actually started to care for you even though she still tried her best to despise you.

So when the movie finished and Mindy went home, you grabbed your coat to follow suit soon.

“Thank you for coming, Y/N,” Tara said as she hugged you while you were standing next to the front door, “You know I love you, right?”

You quickly reciprocated the hug, pulling the girl into a warm, soft embrace. “I know you do, and I also love you too. Even though you can be a shit sometimes.”

“Yeah, but you love it!” She happily exclaimed while pulling back from the hug to pinch your left cheek, “Drive safe, okay?”

“I will, Ms. Carpenter, I will,” you replied, smiling as you opened the door, and Tara disappeared into her room. You had gone halfway out of the door when someone spoke.

“You’re just going to leave without saying goodbye?” You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was; you could pick that soft voice from anywhere. Granted, she was the only one left in the apartment, but you still have yourself the credit for knowing it was her.

“I didn’t think you would want to say goodbye,” you replied as you entered the apartment and shut the door, “I didn’t want to overstep any boundaries with you.”

That was the thing about you: you were so damn respectful. Sometimes, Sam wanted to slam you against a wall to beat the hell out of you. Other times, she wanted to slam you against a wall with her tongue down your throat. Sam had a weird way of showing her attraction to you.

“You didn’t think you were overstepping boundaries when you brought me that cookie?” Sam questioned with a faint smile on her lips. She would never tell you this, but she loved teasing you, as it was the only way she could see the more embarrassed side of you.

“I figured I was, but I thought the gesture of it would be nice enough,” you replied in a weak voice as you rubbed the back of your neck with your hand and shuffled from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry if it was rude of me to do that without asking first. I just wanted it to be a surprise.”

The older woman laughed a bit as she walked closer to you and opened the door, “At least let me walk you out,” she offered. You gave her a smile with a nod as you followed her out of the apartment, making sure to close the door behind you.

“So, what do you think of musicals?” You asked as you walked down the stairs with her. “Why? You wanna ask me out on a date?” Sam joked with the slightest hint of flirtation in her voice, and you almost felt your knees give out.

“Ha, you wish,” you replied as you matched her tone of voice, which earned you a playful smirk to get sent your way. If you figured your one way to win Sam’s trust was to flirt with her occasionally, you would go out giving it your all.

You two reached the floor level of the apartment building, and you held the door open for Sam as you walked outside. “But seriously, though, what do you think of them?” You asked as Sam followed you to your car.

“I enjoy them well enough. Why?” Sam responded as she eyed you suspiciously.

“Because the ‘Aladdin’ musical is going to be here soon,” you stated before you continued with your proposal, “And I was wondering if you would want to go with me?”

The offer was a genuine one from you; you wanted to spend more quality time with Sam, but you also have been dying to see the musical. It was a win-win situation all around.

“Y/n,” Sam started with a beaming smile that matched her chocolate eyes, “I would love to go with you. When and how much do I owe you?”

You quickly picked up Sam’s hand and held it between yours, “You don’t owe me anything. Consider it payment for letting me terrorize your sister.”

Sam glanced down at your hands before looking back up at you. Her beautiful eyes held so much darkness in them that they couldn’t help but draw you in. When you looked into Sam’s eyes at just the right moments, you didn’t see the gorgeous woman; no, you would see her father. And it made you yearn for her even more. Sam had never experienced actual love, but when you looked into her eyes, it made you wonder why thieves bothered to steal pieces of art; you knew you were in love with her.

In a swift moment, before Sam had time to think about her actions, she leaned in. She had meant to kiss your cheek, but in a sudden and indescribable moment, Sam slightly turned her head to kiss the corner of your lips, millimeters away from your lips.

“Thank you, Y/N,” she whispered with a small smile as she said goodbye. You were too busy hoping she left a lipstick mark to respond.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The seconds seemed to drag on endlessly as you tapped your foot against the floor. Your stomach was wrapped up in knots you could barely remember to breathe; the only thing you could think about was the constant nervousness that was rattling you to your core. You were early, half an hour earlier, to be exact, but you would rather be early and have to wait rather than be late.

You were sitting on the bottom stairs of Sam’s apartment building, impatiently waiting until it would be an acceptable time to go to the Carpenter’s apartment. It was the night of the musical, and you were wearing a simple yet elegant suit as you pulled at the collar of your shirt as if it was slightly choking you.

‘Nervous’ wasn’t the correct word to describe your feelings. Petrified would be a better word for it. You were terrified that you would somehow mess up this night, had somehow overdone it, or that Sam wouldn’t have fun. Self-doubt was your greatest friend, after all.

You picked up the bouquet of roses from beside you and stared at them. “Maybe it's too much,” you thought out loud as you turned them over in your hand. Neither of you had explicitly said it was a date, but the way Sam kissed your cheek was something you would never forget. Even though you wanted to consider an actual kiss, since it was so close to your lips, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Samatha Carpenter is a strong woman who takes what she wants in this world, and if she wanted to kiss your lips, she would have done so.

Your phone vibrated with a text message, pulling you away from self-doubt. It was from Sam, telling you that you can come up whenever you would like.

Like an idiot, you wanted to run up the stairs as fast as you could to get to Sam quicker, but you forced yourself to play it cool, to not look like a loser. So, ever so slowly, you began your journey up the six flights of stairs.

Within a few minutes, you were standing outside Sam’s door. You had arrived quicker than you wanted, but the excitement was too much. Then, your mind slowly started to get the better of you as you stared down at your fancy dress-up shoes. You hoped you weren’t overdressed, but if you were, you could easily change into the clothes you kept in Tara’s room. But then what if you were underdressed? How would you fix that? You wouldn’t have enough time to go home and change into something more congenial, and you certainly weren’t going to make Sam change. What if Sam wasn’t even dressing up at all? What if this was just a friendly outing, and you completely fucked it up? What if-

Before you dive further into the scenarios that could play out, the door opened, and all of the air within your lungs left.

“What the fuck are wearing?” You asked with slight irritation in your voice, bewilderment written all over your face.

“What? You don’t like it?” Tara questioned as she spun around in a circle for you. The younger Carpenter sister was wearing a yellow shirt with a pineapple that had on a thong; underneath the fruit was the word ‘slut.’ She was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, and when she turned around for you, you saw ‘baby girl’ embroidered on the butt.

“Clearly It’s referring to the pineapple, not you,” you said with a smile before it fully registered what was on the girl’s pants, “Hey, turn back around!” Tara did as you demanded, “If I would have known you were wanting to check on my ass, I would have done some squats first,” she teased with a smirk.

When you reread the word ‘baby girl,’ you scoffed at the more petite girl, “Why are you wearing those?”

“Because it's funny! It’s called having a sense of humor!” Tara shot back before an evil smirk appeared, “Why? Do you want me to take them off? I don’t think Sam would like that too much; she gets territorial over you.”

The comment certainly surprised you, and Tara quickly noticed her mistake. “I didn’t mean that,” she tried to explain, but it was too late.

“What do you mean she ‘gets territorial’ over me?” You questioned, completely forgetting about why you were talking to Tara in the first place as the thought of Sam ran rapidly throughout your mind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tara replied with a nervous laugh as her eyes darted around the room. She wasn’t supposed to tell anyone this, and Sam made her swear not to tell anyone. Now, she has broken that promise to the one person who wasn’t supposed to know.

Now, it was a simple mistake that led to Tara finding out about the flirtatious relationship between you and Sam. It was the night Sam kissed your cheek; Tara saw that bright smile on Sam’s lips and how her eyes held so much admiration. She had never seen that look on her sister’s face, and she knew something had happened.

So, like any good sister, she interrogated and terrorized Sam until she finally caved.

Sam only told Tara the bare minimum; you two were going out later in the week to watch a musical together and that you had gotten her a gift a week ago. She didn’t plan on telling Tara that the gift in question was her sobriety treat basket, but when Tara went to grab a water bottle from Sam’s mini fridge, she saw a small box of brownies with your handwriting on a sticky note. “I believe in you :)” was written on it, so Tara asked Sam about it.

Sam told her sister about the gift, but Tara didn’t seem bothered by it. “Oh, yeah. I figured something fruity was going on between you and the biggest homo of the century. But why the fuck did you keep this from me?!” Tara shouted, moving the box around in the air.

“I didn’t think you would want any,” Sam defended with a weak sigh, but she knew it wouldn’t help.

“I would give a strip show to the old people’s home just for a brownie from this place, and you didn’t think I would want any?” She questioned in a slightly more demanding voice before huffing and leaving Sam’s room with the box in hand.

But now, in the current moment, Tara wished she hadn’t opened Sam’s fridge. That annoyingly hopeful smile on your lips drove her insane, not to mention that lovesick look in your eye.

“Stop it, you’re freaking me out,” Tara stated as she made a disgusted face at you. “No. Tell me why you said that,” you pressed on, hoping to get an answer from the younger sister.

“Y/N, what are you hounding her about?” A soft, angelic voice questioned, and your attention immediately shot to Sam. She was wearing a black dress that clutched her curves and somehow made her look even more beautiful if that was even possible. The dress had a plunging neckline, and you had to force your eyes away from her cleavage, earning you a smile of approval from Sam, but an elbow followed by a look of distaste from Tara.

“You look amazing,” you stated breathlessly as your eyes wandered down Sam’s body, admiring the leg slit that showed off her left leg. You prayed for nights when that leg would be wrapped around your head.

“Thank you. You look not so bad either,” Sam replied with a soft smile as she picked up her black clutch bag and walked toward you.

“Have fun on your date,” Tara sneered as she entered her room. Truth be told, she couldn’t have been happier for her sister, but she would rather die than let you know that.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled under your breath as your eyes followed Tara before they shot back to the goddess before you. “Are you ready?” You asked, and she gave a curt nod before walking to the door. When you got to the car, you opened the passenger door for Sam, and she thanked you with a soft smile that made your heart explode and your knees weak.

The car ride to the theater was a peaceful one filled with pleasant conversation as you asked Sam about her day and her about yours. Sometimes, you would catch her looking over her shoulder with those soft doe eyes, and you had to fight off any urges to kiss her soft lips.

“Here we are,” you stated as you pulled into the back parking lot of the theater. As you parked the car, Sam observed people leaving their cars, dressed in all kinds of formal clothing, as they made their way into the theater. It took several seconds for it to click in her mind; this was a date.

Of course, she had assumed it might be considered one whenever you asked her, but as she watched the couples get out of their cars and link hands while they all wore fancy clothing, she knew that this was a date. Sam also knew that if she asked you if this was officially a date, she knew that you would deny it. So when you both stepped out of the car and started walking toward the entrance together, she reached out to interlace your fingers with hers.

It was a simple gesture, but the warmth of her hand in yours was enough to warm your cheeks and set your heart afire. You looked at her, only to find that Sam had already been staring at you.

“What?” You asked with a slight smile and a hint of nervousness in your voice. Sam bumped her shoulder into yours, “Nothing, it's just you look beautiful tonight.”

As if your face couldn’t get any redder, you laughed nervously as you looked down at the ground. The compliment threw you off, but you still accepted it nonetheless. “Thank you. And you look beautiful as well, Sam,” you stated.

“I know; you said that earlier,” she teased as she squeezed your hand, “Come on,” she continued as you two walked into the building.

You held open the door for her as you two entered, and then she patiently waited while you got the tickets.

“My lady,” you said as you returned to Sam, sticking out your elbow. “You are such a dork,” she replied, smiling as she locked her elbow around yours and followed your lead. Sam kept quiet as you led her past row after row, but her surprise never stopped until you led her to the third row up front. “Come on,” you stated as you led her down the row toward the middle, “these are our seats.”

“Y/N. How much did these cost?’ Sam questioned as she hesitatingly sat down next to you. “Don’t worry about the price. Money doesn’t mean anything when it comes to memories,” you eagerly replied, which was the truth. You didn’t care about the ticket price; the only thing you cared about was making Sam happy. Sam was someone who found happiness hard to come by, so you devoted your time to try and make her life better, even if that meant putting a massive dent in your credit score.

“I will stab you in the neck with a knife if you don’t tell me how much you spent on these seats,” Sam demanded with a soulless look in her eyes. It was meant to be threatening, maybe it was, but the only thing you could feel toward those dark eyes was a sense of attraction.

“Shhh, it's getting ready to start,” you silenced her, and soon enough, the lights began to dim as the crowd quickly stopped their chatter and turned their focus to the stage. Sam scoffed at you and turned her attention away from you. She wanted to be angry with you for not telling her how much you spent, but she knew that doing that would only ruin this night, which was something she knew you had been looking forward to for longer than you had been leading on.

So, when the curtains opened, she quickly glanced at you. She noticed how your eyes seemed entirely dedicated to the actors on stage and how your lips were curved up in the slightest of a smile. Sam thought you looked the most beautiful woman in the entire world.

Sam moved her hand from her lap to place it in your lap. She turned her hand so that her palm was facing up, and you didn’t have to ask what she wanted; you interlaced your fingers with hers and pulled them further into your lap.

If Sam noticed the way your hands started to sweat, she didn’t say anything. She was too busy focusing on how your thumb was featherlight stroking her hand to concentrate on anything. No one had ever touched her with such softness; she wanted to cry.

When the play finished, and you took her back to her apartment, she couldn’t help but give you a goodnight kiss as a thank you.

Maybe one day you could bask in the sweet taste of her lips on yours. But for now, you would live with her lipstick stain on your cheek, and you would wear it with honor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things had changed between the two of you. They were highly subtle at first: Sam’s eyes looking for you in a crowded room, her fingertips lingering on your hand whenever she handed you your coffee, and she even gave you another rare kiss on the cheek when you brought a very drunk Tara home late one night. Then things started to pick up; she would text you and ask you to pick something up for her and Tara, and when you would drop them off, Sam would ask you to stay for a while. She would always say Tara asked you to stay, but you knew better, even though you never questioned her.

It was one of those nights at the Carpenter’s apartment, movie night with just the three of you. Of course, typical movie nights with the core four plus Anika and you were on Fridays, but the sisters liked having you over just by yourself, as you weren’t nearly as much trouble as the twins. Tara wanted to refer to you as a plant; check in occasionally to make sure you weren’t dead and give you some stuff to keep you from dying.

“Tara, I am not watching ‘The Babadook,’” you stated as you sat on the couch alone. Tara was doing her dad's stance while flipping through movies to watch while Sam was in the kitchen making popcorn.

“Who?” She asked, not even caring to look back at you. “What-” you started to say before the shorter Carpenter cut you off, “Asked?”

“Why do I even hang out with you? All you do is insult me,” you joked as Tara moved to sit beside you. Well, on you. She threw an arm around your shoulder as she got comfortable on your lap. “Because you love me, obviously,” she remarked, still looking for the perfect movie.

Sam knew it was spiritual love, but she couldn’t help the feeling of jealousy grow throughout her chest. Especially over her sister! With a slight shake, Sam tried to fight off that feeling as she grabbed the popcorn bags, along with some bowls, and made her way into the living room.

“Just two bags?” Tara questioned once Sam entered the living room. “Yeah, I figured you and Y/n would share. Why; is there a problem?” The older sister questioned with a raised eyebrow as she set the bowls on the coffee table.

“No, it's fine. But I am getting an entire bag for myself,” Tara stated as she left your lap to grab a bag from Sam before moving to the opposite end of the couch. “Looks like you two will have to share,” she added with a sly smile.

You shared a look with Sam, who had slight irritation on her face. She handed you the bag as she spoke, “I’ll go make more.” When Sam moved to head into the kitchen, you quickly grabbed her wrist, stopping her from getting further.

“No, I’m alright with sharing. Only if you are, though,” you said quietly, ignoring the snickering coming from the end of the couch. Sam gave you a small smile as she nodded, sitting beside you on the sofa.

A small laugh left your lips as you looked at Sam’s outfit. “What?” She questioned.

“We are matching,” you responded with a smile as you looked up at Sam, who was already looking at you before she looked at your outfit. It was true; both of you were accidentally wearing practically the same outfit: blue plaid pajama pants with solid black shirts.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” Sam said with a smile as her eyes met yours. It was a small moment between the two of you, but it was quickly ruined when the sound of gagging pulled you two from it.

“Please, no homosexual activities in front of my popcorn. I don’t want it forced down my throat,” Tara complained as if she wasn’t someone who also suffered from those homosexual tendencies as well.

Sam cleared her throat as she grabbed one of the bowls and opened the bag of popcorn, pulling all of it into the bowl. “What movie did you pick?” You asked as you kicked your feet onto the coffee table, earning yourself a slight glare from Sam. She wouldn’t classify herself as a neat freak, but she hated it when people put their feet on furniture not used for sitting.

“‘It puts the lotion on its skin, or it gets the hose again,’” Tara quoted while throwing a piece of popcorn into the air and catching it with her mouth.

“I love that movie so much,” you commented while grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch, covering up your legs as you got comfortable.

“What movie?” Sam questioned as Tara hit play. “‘The Silence of the Lambs.’ It's one of my favorite movies,” you replied with a smile, leaning over to give Tara a quick fist bump for the choice.

“Is this the one with Jodie Foster?”

“Yep,” you and Tara replied simultaneously, earning a small groan from Sam, but she didn’t protest.

Once the movie began, Sam pulled at your blanket and placed some over her lap. You thought nothing of it until you felt Sam’s thigh brush against yours. You guessed it was an accident, but she didn’t move her leg; you relaxed your body and pushed your thigh against hers. You felt your chest flutter at the slight smile on Sam’s face at the contact.

As the movie progressed, the distance between you and Sam slowly became nonexistent. Your shoulders were now touching each other as you shared one blanket. In a moment of braveness, with a little bit of stupidity, you moved your hand underneath the blanket, which was where Sam had been keeping her own. Slowly, your hand inched toward Sam’s, hoping to reach the desired location without Sam pulling her hand away.

When your hand gently grazed Sam’s, the Latina made no effort to pull away, so you took it as a sign to continue. You linked your pinkie with hers and waited. I waited for her to finally realize what you were doing and pull away or glare at you and then ridicule you for such actions. So when Sam did pull her pinkie out of the lock with yours, you tried not to show your disappointment on your face.

But before you could get too comfortable with your sadness, Sam interlaced her fingers with yours, giving your hand a gentle yet firm squeeze. It was a small gesture. Some people might even call it friendly, but how your heartbeat quickened at the contact was embarrassing. You only hoped that your fast heart rate and nervousness would cause your palms to sweat. If they did sweat, though, Sam didn’t say anything about it, which you were grateful for.

As the end credits rolled, you let go of Sam’s hand, much to the older woman’s disappointment. You helped Sam clean up the mess made during the movie while you two let Tara sleep peacefully on the couch.

“I can clean those,” you said while walking into the kitchen. Sam was at the sink washing the bowl that you two had used.

“No, it’s okay. I got it,” she replied as she looked over her shoulder at you. “Thank you for staying tonight. I know Tara can be a little shit sometimes.”

You laughed at Sam’s words as you walked over to her, leaning against the counter. “It’s no problem; I love hanging out with you guys,” you genuinely replied, smiling, “Thank you for letting me stay over. I know we haven’t always had the best past.”

At the mention of the one-sided distaste that was formerly between you two, Sam stopped cleaning the bowl. A frown appeared on her lips as she looked down, refusing to meet your piercing gaze.

She took a deep breath before she spoke, “I’ve been an asshole to you, I know. I thought you were only getting close to us so you could tell Gale, but I know better than that now. I’ve been so…closed off to people that my judgment blinded me. I’m sorry, is what I’m trying to say.”

To say that Sam’s apology took you aback would be an understatement. You had just assumed that Sam would never own up to how she treated you in the past, opting just to pretend nothing ever happened. But you could tell that she had been working on this apology for a long time, so you appreciated it while you could.

“Thank you, Sam, for apologizing. I won't try to play it down, but it does mean a lot to me,” you said with a soft smile as you looked at the vulnerable woman before you, “but I have to ask. What changed?”

A sigh left Sam’s lips as she turned on the sink, washing out all the soap. She then began drying it off to think about her response. It wasn’t a difficult thing to explain. Well, the logical reasoning for her change of mind about you. But what she was trying to avoid was telling you that she also had a change of heart. Sam had started to enjoy your presence and hated being without you; she yearned for your soft, gentle touches that followed your caring words. She wanted to tell you that she still hates you but cares deeply for you.

Sam dried her hands off as she leaned against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. “I honestly don’t know entirely,” she began, “I know my opinion started to change after you brought me that cookie. But I feel like things changed before that, you know?”

“No, I don’t,” you said with a soft laugh, “I think I’ve just gotten so used to you being a dickhead to me that I kind of don’t associate anything else with the way you treat me.”

Sam had to pretend your words didn’t split her heart down the middle; she had to pretend your words didn’t pierce her heart like an ice-cold dagger. She knew she had no business to be hurt by your honesty, but still, she hated being reminded of how things were.

“I am sorry about that. You were there to protect Tara when I wasn’t, and for that, you will always have my gratitude,” Sam stated as she took several moments to decide on what to say next, “Tara told me that while I was gone for those five years, that you took care of her. Is that true?”

“Yeah,” was all you said in a quiet voice, almost as if you were preparing yourself for when Sam started to ask more questions but silently prayed she wouldn’t.

“How bad was it?” The older Carpenter asked with a voice filled with regret. You didn’t have to ask to clarify what she was asking about; you could tell by how her left fist started to clench as she brought her right arm to rub over the median cubital vein in her left arm. She wasn’t asking about how bad the attack was. No, she was asking about how bad Tara’s home life was when she was too high to do anything about it.

“I made sure she wasn’t left home alone,” you admitted. It was the half-truth, and you hoped Sam would accept it, but you knew better. “What was it like when Christina was there?” Sam pressed on.

“Things were okay; nothing was too bad,” you replied, trying your best to sugarcoat the truth.

An awkward, dry chuckle came from Sam as she shook her head, “Don’t lie to me; tell me the truth.”

You debated whether you should spare Sam the details or try to lie to her about how ugly it got sometimes. But fuck it, Sam had been making your life hell for almost a year now, so it's time she found out what you dealt with for five years.

“Christina’s a drunk; everyone knows that. But it got ugly once you left, especially once you left. It was like, maybe three weeks since you had left, and Christina had drank herself into a coma. The only problem was that it was in some European country, and no one back home knew about it. Christina was only supposed to be gone for the weekend and return home by late Sunday. Only, that weekend turned into a week, which then turned into a month.”

You gave Sam several moments to digest everything you told her, waiting for her to object. But when all she did was nod, you continued. “Tara didn’t tell anyone about her mom not coming back, and she only just told me why she didn’t tell anyone about it: she didn’t want people to view her as some monster because her entire family had left her.”

A soft sob came from Sam, and that was when you noticed she had been silently crying. When you moved to comfort her, Sam smacked your hand away from her body. “Keep talking,” she demanded. And you followed your orders.

“I didn’t notice anything different until I heard her stomach growl during lunch. She had been rationing her lunch for weeks, trying to make every piece last as long as possible. School food isn’t the best, but you would have thought Gordon Ramsey had made it how she cherished every bite. By the end of the school day, I finally got Tara to tell me what had happened, and I forced her to stay at my house. I told my mom that she would stay with us for a while, and she didn’t bat an eye; it was like she already knew what had happened but didn’t want to find out. That night, my mom had cooked lasagna; Tara had three full plates of it.”

“She hates lasagna,” Sam said in a choked-up voice. “I know,” you responded with a small laugh, “After that night, I made sure Tara always had something to eat and that she was never alone. But the one time I wasn’t there,” you had trailed off, not being able to finish your sentence without a tear forming in your eye.

Sam knew what you were talking about: the first Ghostface attack. Instead of pushing you away, she reached her arms and grabbed you, pulling you into a hug. It was the first hug you two had ever shared, but it was still the best. The grief you two shared could be felt by each other in that warm embrace, and you both found comfort in each other’s arms, which was something no one had ever made Sam feel.

You two hold on to one another as you both quietly cry over the past, hoping to be free of it with every tear that falls down your face. It was a bonding moment, but it was something you both needed; you two needed to be vulnerable together and for the other one to pick the other up.

After a few minutes, Sam pulled back from. She wiped the remaining tears off your face as she tucked your hair behind your ear and did something unexpected but not unwelcome. Sam leaned forward and placed a small, lingering kiss on your forehead as she quietly muttered, “Thank you.”

Once Sam pulled back, she gently squeezed your shoulders as she left the kitchen. You followed after her, only stopping to watch as Sam picked up a still-sleeping Tara from the couch and returned the gremlin to her bed. While Sam dealt with Tara, you grabbed the blanket you shared with Sam and some pillows to make your ‘bed’ for the night. The couch was comfortable, and you preferred it over sleeping with Tara. As small as she was, she always took up the entire bed.

After you deemed your sleeping quarters right, you went into the bathroom to brush your teeth. Props to being over so much; you had your toothbrush. It was a small gesture from Tara, but it gave you unlimited bragging rights. As you brushed your teeth, you could hear Sam talking to someone. With your curiosity getting the better of you, you peeked into the hallway to see the woman talking to someone on the phone.

“Thank you for inviting me. I had fun going out with you, but I don’t want this to go any further than friendship,” she quietly said into the phone as she paced back and forth. Deciding to give her some space, you stepped back into the bathroom and closed the door before spitting out the toothpaste and then rinsing your mouth with water. You wiped your mouth off with a towel before opening the door and leaving, finding Sam still talking on the phone with a mysterious love interest.

As she continued to talk to the person, you got situated on the couch, but before you could get too comfortable, Sam started to snap her fingers at you.

“What?” You hissed out, staring at the woman growing slightly more agitated as her phone call continued. You noted that Sam had already changed into her pajamas for the night: a loose band t-shirt with a pair of shorts.

“Have a good night; I'll talk to you later,” she abruptly said as she ended the phone call, “Are you seriously sleeping on the couch?”

“Um, yeah? Where else would I sleep? And besides, the couch is comfortable,” you replied as you gave Sam a questioning look. If she was insinuating that you sleep with her in her bed, well, that warranted some questions. But not that you would reject her offer.

“Are you alright with that? I know you usually sleep with Tara, but she might try to fight you if you go in there while she’s already asleep,” Sam said, trying to hide that she wanted to ask you to sleep with her. She found comfort in holding your hand earlier, and she surprisingly enjoyed the depressing conversation you two shared in the kitchen. Sam hated to admit it, but she found herself seeking you out for comfort. Not only the comfort but the fact that you warmed her heart as well; she had started to fall for you most unexpectedly.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. And besides, she usually ends up taking up the whole bed anyway. I’ll have more space out here than I will with her,” you responded, and Sam couldn’t help but nod at your words. “Yeah, she’s small, but don’t doubt how much space she can take up,” she said in agreement, “But would you like my bed?”

Now, that offer caught you off guard. You hadn’t even considered that Sam might provide you with her entire bed so she could sleep on the couch. As considerate as it might be, you were either sleeping on the sofa or in Sam’s bed with her, no in-betweens.

“No, I can’t take that from you and leave you on the couch. I’m honestly fine on it; don’t even worry about it,” you stated honestly, but Sam only shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t be a good host if I let you sleep out here.”

Neither of you wanted to be the one to offer it up, but you refused even to suggest the idea of sharing a bed. Nope, that was going to have to be something that Sam does, and you would happily wallow around in her swollen pride.

Just as you predicted, Sam swallowed her pride and offered the best solution if it did come with a backhanded offer. “Since you enjoy being difficult and making me feel like a horrible person, would you want to share my bed with me? Just this once?”

When she said the sentence, it didn’t sound as rude as the first one; it sounded a lot nicer, like she was hopeful that it wouldn’t be just this once, that this night would turn into another night, and maybe even the rest of the nights you could share.

“Only if that’s alright with you,” you said in a calm, normal tone as you tried to convince Sam that you weren’t mentally bouncing off the walls. “Sounds good to me. Come on,” she replied as she pulled you up from the couch and led you to her room. Sam dared not let go of your arm the entire walk there.

Once you entered her room, she only dropped your hand as she walked over to her side of the bed. She pulled back the covers as she got in bed, stopping to stare at you. You stood uncomfortably in the middle of the doorway as you looked around Sam’s room.

You felt like you saw a new side of Sam as you admired her room; the walls had old types of vinyl, and a single guitar was hanging from the wall. Along with the guitar, there were some framed movie posters, one being ‘Kill Bill’ that was signed. There was a singular bookshelf that didn’t have a single open spot. A record player was also sitting atop her desk in the corner of her room. How you missed all of these small details when you dropped off the cookies, you had no idea.

“What are you doing?” Sam questioned, pulling you out of your mind. “Sorry; I was just looking at your stuff,” you admitted with embarrassment as you walked over to the bed. You halted before getting in as if you were waiting for Sam to change her mind and kick you out suddenly.

“Is something wrong?” Sam asks as she leans up in bed, her doe eyes shimmering under the dimly lit light. “No, no. It’s just…,” you faltered on an excuse. You didn’t want to admit that you were nervous about sharing a bed with that goddess of a woman, but you also didn’t want her to think you were disgusted by the thought of sharing a bed with her. “Do you want me to sleep in my street clothes? I have New York on me, and I doubt you want that in your bed.”

With a sigh, Sam exits her warm, comfortable bed to grab you a pair of fresh clothes. She didn’t even bother to ask if you happened to have a spare set here-which you did; she started rifling through her closet.

“Here,” she stated as she handed you a faded shirt before walking to her chest of drawers. Sam opened her top drawer and grabbed a pair of shorts for you.

“Thank you,” you said softly while grabbing the shorts from her, “I’ll change in your bathroom real quick.”

Sam hummed in response as she quickly got back into bed, missing the warmth of it.

After you had changed out of your dirty clothes, you decided to put them in Sam’s hamper—a subtle move at her being able to keep your clothes without offering them.

As you left the bathroom, you were still slightly pulling down your shirt, only showing off the lower portion of your stomach. The skin was only visible briefly, but it caught Sam’s full attention.

The scars that littered your abdomen were scattered, but she could recognize a stab wound from anywhere. The story about Jill Roberts haunted you night and day, so you never told Sam about that nightmare. The only one who had some faint idea about it was Mindy, as she had seen you naked on a few occasions. She never asked about the scars; she felt that asking would have been more intimate and personal than the sex was.

But things were different with Sam; you wanted that intimacy with her. And she liked that intimacy with you. Sam wanted to be able to share every nasty, dark part of her past with you, just as much as she wanted you to tell her your dark past. It was opening up with your pasts that allowed you two to share a possible bright future.

So, she asked you about it. “What happened?”

It was a stupid question, but Sam wanted to know your side. Of course, she was aware of the fact you were involved with the 2011 Ghostface killings, but she wanted to know why you were targeted.

You softly sighed as you climbed into bed next to Sam, who was fully sitting up with her legs crossed as she stared at you, silently encouraging you to trust her. If there was going to be anyone to judge you for your past, it certainly wasn’t going to be Samantha Carpenter.

“Well, I was nine when it happened,” you began, “and I suppose it all boils down to being at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

You waited several seconds, debating whether you wanted to share this information. It wasn’t a secret; it was out there for the entire world to read about, courtesy of Gale Weathers, an author who turned a tragic story into a multi-million dollar yearly profit.

“Jill was my babysitter. It was after the first few attacks, and she was still babysitting me. She was always nice to me, well, about as nice as she could be. I had been messing around in her room, and I found this camera, so of course, I started to watch what was on it. On it were videos of all of the recent attacks, ruthless shit. Instead of telling her I found it, I hid it in my backpack, and I had planned to bring it to Judy Hicks. Well, Jill finds out that it’s missing and goes ape shit.”

You shifted around in bed as you got more comfortable, opting to fully lay down on your back as Sam propped herself up onto her elbow to engage herself in your traumatizing story fully.

“Anyways, she starts ripping the house apart, turning it inside out and upside down. Of course, she eventually finds it in my backpack, and I don’t even defend myself. I just stood there like a deer caught in headlights. The scariest part about it was that she didn’t even hesitate. One moment, she had my backpack in hand, then the next, she had a knife,” you finished, not wanting to recall the gruesome experience.

Sam was silent momentarily as she thought over what to say to you. She wanted to comfort you, but she didn’t know how. In a way, she felt like your attack had been her fault. Logically, it couldn’t have been, but she felt guilty about it, guilty about her father.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, especially at such a young age,” Sam stated. She truly did feel heartbroken for you, but she couldn’t seem to express her sorrow adequately. The only emotion she was good at convening was her anger, a trait she inherited from both her mother and father.

“It is what it is,” you replied with a soft sigh, “Who were you talking to earlier?”

The older Carpenter sister let out a small groan as she fell onto her back, running her hands down her face to add dramatic effect. “It was Danny,” she replied as she interlaced her fingers and placed them on her stomach.

“Oh yeah?” You asked with a teasing tone. Now it was your turn to prop up onto your elbow. “What did he want?”

“He just wanted to go on another date,” Sam responded, to which you huffed. This slight noise got her attention; she turned her head to the side to look at you as if she were studying your facial expressions to try and guess what you were thinking. “Why do you ask?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Just curious. You seemed annoyed, and you hung up pretty quickly. Just thought you were having a sneaky link I didn’t know about.”

“Oh, please. If I wanted a sneaky link, I certainly wouldn’t let my family know about it,” she joked softly, and your heart erupted. Sam’s smile was rare, even more rare around you. It was as if the angles had parted the sky, and you could catch a glimpse into heaven. It was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen, but the most teasing one.

“Okay, but be honest: what happened?” You pressed on while clarifying that you respected Sam’s boundaries if she didn’t want to tell you.

“We went on a date. Danny kissed me because he felt something; I didn’t feel anything. He called to ask me on another date; I said no. Simple as that,” she replied with a monotone voice, but you knew there was more to the story.

“Sam,” you said with a soft voice.

“Mhm?”

“I will throw myself out of your window if you don’t tell me the truth.”

“Oh my god, what the hell is wrong with you?” Sam questioned with a voice full of laughter as she smiled from ear to ear.

“Tell me, or I’ll paint the sidewalk red,” you joked with a smile that matched hers.

“I told him no because I don’t want to be with him,” she replied honestly as she stared at you with those dark, doe eyes. You swore you could get lost in that void. “Now, will you leave me alone so I can sleep?”

You scoffed at her but entirely laid down nonetheless. “I guess so,” you grumbled as you rolled onto your side, facing away from Sam.

Sam only laughed at your shitty attempt to pout as she got out of bed to turn off the overhead light. Once she was back in bed, she rolled onto her side to face your back.

Slowly and very hesitantly, she wiggled closer to you, wrapping a loving arm around your waist. Sam didn’t have to wait long before she felt your hand atop hers, pulling her closer to you. Soon enough, her entire front was pressed against your back, and you couldn’t have been happy. Your heart seemed to only beat for Sam, as your entire body started to feel like it was catching on fire.

“You know,” Sam whispered into the dark room, “I listened to Julien Baker the other day.”

“That’s not the one I was talking about,” you responded, not missing a beat.

She scoffed at your weak response, “There’s too many.”

“Girl, there are only three!”

“Whatever,” she mumbled while she pulled you closer into her body as if she couldn’t get enough of you. Sam placed a chaste kiss on your head before slowly drifting off to sleep, with you in her arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The picture frames hung on the walls rattled as the loud, booming sound of music filled the air. Against your will, the twins plus Tara dragged you to a frat party. Drunken college students mixed with obnoxious music was not your cup of tea, but you did enjoy the theme: early 2000s club. From Lady Gaga to Timbaland, even to Beyoncé, it was the first time a party had gotten the music right! There’s nothing wrong with today’s music; they don’t make them like they used to.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” Tara offered. Even though she forced you to go out tonight, she still wanted you to have fun without pressuring you to do too much. She could be a little asshole sometimes, but she had her soft moments.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” you replied softly. The two of you were sitting together on the only couch that didn't have people either passed out or making out, even though Tara suggested doing either with you.

“Tara, I think you are wonderful and completely captivating, but I do not want your tongue down my throat,” you joked with a soft laugh. The younger Carpenter whined in response as she kicked her feet up into your lap.

“Oh yeah, I forgot. It’s the other Carpenter’s tongue you want,” she teased with a wink as she made a V with her middle and pointer finger, bringing it to her lips while sticking out her tongue.

“What is wrong with you?” You questioned while politely shoving the more petite girl, forcing her to stop. “Oh yeah, how come I found you two wrapped up in each other’s arms then? Mmm?” She pressed.

It was a simple question but an entirely challenging one as well. You needed a place to sleep, so Sam offered to share her bed with you, as it was better than the couch. That part you could explain, but you couldn’t explain why or how you woke to Sam’s face pressed against your chest. It was the first time you had ever felt so loved, so seen. It wasn’t just you who had found so much comfort that night. Sam loved falling asleep to your heartbeat; the drumming sound soon became a lullaby.

“She tried to kill me and forced me to share her bed for warmth,” you stated, but Tara didn’t believe you for a second. “You know, if you would have told me that four months ago, I would have believed you. But now that you have stolen my sister from me and somehow tricked her into falling for you, I don’t believe you.”

Your ears perked up at the mention of Sam falling for you, and your cheeks started to get warm at the thought of Sam recouping your feelings. “She likes me?” You asked with a love-sick smile on your lips.

Tara rolled her eyes at your question and pushed herself off your lap. “I don’t know how you did it, but Sam cares about you. I think she started to go soft on you when you took her to that musical,” she stated as she stuck out her right arm to you. You grabbed onto her hand and allowed the more petite girl to pull you off of the couch, then you followed her into the kitchen.

“I didn’t even know that Sam likes musicals,” you commented as you grabbed a Seagram from the bucket full of ice on the kitchen island. “She loves them more than me. I fully believe Sam would sell me for some ‘Six’ tickets,” Tara remarked as she grabbed a beer.

You laughed at the younger Carpenter comment. Sadly, she wasn’t being dramatic; you now knew the extent of Sam’s love for musicals, and you hated that you agreed with Tara.

“Yeah, I hate that you believe you on that one,” you replied as you followed Tara into the backyard. The two of you sat down together on a swing, drinking in silence as you two silently judged the drunks amongst you.

All in all, it was a nice night to socialize; exams were finished up for the week, and you two needed a break from all of it. It was nice to get out occasionally with friends, even though you preferred drinking the safety net of your own home. It wasn’t because you didn’t trust people. It was that you hated being around drunk people, and you were a homebody. But just when you started relaxing at the party, the universe had to ruin it for you.

It wasn’t anything terrible at first; Tara had left to grab some more beers for the two of you. She was back within a minute, and as she walked toward you, a man grabbed her arm and pulled her into him.

You couldn’t hear what was being said, but you could tell from the anger in Tara’s eyes that it wasn’t anything good. Sometimes, you wondered if the Loomis genes were airborne, due to how quickly Tara got angry and violent.

Before you had any time to react, Tara had taken the beer bottle in her right hand and smashed it against the man’s head, causing him to fall to the ground. You quickly sprang up from your comfortable seat as you rushed over to Tara, now held back by two of your friends from college. You checked over her hands to ensure no glass had gotten in them, and when you deemed her safe, you took her from friends, who then went to check on the man, who was still on the ground.

“Come on,” you mumbled as you dragged Tara from the backyard and into the front yard.

When you two entered the front yard, she shook herself from your grasp and dramatically flung herself onto the ground, sighing in defeat. The air was full of tension as you stared down at the more petite girl, who held her head in shame.

“What happened?” You questioned as you sat down next to her. With a sigh, she wrapped her arm around yours and rested her head on your shoulder. “He’s from my theoretical film studies class. The other day, we had argued about the Harry Potter movies. And-do not fucking laugh at that!” She exclaimed as she playfully smacked your arm once you started to laugh at her.

“I’m sorry, but you two argued over Harry Potter?” You asked with laughter in your voice, “That’s insane!”

“Shut up, no, it's not. Anyways, before I was so rudely interrupted,” she replied with attitude, “the argument was over who was the real bad guy: Dumbledore or Snape. We disagreed, but we didn’t have enough time to discuss it before class ended. Tonight, he stopped me to tell me I was wrong and that he was right, and I kinda got a little angry.”

“‘A little angry?’ You smashed a bottle against his head,” you exclaimed with a look of bewilderment.

“I’m little; my anger fills up my entire body, and sometimes it gets the best of me,” she shrugged as she stood up and held out a hand, “Come on, let's go home.”

You accepted her hand as you followed her home. You didn’t need to ask what she meant by home; you both knew it was the Carpenter’s apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You did what?!” Sam shouted as she stared down you and Tara. The two of you were sitting down on the couch together, sharing shame as you listened to Sam ridicule you. “I let you go out for one night and I promised not to text you the entire time, and you do this? And you,” she then turned her attention toward you, “I can’t believe you let this happen.”

“Sam, I'm so sorry. It happened so quick and I-” you tried to defend but she interrupted you. “You had one job, Y/n. One!”

Sam paced back and forth as she rubbed her temples. This was supposed to be a night of relaxing; she had already had two glasses of wine and ate a little bit too much pasta that was acceptable. Sam even had plans to ask you to stay the night again, that’s why she had the wine; she needed that liquid courage to taste your lips for the first time.

But now, as she went over the possible outcomes of her sister assaulting one of her classmates, all she wanted to do was go to sleep. With a sigh, she dropped her hands and stopped pacing. “Alright,” Sam said in a defeated voice, “I will let it slide, but just this once. Go take your shower, but then you are going to bed.”

Tara was out of the room as soon as Sam said it was okay, not wanting to waste a second as she feared that her sister might change her mind. Tara also wanted to give her sister some alone time with you; she noticed the wine glass on the living room table and she was praying that tonight would be the night the two of you stopped pussyfooting around.

“Sam?” Your voice pulled her out of her thoughts and her eyes automatically snapped to you. “What’s up?” She asked.

You stood up from the couch as you approached her. “I’m sorry about tonight. If I would have known that was going to happen, I would have stopped her,” you apologized but Sam was already shaking her head.

“No, it's okay,” she replied as she grabbed her wine glass and finished it off as she walked into the kitchen, with you a few paces behind her.

“Are you sure?” You quietly asked as you awkwardly looked around. “Yeah. Why do you ask?” She questioned as she placed her glass on the counter and looked at you. You could feel her eyes burning into your skin, and you couldn’t help the words that soon poured out of your mouth.

“I don’t know, I’m just worried that you are actually really upset with me but you don’t want to tell me that because you don’t want to upset me. I’m worried that things are different between us now, and I don’t know why I feel that. I’m just terrified I fucked up somehow, and I really really like you, Sam. I’ve worked so hard to gain your trust and now I’m scared I lost it. So, I am so sorry-” she cut off your rambling by cupping your cheeks and pressing her lips against yours.

Your heart automatically started beating quicker as your hands found home on her hips, pulling her closer into you. When you kissed her back, you could have sworn she let out the slightest moan, and it drove your mind insane.

You couldn’t recall her walking toward you, but the only thing that was running through your mind was how soft her lips were; how sweet they tasted mixed with the wine.

The wine.

You quickly pulled away from Sam’s lips. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to do anything while you’ve been drinking,” you apologized, but your eyes darted between Sam’s own eyes and her lips.

With a soft laugh, Sam leaned forward and kissed your cheek, something she had found out she loved doing. “It’s okay, Y/N. I really really like you too, and I hope that we could possibly go on another date again soon?” Sam asked with a look of hopefulness, and you had to fight the urge to lean back in.

“You’re also considering the musical a date too?” You questioned with red cheeks. Sam nodded her head with a smile that matched hers, and oh how your heart beat for the woman in front of you. You swore you were love drunk off those lips that you’ve only tasted once, but now that you’ve tasted them, you’re sure that nothing was as sweet.

“Y/N, would you like to stay the night?” Sam asked, “With me?”

“Are you trying to get in my pants?” You teased as you playfully pushed her shoulders, to which she grabbed your hand and pulled you into her.

Sam reached up with her right hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, then ran her fingers down the side of your jaw as she admired your features. “I’ve been an asshole to you, I know that,” she admitted as her thumb stroked your jawline, “But I hope over time I can make it up to you fully. I’ve blamed you for things that weren’t your fault and I’m sorry I was that dense. I know you are just following Gale’s writing as a way to forge your own career, and I shouldn’t have blamed you for the book she wrote.”

Sam took a deep breath as she tried to collect her thoughts. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry for how much of a dick I’ve been to you, and I would like to make it up to you,” her voice got quieter as her eyes refused to meet yours, “By hopefully being your girlfriend?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to wrap your mind around what Sam just asked. When her eyes did meet yours, they were holding so much love and hope that you felt your heart explode. Tears welded in your eyes as you cupped her cheeks and pulled her into a loving kiss, forgetting about the alcohol in her system.

“I would love to be your girlfriend,” you mumbled against her lips as you quickly pecked them, “But how much have you had to drink tonight?”

The older Carpenter sister laughed at your comment as she grabbed your hand, pulling you toward her room. “I’m fine, Y/N. I’m sure you and the demon child have had more than me. Besides, I only needed a few drinks to actually make a move on you,” Sam admitted as she opened her bedroom door and dropped your hand, to your disappointment, “But how much have you had?”

You shrugged your shoulders as you walked over to the vinyl set in Sam’s room and began flipping through them. “I’m fine; a little buzzed but nothing too bad,” you replied.

“Mhm, yeah, you’re not as awkward as you usually are. I don’t like it,” Sam stated as she handed you a clean pair of clothes to change into you. You noticed they were her clothes, and an embarrassing large smile over took your lips as you finally realized that Sam Carpenter was your girlfriend.

You leaned to kiss her, but Sam placed her hands on your shoulders, preventing you from doing so. You gave her a little pout, so to make you feel just a little bit better, she sighed and gave your cheek a kiss. “Go change and get ready for bed,” she quietly commanded you and you did as told.

The clothes fit you perfectly, as if Sam had bought them just for you. There was a toothbrush laying on the sink, still in its packaging, and you knew that Sam had gone out shopping for you tonight.

Walking into the bedroom, you climbed into bed with the older Carpenter, who was sitting upright with her back against the headboard of her bed, reading a book. “Did you buy me a toothbrush today?” You asked as you laid down and scooted closer to Sam, wrapping your arm around her waist.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied as placed her bookmark in the book and set it down on the nightstand, “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because there was a toothbrush that hadn’t been opened yet, and these clothes fit a little bit too nice,” you commented as you watched Sam turn off the bedside lamp and lay down next to you.

“Yeah, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she denied as she pulled you into her body. Sam brought her hand up to the back of your neck and brought your head close to her chest. You sighed in comfort as you nozzled your head, hoping to get as close as you can to her breasts without making Sam uncomfortable.

Sam placed a kiss on your head as she tightly hugged you, “Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight, my lovely girlfriend who used to hate me,” you cheekily replied, earning a laugh from Sam.

“When will you ever let that go?” Sam asked with a slight annoyance in her voice, but you knew she was joking.

“I don’t know, until I’ve deemed that enough time has passed for me to be able to move on,” you replied, “But a goodnight kiss would help.”

The Latina chuckled at your words as the hand that was your head was now cupping your cheeks, pulling you into a loving kiss. Her lips were soft and warm, and you knew that you could never leave them. So when Sam pulled away, you chased after her lips, hoping to taste them for just a second longer.

But she stopped you, much to your disappointment. “In the morning you will give you all of the special treatment you want. But for now, let’s go to bed,” Sam stated in a loving voice, and all you did was nod your agreement. You placed your head back on your chest as you two allowed sleep to overtake you.

When the morning came, you awoke before Sam, greeting her with kisses all over her face and sweet nothings about how much you cherished her as your girlfriend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @elduster @silentwolfsstuff @maskthedwarf @canvascoloredin

#sam carpenter #scream #melissa barrera #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x fem reader #sam carpenter x reader #Tara carpenter #wlw

1K notes · View notes

crazyoffher · 8 months

Text

THOUGHTS & PRAYERS.

jenna ortega x fem!reader

summary: drunk at a party, it takes you more effort to calm jenna's actions than you expected.

warnings: smut (18+) — masturbation, strap-on referred to as “cock”, praise, teasing, small mention of light choking, finger sucking, nipple sucking, slapping (yippee!), shortly withheld orgasm, begging -> mentions of alcohol (drunk!jenna), weed, and use of vulgar language. dom!r + sub!j

word amount: 4700+

a/n: happy (very late 😭) birthday, wes :) @wesstars

“Maybe we should go, Jen.”

You tugged the short girl by her arm mindlessly, failing to remember her drunken, unstable frame of mind. She stumbled into you, her hands moving to stabilize herself on your chest with a sharp yelp of terror.

Your hands wrapped around her waist to keep her upright, sending fake smiles to those who eyed the two of you. “Sorry! This is what I mean, Jenna. You’ve had enough to drink; why don’t we call it a d-”

“No!” Jenna’s face buried itself into your chest for a split second, seemingly to catch her breath, before she pushed herself off you with a lazy grin. “I’m fine, love. Go,” she pushed your chest playfully, “and enjoy yourself for once! I’ll be by the table.”

Her speech slurred, and you reminded yourself to give a couple of her friends an earful later for getting her into that state. You watched with a sigh as she stumbled into the house's living room, shoulders tense from your worry, and you laughed at the irony of her words. She was the one causing you the stress she claimed you needed to get rid of, so how could she advise you to unwind?

You followed your feet to the backyard of the house, where the view of a softly illuminated pool area and the scent of the outdoors offered a welcome contrast to the raucous noise of people chatting loudly over booming music and the lingering smell of alcohol and marijuana (along with whatever else was circulating inside the house). The only break in the noise was the group of four people by the hot tub, engaged in animated and playful banter.

The pool shone as you grew closer to it, sitting down on the edge of it with your knees hugging up to your chest. You never liked loud things or partying, and everybody you met and knew found humor in it, as that was mainly what your entire acting career was built around. You couldn’t go a month without being dragged to a lousy party that consisted of at least one person trying to get you high, and hell, the only reason you went to the one you sullenly found yourself at currently was because of your girlfriend.

“Uh, hey.”

Your mind snapped away from your lost thoughts, and you turned to be met with a girl who gave you a delicate smile, wrapped in a towel with wet hair dripping down the top of her back and onto the covering fabric. “Can I sit with you?”

You only nodded, the tips of your fingers drumming along to a beat that played in your head, to try and disregard the half-naked girl beside you. She didn’t seem to be much of a bother, though, awaiting only the soft company that she felt you would provide.

“Not a talker, I suppose?” Her head quirked up from its formerly bent stature, turning with raised eyebrows in the hope that you’d answer her question, which you did. “Not really with people I meet, let alone a girl that seems to be naked underneath a towel.”

Her smile grew at the monotone joke you spurred, and she let out a mild breath to resemble the humor she found in it. It was only when she first sat down that you realized, from your peripherals, that there was no strap of a bra or bathing suit visible on her shoulders, and you almost knocked yourself in the head in a physical manner for not realizing sooner.

You questioned her. “Come on; aren’t you freezing? It’s like 45 degrees out.” Your neck craned away, feeling your tenses of shivers overcome you, and you pondered how the girl seemed unfazed by the chilly weather. “I grew up in Minnesota. I used to go skinny dipping in frozen lakes, so I think I’m good for this weather.”

Her speaking to you made you feel uneasy in a way, considering the lack of clothes she stood in and the thoughtless conversation she was advancing toward you. Jenna would undoubtedly give you an earful for even allowing her near you, but you shook the thought away at the girl's following words and the overcoming fact that Jenna was probably cornered by flirtatious men at that moment.

“Plus, this wasn’t even my idea.” She gestured to her covered body, and you picked up on the fact that she was referring to her lack of clothing. “It was my boyfriend's over there. Bet me around twenty bucks I couldn’t last in that volcano pool even in this weather, but that sucker quit before I was even getting started.”

Her finger stretched outward, pointing in the direction of a man covered in two towels, visibly shaking from the frostiness, and you let out a small snicker at the sight. Alright, maybe it wasn’t such a tense situation then, but you still couldn’t help but worry about Jenna in the back of your mind and whether you should go check on her.

As if the universe could read your mind, your phone buzzed with a custom ring that you had designed for Jenna’s messages, and the semi-naked girl's eyes widened at the sight of you practically clawing into your pants for the device. You pulled it out with strength, almost dropping it into the pool in the process, before hurryingly clicking on Jenna’s message.

Com gt me i thined ive hac enuh two drivnk

Where are you?

K154hen flerr

“What do you think this says?” You pointed your phone toward the girl, darted a finger at the most recent text sent by Jenna, and her eyes squinted in an attempt to decode. “Kitchen floor?”

“Bingo.” You rang, pulling yourself up from the concrete floor, and the girl held onto her towel as she managed to get on her feet. You darted your eyes between her and her boyfriend, who still sat there, wrapping a third towel around him that seemed to be for the remaining people in the hot tub, and you raised an eyebrow at her. “Well, if you excuse me, I have to go and retrieve my drunk girlfriend.”

“I might as well go with you,” she said as she adjusted the towel, turning to glance at her boyfriend. “I left his and my clothes in a room upstairs, and I think he needs his.”

“Be my guest.” You moved to the side, allowing the unnamed girl to go ahead, to which she sauntered, giving her boyfriend a warning of her temporary absence as she headed up the small hill to the back door with you trailing behind. The stench of weed and alcohol hit you like a flash flood, and you mentally recoiled at the stench that seemed to have grown stronger.

“Jenna?” You called out as you turned to the kitchen, swerving past girls and guys who were spilling their drinks, and you spotted the girl on the floor with a tired expression etched on her face. A smile grew on her lips at the sight of you, though it dropped almost immediately when her eyes met the semi-naked girl behind you, who whispered to you with curious eyes, “Hey, I think you forgot to mention you were dating Jenna Ortega.”

“Hey!” You lunged forward at Jenna’s attempt to stand up, holding the drunken girl in your grip when she stumbled on nothing but air, though that didn’t deter her attitude toward your new friend. “Keep away from my girlfriend!”

“Jenna,” you warned, sending the girl behind you a look of sorrow, to which she just nodded, “Relax, baby. You’re drunk, you know that?”

“Nuh-uh.” She pouted, clinging onto your torso in an iron-grip hug to try and divert you away from the girl, sending her looks of anger that she seemed to back up at. “I’ll go get my clothes.” She pointed to the stairs behind her all the while backing up, to which you nodded while trying to stabilize Jenna further.

“Yeah, leave, you whore!”

“Jenna!” You scolded her, and she muttered something incomprehensible before burying her face in your chest. You could smell the mixture of alcohol and her perfume, and that alone told you enough about her current state. “You got it?”

“Mhm.” She hummed when you had to pull her away from you and set her on her feet, only for her to take one step forward and crash into the table in front of her. You held back a laugh and put on a face of worry, pulling Jenna up only to see her laughing at her tumble.

Once more, she wrapped her arms around you and buried her face into your chest with a sigh, her drunken haze spurring more than just her inability to walk stably. “Do you know what I would love to do?” Her words were slurring, and she gave out a slight giggle at the end of her sentence, giving you a small idea of her next words.

“What is it?”

She spoke one word that you couldn’t comprehend before she giggled again, moving her face from your chest to raise herself an inch or two on the tips of her shoes, her lips grazing your ear as she spoke out a slurry, “For you to bend me over this table and fuck me raw for everybody to see.”

Your eyes widened immediately, and you felt a small burn in your stomach when her fanged teeth nibbled gently at your earlobe and her hands slid down your abdomen. You could only thank God and your alcohol-addicted party-thrower friend for managing to get 95% of the party attendees drunk out of their minds.

“Freaky and tempting,” you said, leaning into Jenna’s touch and watching a small grin tug its way onto her face, “but no.” And so you pushed her away, getting a small whine out of her while her hands bawled into fists on your shirt, trying to pull you closer to no avail.

You wrapped an arm around her shoulders, your hand gripping the base of her right one as you tugged her along and out of the kitchen area. “Now come on. I can’t drive you home without the fear of you somehow making us crash, so you are going upstairs.” You pointed to the staircase that the two of you advanced toward, and Jenna let out a small giggle at the thought of you and her alone in a guest bedroom, her mind rushing to dirty thoughts.

It took a while, with emphasis on the ‘while’, to get Jenna up the stairs; her legs seemed to have forgotten how to raise themselves, so with multiple rounds of struggle, you ended up dragging her by her torso up the stairs while she laughed wildly. Your key plunged into the hole of the lock, cracking open the door with the small piece of metal your friend had gifted you when he first bought the mansion, seeing as he kept all his guest doors locked for privacy.

“Okay, ther- baby, no.” A grunt left your mouth when Jenna attempted to pull you down on the bed with her; a loud whine of her own left her mouth when you pulled away your hand that was formerly in her grip, trying to be pushed down into her crotch.

Her head dug into the bed, whining from the sexual denial you granted. “Why not?”

“I’m not going to touch you when you can’t give me a truthful form of consent, baby. I’ll be back.” You turned to the door, shaking your head at Jenna’s loud groan at the idea of your temporary departure. “We’re dating, for fucks sake! How much more consent could you need?”

With a slight hop in your step, you hurried down to the kitchen, where you had previously encountered chaos, to get water bottles with the intention of trying to sober Jenna up. You ran into your friend on the way back up, and he gave you a good laugh at your explanation regarding Jenna before approving your request to stay the night.

“Just don’t fuck in my bed, ‘aight?”

“I promise I won’t!” You meant it at the time, though your statement didn’t withhold itself later, to his demise.

“Jenna?- oh!” You shut the door behind you quickly, gulping at the sight of Jenna sprawled out on the bed, her pants long discarded on the edge of the bed along with her underwear, and her hand in between her legs. She moaned breathlessly, finding relief in rolling her hips into her hand, and she bit her lip to suppress a moan when she locked eyes with you.

“Please, baby, this isn’t enough.” She begged, her hand circling her clit with a sloppy pace, and her heaving breaths contracted her sentence. “Need you so bad, please.”

Your hand dove for the door handle from behind you, turning the lock, and that gave Jenna a glint of excitement; she’d finally get what she desired and-

“No, and drink these.” You put your hand up, referring to the four water bottles that you managed to stack into a single hand, before walking forward to set them down on the nightstand beside the bed.

Jenna’s hand retracted from her clit, the nub throbbing with need, and she pulled herself up with the remaining strength that held her to sit on the edge of the bed, facing you. “I can see it,” and even through the slurs, her voice still sounded like honey, “You want it too, and this is me giving you my co-consent, or whatever the hell it is you want.” Her arms stretched forward, grabbing you by the shirt and pulling you flush against her, hands snaking to your bottom half with an erratic shiver from you.

“Please,” Her thighs managed to encapture your left leg, and she wasted no time in thrusting her hips into your clothed body, a burning sensation pooling its way back into her stomach. “Fuck, I need you, ri-what the-?”

She yelled out in shock, pulling away from you and moving to wipe off the liquid you had thrown at her face. “What the fuck, (Y/N)?”

You sighed, closing the cap of the now half-empty water bottle before throwing it toward her. “Is that bringing you to life, finally?”

“I’m not drinking this.” She argued, throwing it toward you just for you to deflect it and toss it back in her lap. It only took the look in your eye for Jenna to open the bottle and start drinking, shrinking under your dead gaze and dribbling water on herself.

She maneuvered around on the bed in discomfort from both her wet shirt and her aching clit, moving to discard her shirt. Jenna’s body was breathtaking, and she still found hope that she’d get what she desired most when you couldn’t tear your eyes off of her perky breasts no matter how hard you tried, eyes darting back and forth to try and not make it obvious, but she could see right through you.

“(Y/N),” she whispered, her words like silk, and you turned your head to meet her gaze. “Please.”

Her voice, formerly smooth, had turned desperate, her thighs rubbing against one another to find a sense of relief, and she whimpered at the small senses of pleasure while making eye contact with you. You practically drooled at the sight of her completely naked, desperate for your touch, and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold off.

“Jenna?” Her head shot up at your voice, the same sense of desperation lingering in her eyes and through the small whimpers that left her mouth. “What’s your last name?”

“Ortega. Is that good enough confirmation for you now?” Her voice grew in angst, becoming more deterred by each moment you left her naked, completely vulnerable, in front of you.

“Alright.”

You sighed, and before Jenna could comprehend what you had said, you were on top of her with your legs entrapping her thighs, pulling her into a brutal kiss that she immediately reciprocated. Her hands roamed your body, sliding underneath your shirt to feel the way your muscles contracted under her touch, sending excessive shivers down your back that she ached to deepen.

In a merciless grind against your clothed core, Jenna's hands dug down to your belt, only to be slapped away and repositioned above her head, linked together as your hand bound them with your wrist. Her back met the bed, and you wasted no time in angling her head to the side with your other hand to sink your teeth into her neck flesh, like a vampire, to create a later painful and dark hickey—a marking.

“Fuck.” She moaned out, eyes shut, with a whimper to follow at the piercing mania. As you felt up her waist, your fingers trailed along the center of her body before you licked her neck, moving your hand per the arch her back made. Jenna’s fingers dug into your scalp, pulling you closer to her neck while she resumed her hip movement.

“Come here,” you whispered, removing yourself from Jenna. A whine fell from her lips until she was directed onto your waist, her breasts jumping straight in your face, and you sneered in satisfaction. Your hands ran up and down the outline of her body, feeling the way her body curled inward from her perfect figure, and you always made sure to acknowledge it.

Your eyes traced from where your hands led before meeting her gaze with a tilt of your head, and how your eyes looked oh-so innocent drove Jenna’s mind wild, a drastic comparison forming from her desperate, needy eyes. She followed your eyes as you moved your head forward, taking a nipple into your mouth, sucking on it feverishly. You relished the way Jenna reacted: a loud moan, head flying back, and her hands digging into your scalp to push you further into her, if possible.

“Agh- fuck!”

The contact itself wasn’t all that pleasurable, but the recognition that it was your mouth on her body was enough to send her mind spiraling. She was too swept up in the lust, acting as if she had never experienced one’s touch, to pay attention as your fingers slid into the tiny space between her core and your waist until one of your fingers bumped against her clit. A loud gasp erupted from her, and her hips immediately ground down into your hand.

“Baby, no,” you warned, but she didn’t stop her movements, pushing and rolling her hips into your hand to gain sensational pleasure. Boldly, she reached both her hands down to grasp at yours and push it further into her core, but her plan would not succeed by itself.

You pushed your body forward, leading Jenna’s movements to a halt in a collapsed state. Now resuming the position on her back, she let out a whine that grew into a loud yelp when your hand met her dripping pussy with a harsh smack. “I said no; you got that?”

When she didn’t reply, you sent another smack to her pussy that made her legs shake, a blissful whine erupting from her, and she nodded her head eagerly. “Yes!”

“Good girl,” you purred, leaning your weight down to give her a chaste kiss on the lips. Your fingers lingered on her cheek, running their tips along her jawbone, before you withdrew your hand to deliver a light smack to the skin, compelling Jenna to groan and bite her lip. “You’ll never realize how mad you drive me.”

Jenna’s eyes widened when she felt a hard surface rut against her dripping core, drowning the surfacing fabric of your pants in her slick, and she bit back moans at the slow pace you ground on her. “You’ve had that the whole night?”

“I didn’t expect you to get drunk, baby,” your thumb encircled her lips, “and I didn’t want to do anything else tonight but fuck you rough in that pool outside, but this will do.”

Jenna sucked on your finger when you inserted it in her mouth, running her tongue up and down the skin, and it gave you a purposeful reminder of how she’d suck off your strap-on any day, her knees constantly bruised from the wooden flooring she’d kneel on while whoring out her mouth for your cock.

The imagery that flashed through your mind made you drive your thumb inside her deeper while your other hand worked at your belt, taking off the leather lining to release the grip it had on your waist. Instead of unbuttoning the clothing article, you simply unzipped it to open the crotch and wasted no time in pulling out the silicone material, pushing the tip against Jenna’s clit to send her mind spiraling.

She let out pitiful moans as you continued to finger-fuck her mouth, ‘accidentally’ pushing the silicone tip further into her clit and making her hips buck up in desperation, and her teary, doe-eyed pupils looked up at you with silent pleads. You enjoyed the view more than anything; finding Jenna underneath you, so needy and ready for your cock, was a sight people yearned for, but only you could ever get it.

“You want it, hm?” Your hips drew forward with a stern smirk growing on your lips, swiftly entering the tip halfway into her before snapping your hips back, and Jenna bit at your thumb. The hair that covered her face in her disheveled state jumped up as she nodded her head eagerly, finding difficulty in begging when your thumb was knuckle-deep in her mouth, tickling at her throat.

“I can tell; you’re practically drooling, baby.” A dribble of spit was rolling down her chin, and you knew it was solely because of your thumb shoved deep into her mouth, but why waste a perfect opportunity for teasing? It’d be so unlike you.

With a loud pop and a string of saliva attached, you removed your thumb from Jenna’s mouth, and she let out sharp breaths that soon grew into whines of discomfort. Her whines grew heavier as she started to grind her hips into your cock, her head flung back, and her hands gripped the bedsheets with intense strength while she tried to bring herself to orgasm from just grinding on you.

“No, alright? Can you hear me this time?” You pushed down on her hips in an attempt to still them, but your words only fell on deaf ears. Her movements were unwavering, and she pressed herself against you while whining louder and louder. Her back arched, and her nipples hardened from the intensity of what she was feeling, all the while disobeying your command purposefully just so she could feel something.

A shaky moan escaped her lips when your hand brought itself forward for a harsh smack to her breast, immediately taking two fingers to tug at her nipple afterward and leaving Jenna to choke for air. “What, you can’t fucking listen to me? I said no.”

Jenna never got her chance to apologize insincerely, flaring her mouth with the expectation of words to come out, but the only thing that left those plump lips was a high-pitched moan at the unexpected movement of you sinking your entire cock into her. Despite having no neural connection with the silicone that drove your girlfriend crazy, you could feel Jenna stretch around it, and the acknowledgment alone could have left you braindead.

“Fuck,” you groaned, finding pleasure in the dumbed-up expression on Jenna’s face alone, “taking me so fucking well. I can almost feel you, baby; it’s driving me insane.” Your hips retracted with no intention of slowing down, finding enjoyment in the tormented countenance that shone on Jenna, the pain and pleasure mixture practically splattering on her face.

You thrust along at a moderate speed, holding Jenna’s waist and upholding her slightly to drive your cock deeper into her, forming her into a moaning mess in a matter of seconds. Even through the loud music booming from outside the room, your attention was focused on the breathtaking girl in front of you, all submissive and so needy for you with those pleading whines that left her mouth, mindlessly begging you to go faster.

“Yeah, want me to go faster, hm?” Jenna’s head perked up at your inquiry, bobbing back and forth in a wordless answer, and you gripped her nipple tight once more. “You have a voice. Use it.”

She let out a whiny “please” before reaching up to grasp your hand that was around her breast for support, discreetly trying to roll her hips further into your cock. “I said to stop doing that.” You tugged at her nipple upward, farther than last time, and Jenna let out a shriek at the shock of pain that inflicted her. “A simple please won’t get you anywhere; you want to act like a whore tonight? Then beg like one.”

The only thing that left her lips was a grunt when you snapped your hips forward, bottoming into her with a single movement, and the slowed retraction of your hips was enough to get her going. “Fuck, please, baby! I need you so bad…” Her words droned out in a sobbing tone, throwing her head back in disoriented whines. “Need you deep in me right now. Please.”

You bent down to give her a kiss of appreciation before driving your hips deep inside her. A girthy moan left her lips that turned into high-pitched moans when you thrust faster into her, holding on to her hips for support. You met her eyes, melting in the way they looked up at you with a combination of gratitude and pleasure. Oh, how she looked so pretty under you.

Your pace grew faster by the second, sweat beads forming at the edge of your hairline while your hand dove down, rubbing Jenna’s aching clit. Her back arched up almost immediately, letting out a moan that you’d be surprised nobody heard even through the music that played through the house, droned out between the two of you behind the locked door. Your eyes lingered on the way her thighs started to tremble and the way her breaths grew heavier between moans, making you smirk in satisfaction.

“God, I wish I could feel you, ‘cause I know that you would feel so good.” You breathed, unintentionally letting out a small moan that was soon discarded from Jenna’s mind when you snapped your hips roughly, sending her mind spiraling. “You’re close, hm? Think you can hold it off for a little, baby?”

“I-I’m not sure,” she managed to say, her mind dumbing down when your hand slithered up her chest to squeeze lightly at her neck. Her pleasure increased with each passing second, and her cunt ached for a release that she knew she could not grant without making you angry at her for disobeying.

“Just a little longer, okay?” You reassured her, not failing to notice the way your movements became more restricted. Jenna’s walls tightened to hold back her orgasm, which desperately ached against the walls of her cunt. Her breathing labored as her hands clawed their way up to your shoulders, pushing you down and against her to hook her thighs on your hips.

Her head leaned into the crook of your neck, filthy moans leaving her mouth instantly when you spewed out the words, “Cum for me,” and so she did. As she rose to her high, your hands dove to her back, arms encircling her torso. With each passing second, her body trembled increasingly, until the only sensation left for your hands to hold onto was the feeling of her labored breathing.

One of your hands made its way to her chest, dipping between the small gap of her breasts to settle over her heart, soothing the area with your thumb while you directed her breathing to try and ease her mind. “Are you okay?”

She only nodded her head, her hands sliding their way up to the back of your head to pull you in for a deep kiss, showcasing her appreciation despite her former misbehaving antics. You gave her a solemn smile, rehooking both your hands on the small of her back to push her onto your lap. Your back met the headboard, and Jenna’s head dipped down to give you one more kiss. Shivers ran down her spine when your breath tickled her ear.

“Think you can give me one more?”

☟

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#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams #celebrity x reader #jenna ortega smut #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader smut #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna marie ortega #tara carpenter #tara carpenter smut #wednesday addams x reader #lorraine day #writing #fanfiction #smut #lesbian

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classypauli · 22 days

Text

𝑫𝑶𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹’𝑺 𝑻𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻

Part 2

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x fem!Reader

Summary: After so long Tara finally meets you again... only this time a little drunk.

Word count: 3k

It has now been a couple of weeks since visiting the hospital. People would think that Tara has already forgotten about what happened but the opposite is true. In those weeks there wasn´t a day she would not think about you. Her mind was repeating what happened and everytime a smile grew on her face. Mindy and Chad started to make fun of her, saying she looked like a kid first time having a crush. She doesn´t care.

Tara wanted to see you, so badly. She started thinking about how to get to see you again, like she would play another attack and go to the hospital, which to be honest was too cruel, or she would just go there and act like she had some examination and suddenly she saw you start to talk with you, then you would ask her to go on a date with her, you would start dating and-

God, she needs to stop. Young Carpenter sighed and put her head on the table. The voice of her professor was muted in her ears, today she felt like sleeping, just laying in her bed all day doing nothing. It was friday and she promised to go to some party. Mindy has been talking about it forever.

„Mindy I´m not in a mood right now.“ The girl turned her forehead against the table.

„I didn´t even say anything!“ Mindy scanned the shorter girl, looking for any signs of sickness. „You don´t feel good?“ she asked now with a normal tone. Tara shook her head.

„Well then we should probably call some doctor, who knows, maybe they will help you.“ Tara punched the girl beside her, making an angry noise from being teased on.

„Who does he think he is?!“ Tara was angry. They were currently at the party Mindy talked about. Everything was fine at first, everyone was minding their business, and they danced and drank, talked and joked around. It was so much fun.

But that fun soon disturbed that idiot Frankie. He was being himself of course and was trying to get with every girl there, including Tara. But the girl wasn´t in the mood for his stupid games. At first, she ignored him but as soon as he was touchy and started grabbing her to go upstairs, she became furious.

She yelled at him so hard the boy even flinched, wasn´t expecting this behavior from a sweet girl like Tara. Yeah, like she was some easy prey. He then became angry and embarrassed but knowing a lot of people were around him he couldn´t do anything.

„He is a prick Tara forget about him.“ Mindy was standing beside her watching as her friend was getting more alcohol into her cup. Tara wasn´t really drunk, yet at least. And after this incident, she just wanted to get alcohol into her system to forget about his ugly ass face.

„Like...“ the short girl let out and furious sigh out of her lips. „he is such a fucking idiot I´m surprised no girl has punched him yet.“ Tara shook her head at the bitter taste as the alcohol touched her tongue. Maybe she will be first.

„Oh! And on top of that-“

„Tara.“ Mindy said from her side but she only continued, she didn´t even notice the hand of her on her right shoulder.

„-he even-„

„Tara.“ Mindy said a little louder through the loud music that was playing in the house.

„Fuck Mindy what!“ Tara looked at her friend, raising her voice a little. She wasn´t angry at her, of course not and Mindy also knew that, but Tara had a short temper.

„Apollo at 9 o´clock.“

Tara turned pale. Her eyes widen and her body becomes stiff. She felt like she had forgotten how to breathe. What did she say? No, that can´t be. The only person they were calling Apollo was...

„Tara fucking turn around.“ Mindy said between her clenched teeth as she kept looking at the way she told her to look at.

Tara took a big breath trying to calm her beating heart and shot her eyes to the left. There was a group of friends chatting and laughing, they had beers and cups in their hands as they were standing by the side of the room so as not to disturb anybody.

She scanned the group and suddenly saw the familiar figure she had been so desperate to find these past weeks. You were standing there in your civil clothes and cup in your hand. Your bright smile could be seen from every spot of the room, smiling at your friends as you were talking about something, sipping on your drink.

„Tell me I´m not crazy.“ Tara´s eyes kept looking at you as if she was afraid you would disappear again. Her chest kept rising and falling at a fast speed.

„No Tara, you´re definitely not.“ Mindy may only see you from a photo but this was definitely you. You looked far better in a person than in a photo, she must tell.

The young Carpenter turned to Mindy with wide eyes and eyebrows raised. „Oh my God! Oh my God! What do I do?!“ she quickly looked at her clothes if they looked fine. „Do I look good? I don´t have anything between my teeth?“ she smiled widely showing her teeth Mindy to check.

„Stop Tara! Calm down.“ Mindy took her shoulders to make her look at her. „Okay okay stop right now. No, you don´t have anything between your teeth. You´re fine.“

Deep and slow breaths were the next thing she needed to do or she would have another attack and that would be pretty embarrassing. It was just you. Yeah, just the cute doctor who took care of her at the hospital. Yes, only you, as if you were someone special-

Of course, you were special! To her! She wanted to impress you so badly. The girl was always thinking about the ways she would meet you again, what would she say to you, what would she be wearing, and how she would impress you... She looked like a garbage at the moment.

Today Tara didn´t give a fuck about what would her clothes be or how she would style her hair. She just wanted to have a little fun from studying and enjoy the night with her friends.

She looked at your way one more time and your eyes met. You squint your eyes at the girl as if you were trying to remember something. She quickly turned her head to Mindy, a scared look swimming in her eyes.

„Mindy. She saw me.“

„And now she´s making her way here.“

„No, that can´t be real.“

„Oh yes, it is.“

„No no no no.“ Tara shook her head to left and right trying to put herself together. She wasn´t ready to face you. This is not how she imagined your second meeting.

„Hi.“ Mindy looked at you and greeted you back. She took Tara again by her shoulders and turned her to you.

„Hi.“ The short girl said as she was now looking at your pretty eyes. You were smiling at her like you were the first time you saw each other.

„I´m sorry I didn´t wanna disturb but... I think I know you.“ You now lowered your eyebrows a bit and kept scanning Tara´s face.

What? Do you know her? Oh my God, you remember! The girl´s heart started beating in her chest as she now realized that. You wouldn´t remember if she didn´t catch your attention, right? Right?!

„Uhm... I-“

„Oh! I know! You were in a hospital! I knew you were familiar.“ You smiled widely at her, you looked happy that you could remember after all a lot of people came through your hands every day.

Tara breathed out as she looked down. „Yeah,“ she laughed „you got me.“

„Oh, you okay now? You had any complications after?“ You kept asking her as you scanned her face and body, not in a disgusting way. But let´s be honest, Tara wouldn´t mind that either.

The shorter girl smiled softly, playing with her hands as she was softly swaying her body to the sides like a small child. „No no, everything has been fine since then.“ She smiled shyly at you. „Thanks again.“. You just shook your head like she had nothing to thank for. You were just too sweet.

Mindy offered you and your group to be with them and after the introduction, some went to drink more in the kitchen or went to the dance floor. The three of you along with some of your friends were sitting on a couch in a living room with drinks in your hands, talking and laughing at others' dancing skills.

You were so friendly and your friends too, Tara was looking at you the whole time, listening carefully every time you started speaking so none of the words could slip her. The Carpenter didn´t even notice how much alcohol she drank, guess it was because of the stress from your presence but as soon as she stood up, she could feel everything.

Oh no. Her mind was now spinning, „I´m going to the toilet.“ Mindy offered to go with her as she saw her friend's face. She was drunk.

„Oh my God, Mindy.“ These were the first words that left her mouth as she saw herself in a mirror. Her eyes were down and her face was all sweaty from the hot room and alcohol. Tara touched her cheek at the state and turned around to her friend. „I can´t go back looking like this.“ Her mind was spinning and she barely could control her legs. „I´m so fucked up.“

Mindy was behind her smirking, leaning against the bathroom door, clearly dunk as well. „Tomorrow morning will be fun.“ She laughed to herself, eyes closed from the sharp light of the bathroom.

„Hey! Are you even listening to me?“ Tara went to her but stumbled a little. Mindy laughed at her clumsy friend. She wasn´t as drunk as Tara, she could still walk normally. The only thing she was more giggling than usual.

„Come on, it´s fine. Or do you wanna leave Y/N?“ Mindy asked Tara. „Did you forget about how you were these couple of weeks?“.

Right. She can´t do that. She needs to get your number, at least that. They went to the group again but with each step they took the alcohol in their system could be felt more and more. Tara was now so drunk that she laughed at everything she saw. The girl sat beside you again but this time a little more closer than she was before, you turned to her and smiled at her. She giggled at you as she tilted her head a little.

You could see her cheeks were red and her eyes had fallen a little. Every time she was speaking her voice was really loud and her hands were everywhere around the place, even almost smacked you but you were quick to dodge it. Yep, she was drunk.

Tara´s mobile kept vibrating a couple of times but she only ignored that. It was Sam, she was worried about her because they agreed that Tara would inform her every now and then that everything was fine. The first time you caught the notification you wanted to warn Tara about it but then you saw it.

On her wallpaper was your photo from the hospital, the one with all of your colleagues. The photo was zoomed on your smiling figure, it was so cute you wanted to laugh but you couldn´t. You didn´t want to embarrass her so you played like you didn´t see that.

„So...“ Tara hiccuped as she leaned her hand on the back of the couch behind your head. You raised your eyebrows at her as you were trying to hide the smile from how drunk and cute at the same time she was. „How old are you?“ she kept looking into your eyes as if she was trying to seduce you but was cut by a hiccup again.

Laughing at her now you answered her question. „How old do I look?“

„I don´t know, you look really young to be a doctor. You are a doctor? Or you are a student? How old are you?“ Tara squints her eyes at you. You let out a laugh as you threw your head back at her words, closing your eyes in the process.

Tara was drunk smiling at you, showing her dimples. She didn´t know why you were laughing but it was because of her so she didn´t mind. In her head it meant victory. You wiped your unexisting tears and shook your head. „You are so drunk.“

„No, I´m not! Look I can drink more!“ she went to grab a cup that was on the table in front of the couch but you were quick to take it from her hand.

„Absolutely not, you had too much already.“ Tara wanted to argue with you about it but her thoughts were cut by your touch.

„You have really pretty hands. They are much bigger than mine, look!“ she compared your hands and yes, hers were really small.

„And your fingers are so long... I wonder how it would feel inside of-“

Mindy covered her friend's mouth from beside her. She kept listening to your conversation the whole time, making sure Tara wouldn´t say or do something she would be embarrassed about the next day. Something like this.

„Okay, I think we should head home.“ Mindy wanted to pull Tara on her legs but she didn´t want to stand up and leave you. She kept pouting as she sat a little more closer to you almost sitting at your tights.

„Come on, I will go with you.“ You stood up and gently took her hands to help her on her legs. She smiled like a kid and immediately did what you wanted her to do.

You and Mindy were taking Tara to her home. Sam was now calling Mindy asking about her sister. She had the right to be mad, she let her go to a party under the condition of her texting her if she was alright.

As you were close to the apartment door Mindy left you two so you could be alone. Tara won´t remember it but Mindy for sure will and she will make sure her friend will pay back for this.

„We are already here.“ Tara whined and turned around to look at you as you now stood in front of her door. „I don´t wanna leave you, I wanna be with you.“ The girl hugged your neck as she put her head on your chest to stare into your eyes.

You laughed at her. „Don´t worry, I´m sure we will see each other again.“

„Do you wanna come inside?“ she smirked and dragged her finger around your shoulder, tilting her head to the side softly. The young Carpenter had clearly enough for today.

„You know I can´t Tara.“ You breathe out with a kind smile on your lips.

„I love it when you call my name, it sounds so different, and also your smile and your eyes and-“

The door from her home suddenly opened and there stood Sam. The three of you kept looking at each other shocked written on your faces, waiting till someone made the first move.

„Uhm... hey I´m Y/N, I don´t know if you remember me.“ You smiled kindly at Tara´s sister. She kept studying you a little, then it hit her. Yeah, you were the one from the hospital. You helped Tara and that was all she needed to know.

„Yeah, I remember.“ She then looked at her sister, slowly shaking her head. Tara´s arms were still around you, not caring that her sister could see everything. „Come on Tara.“

The short girl let out a whine not wanting to let you go. She tightened her grip on you and was now looking at you to save her from her angry sister. „You need to let go of me.“ Your voice was so soft, it was only convincing her to stay but your words said otherwise and she needed to listen to you.

Slowly pulling away from and with a point on her lips, eyes big as if you were saying that you will never see her again. You didn´t even leave and she missed you already. The girl just wanted to stay with you.

„Will I see you again?“ Tara asked as she was almost at her apartment looking for your answer. You nodded your head at her, shooting her one of your smiles with a wink.

„Okay... Goodnight.“ She said with a low voice, putting her head down and leaving you in a hallway. Sam turned to you and gave you a tight-lipped smile.

„Thanks for bringing her here.“

„It´s fine, she´s amazing.“ You looked from the way she disappeared to Sam. „I guess I will head home also. Goodnight.“ You waved at her and started to walk away.

The next morning couldn´t be worse. Tara woke up with a terrible headache and the urge to throw up, Sam was giving her silent treatment, Mindy kept teasing her about yesterday and she had no way of contacting you. Like she would do that, the girl was so embarrassed that she just wanted to bury herself deep into the ground.

Afternoon Mindy and Chad came, and they kept making fun of Tara and her flirting skills. Suddenly her phone rang signaling a new message.

Y/N:) :Heyy, hope you feel better

What? How did you get her number? It was really you?

„Mindy? How did you get Y/N´s contact into my phone?“ Her friend looked at her with a confused face. „Did you give her my number?“ Mindy shook her head, still looking muddled.

„Maybe she did it herself.“ She shrugged her shoulders. „At least you have her number finally!“

Yeah, at least something but when did you make it? Oh yeah, she probably left her phone on the couch when she went to the bathroom. But if you got your phone number into her phone that must mean...

„Oh God... please no.“ She put her head into her hands, covering her red face from embarrassment.

You saw that fucking wallpaper.

Taglist: @jensortega813 @isawxxp 🤍

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slvt4lanadelrey · 11 months

Text

Looking for the pretty firefighter | Tara Carpenter

Part One | Pretty Firefighter

Warnings: swearing, jealous Tara, mention of sex

Part one | The pretty firefighter

Part Three

Tara groaned, her head leaning into her open palm. She was sat in her lecture, English literature was extremely boring, especially when her mind was far too consumed with the memory of you.

It had been a few days since she met you, since she kissed you, since she was cursed with the plagueful memories of your laughter.

"Miss Carpenter, am I boring you?" The older man asked, slapping his hand onto her desk. The man was short, almost as short as Tara. He had thinning hair, the only remaining hair on his chin.

"Uh. No sir, I was just- just thinking about Romeo and Juliette." Tara lied through her teeth, smiling sweetly at the man. His face was scrunched in a scowl, his face softened at the confession.

"Oh. What's your views on the love story, dear?" He asked, returning back to the front of the class. Tara sighed, knowing full well she didn't have an option on the 'love' story.

"I just don't think it'd an actual love story. I mean, it's hard- maybe even impossible to fall in love with someone in only a few days, also Juliette was only a kid, isn't that legally and mortally wrong?" The class roared with their own opinions, debating whether Tara's views were right or wrong. The teacher was happy to engage with such a passionate topic, thanking Tara before she left.

Tara walked through the dining hall, Mindy's shoulder nudging into hers.

"You know that party we went to?" Mindy started, her face full of an unknown feeling. She clenched her fingers around her backpack strings, swaying on her feet.

"Well, that girl I hooked up with Anika. She's in my eco class, she gave me her number." Mindy's eyes flashed, practically jumping on her feet.

"Wait. That pretty firefighter is Anika's-" Tara didn't get the chance to finish, Mindy pushed her finger onto her lips.

"I already asked Anika, she said that the girl you hooked up with wants you to find her, something like that" Tara was left with a gap in her mouth, she stared wide eyes at Mindy.

"Seriously? I can't even remember her name!" Tara whined, sliding into the open chair next to Chad.

"Dont be sad, Tara. Her names Y/N." Chad chirped in, plopping the final spoon of yogurt into his mouth. Mindy giggled at how Tara's face lit up, exitment already laced within her features.

"Do you know her number too?" Tara asked with hope, she bit her bottom lip. Chad glanced at Mindy who shook her hair immediately.

"Sorry, Tara, Mindy has spoken." Chad was a little scared of Mindy so he was very much quick to stop talking the second Mindy asked.

"I cant believe you guys, I'm literally in love and you won't even give me her number." The whole group stopped, staring through the notes from their previous lesson. Tara blinked, then laughed awkwardly.

"I'm not in love with her. I just want to kiss her again." Tara mumbled through a breathless sigh, her eyes dropped to the floor.

"Fine.-" mindy slapped her hands together, standing infront of Tara. Mindy pressed her hands onto Tara's shoulders; shaking them slightly before leaning forward.

"Y/N has Art right now, In room 206." Mindy blinked.

Tara was already gone, her backpack tightly tugged over her shoulder, sprinting through the halls.

Her hand tugged open the door to the room Mindy told her you was currently in. To her great horror, the room was in full silence; nothing but the faint sound of paint brushing Into canvases.

"Hello?" The women asked, slamming her hand into her desk. The older ginger women with thick glasses stared at Tara with flaming eyes, glaring through her annoyance.

"Y/N needs to come with me right away, it's an emergency." You looked up at the sudden call out of your name, hair brushed into your face when your head whipped to the side. Tara was standing like a deer at headlights, eyes wide with agap mouth.

You chuckled, knowing Tara had just ran to you; literally.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Leah, I think I need to go." Your bag slugged over your shoulder, brushing through your classmates and leaving the room with a small click of the door.

"Hey, Tara." You smiled at her, acting like the two of you weren't strangers. Tara sighed, revelling at the sound of your sweet and soft voice.

"Your number." Tara all but begged, her hand holding out. She knew you wanted to know her too, so she wasn't about to waste her time beating around the bush.

"How romantic of you-" your snarky reply didn't go over Tara's head, she bit her lip before speaking again.

"Y/N. My heart has been gaping, seeping in pure agony each moment I have spent with the lack of your presence. I honesly think if I don't have the ability to get to know you better, to understand you on a more intimate level I don't think my heart will be able to take the pain, the torturous thoughts that riddle my mind whenever you are not near."

You sighed, writing down on your piece of paper. You wrote down your number, handing it to Tara with a tight smile.

"There, miss Romantic. My favourite flower's are dahlias, and I don't like chocolate." You kissed her cheek, giggling before taking off.

"Im taking you out tonight!" Tara shouted through the empty halls, smiling when your body stopped. You turned on your heel, staring at her with a daring smirk.

"I already have a date. Surprising how quick people act when they actually want to see you." Tara's mouth dropped, a snarl leaving her lips the second your body left her eyeshot.

She hit the near by wall, cursing the way you swayed your hips.

You knew damn well that Tara wanted to find you. The day after your hook-up, Tara had asked everyone in all her lessons if they knew you. Most of them didn't, the odd couple did but didn't say anything to the pleading brunette. You and Anika watched with amusement at how much trouble Tara brought, all in order to find you.

"Did you just punch a wall?" Mindy asked from behind Tara, watching with a worried face at how Tara was in such a sour mood suddenly.

"Fuck off."

#jenna ortega #jennaortega #lgbt #tara carpenter #wlw #vada cavell #lorraine day #Wednesday addams #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem #jenna ortega x fem!reader

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sorrowedpickle · 8 months

Text

Of the fittest

Wednesday Addams x g!p!reader

A/N: I was eating ham while making this

Warning: g!p, p in v, ooc!wednesday, bottom to top reader, top to bottom Wednesday

The clicking sounds of her type writer were the only things you could hear besides your heartbeat in your ears, your breath catching in your throat at every little movement one of you would do due to your sensitivity.

Your breathing shallow as you stare at the back of your girlfriend, it was slightly hunched over but straight up as her fingers moved elegantly across her type writer you gave up on focusing on long ago.

How could you focus with her pussy wrapped around your cock like something perfectly molded just for you, she had made sure it would fit her perfectly. Many times she had took her time to make sure you fit just right and were able to slip in with no worries.

Your hips buck up toward her, desperate to be deeper only to feel her quickly pinch your thigh with her well manicured nails. It was a sharp pain, though not too painful to the point it had you wanting to pull away.

“Hold still,” Wednesday snaps, her type writer sounds pausing and her sharp glare looking back down at you. You whine softly, grip on her hips tightening before shifting to get a little more comfortable.

Her walls warm around your shaft as she returns to writing, purposely squeezing herself around you as a way to torture you while she casually went back to doing what she was.

It was somewhat of a punishment for bothering her all day with your neediness, wanting her to bring you away from prying eyes and fuck you until you saw stars. She had made you wait all day and now she was going to make you wait a little longer while you were inside of her.

She had told you to wait an hour. Just an hour and you could do what you wanted, even then you knew you’d have to go at her pace but you didn’t care as long as you got some kind of release.

But it was starting to get hard, the way she had been moving around and squeezing her pussy to tease you for what felt like a lifetime was really getting to you as your hands as her tightly, most likely creating dark shapes onto her pale skin in the process but she didn’t seem to mind.

Your head throws itself back against the railing of her chair, groaning quietly as she continued to work on her novel while you dick was oh so casually buried deep inside of her. It was both intoxicated how she’d ignore your pleas while also frustrated when she’d force you to stay still and get mad when you wouldn’t.

Wednesday herself was regretting her decision of having you inside of her while she worked. It was meant to be a punishment for you but it seemed to tables were turning onto her as your cock twitched inside of her with your occasional bucking of your hips.

“Weds,” you whine, trying to pull her further onto your hard cock. “Please.” Your whine gets a little louder when you see she doesn’t react and you seem to get even more desperate as you shift.

She ignores that as well, knowing you just wanted the attention she refused to give you. “Wednesday, please, just fuck me already.” You whine even louder, as you stare down at the skirt that covers your view of her ass.

She ignores your plea and making you whine even more as you pull her further up onto your lap and pulling her down more forcing the cock into an angle that was deeper and had her seeing stars, she flinches slightly and her typing stops as she holds back a moan, gripping the edge of the table.

She quickly recovers and her head snaps back to look at you, a glare on her face as her eyes lock onto your desperate ones.

It was a warning, that much you knew but you didn’t care. She had been torturing you for half an hour and you couldn’t take it much longer.

Your hand reaches up and you grab her shoulder tightly, making sure she can’t resist as you quickly stand up. The sound of the chair hits the floor with a clattering noise as you push Wednesday into the table, shoving your cock further into her throbbing pussy.

Her body tenses and she claws at the table, eyes wide as she stares forward while her pussy squeezed tightly around you. You breathing was rigid as your front presses up against her back, hand keeping her waist pressed up against yours.

She shivers slightly at feeling your hot breath against her flushed ear. You were going to regret this later, she’d make sure of it. But first, she wanted you to finish what you had started.

You sit up slightly, hand pressing into the small of her back to keep her pressed into the table while your other hand gripped her hip tighter, pulling her closer to your pelvis if it were even possible.

“Fuck,” you whisper, voice shaky as your hips start to move. You start soft, allowing her to adjust to the feeling before taking it up a notch when the sound of her breathing increased as well.

You’d pull out to the point she thought you’d actually leave before slamming back into her making her gasp quietly, hands gripping her table tighter as small breaths leave her at your continued actions.

She felt so good, especially after being inside of her for so long and not being able to move at all. It shocked you, really, you thought it couldn’t get any better after getting used to the feeling of her. But no, every movement gave you a new feeling that shot through your body like electric bolts.

It was tantalizing, addicting even and you wondered why you hadn’t thought about what it’d feel like when you first met her. You couldn’t get enough.

Your head is down, pressed against her shoulder blades with your mouth agape with your hands roaming under her shirt to feel the warm skin buried underneath, hands playing with the hem of her bra before a sound you had never expected to leave Wednesday leaves her.

A whimper. The sound quiet and barely noticeable but you noticed it. Before you could even process it more leave her, nails digging into the wood as her ass pushes back against you for more.

And more you give her, pushing her further up onto the table only to have things knock all over the place while she pushes her type writer to the side with a kind of strength you or herself didn’t know she had to be able to push the heavy thing.

It’s not questioned though, you were too busy fucking yourself into her to really care at the moment as you scratched down her back under her checked shirt with face buried deep into the fabric as you listened to her soft noises.

You didn’t want it to end. The feeling of her wet pussy gushing against your cock, the sounds leaving her mouth getting slightly louder the rougher you get, the sight of her back arching under you or her hair starting to get a little frizzy as you fuck into her. It took everything in you not to cum instantly, not so quickly anyway.

You wanted to savor it all, keep it in your memory for later when you weren’t together or just to have there for when you were bored in class. You just wanted it.

And that you would do, having her fuck back against you with the same amount of neediness as you as you bit down onto her clothes shoulder to muffle your moans as her pussy engulfed you.

Her sounds got louder, whimpers and soft moans making you shudder and the feeling in your belly starts to grow bigger as your teeth bite down harder onto her, wanting more noises of pleasure to leave her.

Her legs begin to shake, forcing you keep her up by hips while one hand reached down and began rubbing her clit in fluid motions that had her body jolting as a loud moan left and her grip on the table tightened.

The feeling of her cumming onto your cock was insatiable. Her warm velvet walls getting even more warmer around you as your thrusting became more sloppy while you moaned loudly into her shirt, face burying itself deeper into her as you finally came into her, hot liquids filling her up as your hips twitched slightly.

Both of your breathing was heavy as you laid there against the table, your body pressed firmly against her as your cock stays buried deep inside of her. Not exactly caring about the sensitivity but wanted to keep the warmth of her around you there for a bit longer before pulling out into the cold and dark world.

You wanted to stay like that for a bit, out of it. One, because you were out of it and needed a moment to collect yourself and two, because you knew you were in for one hell of a punishment after. So, it was best to enjoy the feeling and moment while it lasted before being denied and in pain for the rest of the night.

—

Tagslist: @bluetreecloud20 @skate-to-breathee @wol-fica @raven-ss @restlessdot @dumb-fvck104 @tabberthecat @crazyoffher @rhythm-catsandwine @makncheese12 @alexkolax @jennasfav @melthedwarf @jennasslut @t-wylia @unknownuserzdjdh @pnsteblnme @eevelyn @icimm @ang311 @simplykermit @inyourunderweardrawer @estors @gayfrg @inkinugget @alastorgrimm @mar-romanova @ssinfulprayers @hellenheaven @teenagedramaqueenlisa @btrizi @idkwimdtbh @furry-monster-trash @beeswaxwings @je-tts @mokotodenis123 @ajortga @jensortega813

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #x reader #x fem!reader #tara carpenter x reader #lorraine day x reader #tara carpenter #vada cavell x reader #wednesday series #pickle

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shdysders · 4 months

Text

the bet

pairing: vada cavell x female reader

summary: in which vada makes a bet, and unfortunately you're the victim to it.

word count: 4.8k

warnings: cursing, hints of alcoholism.

author’s note: hope you like! also if y’all feel like following an editing account on tiktok, mine is sdesnk!

Making bets are something everyone did as kids, whether it was about money, candy or chores. Everyone did it.

Vada grew up constantly making bets with her younger sister, which were pretty easy to win since Amelia would accept pretty bad ones without properly thinking them through.

Vada actually thought she was one of the best gamblers amongst everybody she knew. Until she met Nick. In her eyes he was a literal goddess at making bets, but also at winning them. He always came up with the craziest ones, things that Vada couldn't think of even if she tried.

Their friendship was filled with bets, they pushed each other to the limits, coming up with even more daring challenges and scenarios, putting their skills to the test.

Their parents hoped and prayed that they would grow out of it, thinking that all kids did eventually. But unfortunately, that wasn't the case for Vada and Nick, they kept going even though they had passed the inappropriate age for it.

Not even starting high school stopped them. It was their 'friendship language' as they called it.

"I bet you twenty dollars you won't tell the lunch lady this tastes like fucking shit." Nick spoke, playing around the food with a fork, a grossed out expression on his face.

Vada immediately shook her head, laughing. "Absolutely not!" She could never agree to bets where it involved being rude to someones face, let alone rude to someone in general, she had a filter, unlike Nick; who didn't care if he was hurting someone or not.

Nick smirked, now curiously looking around the cafeteria. A look on his face that only Vada could understand, he was looking for something to make a bet on.

"Okay fine, I bet you fifty dollars.." He started, the big amount of money immediately capturing Vadas attention. "That you won't ask out little Y/n right there."

Nick pointed behind Vada with his fork, an evil smirk placed on his face. She slowly turned to see where his plastic cutlery was pointing. And there you were, sitting all alone at the table a few feet away from them, headphones placed on your head. She could feel her eyes softened as she watched you. Your curious eyes scanning through the pages of the book you were reading.

There was nothing wrong with what you were doing, but in high school, people that sit alone are weird. Vada knew that's why Nick chose you out of all people he could've picked.

People around school used to talk about you, how you were too quiet for your own good, how nobody had heard you speak ever since you were asked to introduce yourself the first day of school, or how some people had forgot you were in their class.

Vada didn't understand quiet people. Growing up, loud was the first word people used to describe her. Her mouth always seemed to be this ocean of words that never seemed to run out. She had never experienced being anything else than talkative, so she would never be able to understand how people didn't like to talk.

She bit her lip as she watched you, actually considering taking the bet. Nick saw her hesitating, "You don't have to stay with her forever, just for like a week or two."

Vada thought hard. She did have to step up her game, Nick had done everything. Every single bet she gave him, and she was starting to grow poor because of it. He had done everything from telling Amelia her outfit looked horrendous, to telling Mrs Cavell that the dinner tasted like vomit.

It was only a week right? Couldn't hurt.

Vada turned back to Nick with a smirk on her face, taking out her hand for him to shake.

"Bet."

***

Vadas stomach was filled with nerves the next day, but she couldn't figure out why; it was just a bet, nothing of it was real feelings, and she had to do it, she couldn't risk loosing fifty bucks.

Nick had been teasing her since first period, telling her what a cute couple you guys would be. Which was making Vada feel uncertain, if she should do it or not.

When the time arrived at lunch Nick had already ran off to his 'second option friends' as he called them, leaving Vada all alone to approach you. You sat alone again; to no surprise, Nick had told her that you always did.

With no hesitation in her bones, she walked up to your table, standing in front of you; waiting for you to look up. And eventually you did, your eyes filled with curiosity scanned her figure, making Vada shift her weight from one leg to another, almost feeling judged.

"Do you want me to move? I can go to another table." You spoke rapidly, making Vadas gaze soften, did people really only walk up to you to say that they wanted your table?

Vada shook her head, hesitating before sitting down in front of you. "I'm here to talk to you."

You watched her carefully, as if what she was about so say would be something rude or humiliating.

You had history class with Vada, so you knew she was a very talkative individual, that's why you were so surprised when it looked like she didn't know what to say.

"I just..I–.. I've liked you for quite some time now, and I wanted to...ask you out." She spoke, stuttering and pausing way too much. "On a date." Vada ended, looking up at your shocked face.

Your mouth almost hung open, there was no way this was true. Vada Cavell asking you out on a date?

You couldn't believe it. A part of you was telling yourself that it was probably just a joke, that she was doing this for a laugh with her friends. But the other part of you couldn't help but let a smile creep up on your face.

You had always fancied the girl, but you didn't go anywhere with it since you were known for being too awkward around people, let alone somebody you liked. This could end in many ways, you knew that. Yet there was no hesitation in you when you answered the girl who was sitting in front of you.

"Yeah..Yeah sure." You nodded, "What are you thinking?"

Now that you asked that question, Vada didn't know what to answer. She hadn't thought this through at all. She had approached you without even giving a second thought to what she was about to do.

Vada had half a mind to just walk away and give Nick the fifty bucks. But looking into your eyes; that was filled with expectations and surprise, she decided to give in.

***

"How did it go?" Nick eagerly asked as the pair walked into the school building.

Vada rolled her eyes almost immediately as the question left the boy's mouth. "Fine." She answered simply while trying to flicker the lock to the right code for her locker.

Nick sighed, muttering something Vada couldn't make out. "I need to know details! Don't give me the cold shoulder, it's not my fault you accepted the bet." He ranted, faint frustration lacing his voice.

A sigh escaped from Vada's lips. "It went fine. She's actually really nice."

That was true. You were in fact really nice. You weren't much of a talker, that's why Vada held most of the conversations, which wasn't hard. You were a great listener, Vada went on and on about stuff you probably didn't care about for one bit, but Vada still felt like she was being heard.

Nick let out a snort at that, making Vada shoot him a glare. "Yeah? Because she was quiet the whole time?"

When Vada didn't answer, instead beginning to pick out books from her locker, Nick quietly apologized, realized he might've overstepped. But when she closed it and began walking to class, he caught up and continued.

"Soo.. did you kiss her yet?"

That made Vada spurt to a halt, her shoes making a squeak sound on the tile floor.

"What?" She looked up at him, confusion painted all over her face. "That was not a part of the bet."

Nick just smiled dumbfounded at her. "I know." He started walking again, happy to have brought at least some form of reaction out of the girl. "But I might add another fifty bucks if you do."

Vada walked rapidly to try and keep up with him. Kiss you? Why would she ever do that. Besides, he couldn't just change up the bet after it had already been made. That made no sense.

Although Vada knew that just a few hours back you and her were seconds away from locking lips, the interruption being Mrs Cavell bursting through the door unexpectedly. Which of course made you and Vada jump away from each other.

She didn't know why she thought it would be a good idea to kiss you. It was just in the moment. She didn't like you like that, she just thought there was a bigger chance for you to believe the whole 'feelings' thing if she did.

The date had begun with a dinner at some cheap, yet pretty decent restaurant, later on Vada took you back to her house thinking nobody else would be home; unfortunately she was wrong, but you didn't care. You had given Vada a bunch of compliments about how heartwarming and kind her family seemed, but Vada had just brushed it off.

"Yeah? And how would you know if I kissed her or not?" Vada questioned, her attention shifted towards the present moment.

Nick shrugged, "I don't know, set up a camera or something."

The statement made Vada grimace, but she didn't get enough time to answer him since he had already disappeared into his classroom, leaving Vada alone in the hall. Along with all the other students rushing around, trying to make it to their classes.

Lots of voices could be heard, every single one of them blending into each other so the words were all inaudible. Vada didn't give it any thoughts until she heard her voice being called.

She couldn't hear who it was over all the other voices, but when she turned around and saw that the person calling for her was you, she felt a small smile arriving at her lips.

"Y/n! Hi." Vada smiled at you, eyes flickering to your hands, who seemed to be fiddling with each other.

"So I was wondering.." Your soft voice spoke, "I really enjoyed our date last night, and I was wondering if you'd like to do it again?" You struggled to hold eye contact with her, eyes darting between the floor and Vada's eyes.

Vada bit her lip, thinking hardly. She was starting to feel bad. Did you actually think that the date was a serious thing? Did you actually think that she liked you?

She noticed that the small smile on your face was wiped off quickly, precisely because Vada didn't answer straight away, like you thought she would.

Vada opened her mouth to say that she was busy, but nothing came out. She felt bad. Your big doe eyes that were now filled of insecurity was staring into hers. She couldn't say no, not when you looked crushed at the fact that she hesitated at first.

You let out a sigh of relief when you received a nod from her. "Yeah, yeah absolutely." Vada tried to act as if she wasn't hesitating just seconds before.

"But we're going to your house this time right?" She asked before you had the opportunity to leave.

Now it was your turn to hesitate, but before you knew it your mouth had moved by itself, saying the exact opposite of what you were planning on. "Of course." You nodded.

"Tomorrow? We can walk there after school?" Vada questioned.

You tried to keep the confident look on your face, but it was hard. "Yeah.. Sure." You answered hesitantly.

Vada gave you a small nod and an awkward smile before turning on her heel, walking to class.

You silently cursed to yourself when she was out of your sight. Why didn't you just say no? There were thousands of other places you could've suggested.

You knew something like this would happen. You would either overshare something or say yes to something without thinking first.

You didn't have any friends, hadn't had for a long time either. So your social life wasn't very active, considering you barely talked to your parents at home.

When people don't have much social interaction, they might tend to overshare or be more talkative when meeting someone new, you were a great example of that. And you had learned that the hard way.

People left you all the time, hence to why you stopped making any kind of effort to engage with other people. Known as the reason for why people called you weird. But that's what high schoolers did, picked out people that weren't extroverted or social butterflies and recalled them as weird, starting all kinds of rumors in between.

You couldn't take her to your home. She would leave if she saw it.

***

'Tomorrow' felt sooner than expected.

By the time you walked out of your sixth and final period, when you saw Vada standing next to your locker; waiting for your classes to finish, you had already forgot the date you guys had planned. Being too busy the night before to clean up the mess your step father had made.

Vada looked as if she was debating something in her mind when you approached her, you obviously didn’t ask why, mainly because her expression quickly changed to a small smile when she saw you arriving.

You smiled back, feeling like this was your chance to change your destination to somewhere else. "Hey uhm, don't you think we should go somewhere else instead?" You started, watching as Vada furrowed her eyebrows.

"I just felt like my house won't be super 'romantic' or like..suitable for a date or whatever you want to call it." You rambled, feeling judged under Vada's expression.

Vada just chuckled when you finished talking. "I don't care if it's romantic at all." Because I don't like you the way you’re thinking, she wanted to continue. But of course she couldn't do that.

"We'll just a watch a movie on your laptop or something. You do have a computer right?" She checked.

You nodded unsurely. You weren't good at debating or arguing with people, so unfortunately you just gave in. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad? Maybe Vada would be different than all the other people.

The walk to your house went rather smoothly, Vada did the talking - as usual. This time you didn't ask any questions about what she was talking about, mainly because the nerves were getting to you, but also because you didn't listen to all of it; trying to figure out different scenarios on how it all might go down.

"Well. This is me." You spoke almost shakily, voice cracking with nerves. Vada didn't seem to notice, just inspecting the house from the outside.

Vada looked around for a moment, inspecting the other houses in the neighborhood. The house you were standing in front of looked rather neglected compared to the other ones. While every garden looked like it was taken care of neatly, yours looked like the grass hadn't been mowed for months.

The house was painted white on the brick walls, but tons of it had been peeled or flaked off; revealing the actual color of the stones.

Your gaze was set down to your shoes, not wanting to see Vada judging the shabby house.

"Are you sure you don't want to go somewhere else?" You bit your lip, asking the question while staring down at your feet on the asphalt. You could see Vada's head turn to you in the corner of your eyes, a small smile placed on her face.

Vada could see that you were ashamed, ashamed over the fact that your house probably looked like a junkyard compared to what she had expected.

A part of her wanted to agree with you and go somewhere else, but she also didn't want you to be ashamed. Hence to why she shook her head.

"I'm sure." She replied softly, mentally slapping herself before she took your hand in hers, clasping your fingers. She had to make everything believable.

An electric surge ran through your veins as your skin touched. A form of bravery entering your body, making you take a deep breath before pulling you behind her up the faint path towards the stairs.

When the door opened, a cloud of cigarette smoke exploded in your face, nothing you weren't used to, but Vada on the other hand tried to contain her coughs by swallowing thickly.

Loud shattering from the TV was echoing in the house, which made Vada immediately turn her head towards where the couch was placed.

She could only make out the 'big' man on the couch, dressed in a man beater shirt, beer bottles covering the whole coffee table in front of the piece of furniture.

You tried to walk carefully, hoping he wouldn't hear you over the loud volume on the television. But the creaking of the floor failed you as it made the man on the couch turn his head faintly, not entirely, so he couldn't see Vada; who had now carefully walked further away, basically hiding behind you.

"Is that you Y/n?" His dark and raspy voice almost yelled, making you flinch. His voice sounded as if he hadn't spoken to anyone for a week, having to clear his throat while speaking.

You nodded, but realizing he couldn't see you made you speak up. "Yes.. It's me and a friend." Your voice sounded confident, which surprised Vada, because you surely didn't look so confident.

The word 'friend' made the man turn around fully. His angry gaze scanning Vada's body, making her feel judged in less than a second, feeling herself shrink.

"Sluts like you has friends?" He asked, almost laughing while speaking.

Your expression didn't change much. Although Vada could see the sadness and fear that appeared in your eyes.

You just nodded as a response, not wanting to talk any further; afraid that your voice would fail you.

Vada didn't say anything, she figured that the man didn't want her to introduce herself at all, so she didn't.

When the man kept on chuckling to himself and had returned his attention to the TV, you took the chance to pull Vada in the direction to your room.

"Was that your dad?" Vada asked as you closed the door to your room, carefully looking around.

It looked just like she thought it would, if she had to guess based on your looks and personality.

You had a bookshelf that was filled with books of all kinds, novels, thrillers, romance, you name it, everything was there. Your walls were covered with photographs that looked like they were self taken. You had a few plants placed on different surfaces, even a guitar leaning against a corner of the rooms.

"Step dad." You corrected, putting your hands in the back pockets of your pants. Carefully watching her face expressions as she inspected your room.

"He's a drunk with a short temper.. So.. I'm sorry if he scared you." You carefully spoke, not wanting for Vada to feel scared.

Vada quickly shook her head, her eyes catching your laptop on your bedside table. "Now.." she grabbed the computer with one hand, looking up at you with a smile, trying her hardest to lighten the mood.

"Are we doing this or what?"

***

Vada had done it. She had kissed you. On the lips.

It wouldn't have been a problem when she knew it was just a bet. It would have been fine if she didn't feel butterflies in her stomach when your lips touched hers. Everything would've been fine if she didn’t develop feelings for you.

She didn't know how she was supposed to tell Nick. Obviously she didn't have to, but her ocean of words would eventually expose her when she least expected it.

She had been trying to give Nick hints about it for the whole day, but he just laughed it off; assuming it was jokes about how she felt. Which made Vada feel irritated, it’s not like it’s impossible to catch feelings.

Vada had never excepted to grow fond of a quiet person like you. But you just made it impossible.

You were the greatest listener Vada ever came across. Most of the times when she talked or rambles to Nick, her family or basically anyone, she felt ignored half of the time, like they never payed attention to what she was saying.

But you did. You listened all the time. She didn't have to repeat the things she said or ask if you were listening. You were always nodding when she spoke, always smiling at her, nodding when she needed confirmation.

You didn't have much space to talk, but when you did, Vada felt like she could listen to it for hours.

You were pretty. Every single one of your features was something that Vada admired. She couldn't help it.

She hadn't realized the feelings she had for you until she had kissed you. Which almost made her regret doing it in the first place.

Two days had passed after the kiss, and another date had been planned to happen. Vada laid on her bed, hair sprawling everywhere, phone in her hand directed to her face with Nick on the other line.

"You went to her house?" Nick spoke, sounding satisfied and confused at the same time. A huge grin was placed on his face, making Vada realize he was going to tease her about this too.

Vada just nodded, scrunching her nose in false disgust; trying to play along with the whole 'you're super weird' thing.

"What was it like? Was her parents all quiet as well?" He kept going, almost making Vada annoyed. Before, his snarky comments about the different kinds of preconceptions he had about people didn't seem to annoy Vada at all, in fact she used to add things to them.

But the prejudices he had about you and your family made her frustrated. It made her think of the sadness and fear in your eyes the whole time you were in your own house, the way your hands almost shook when you had walked her to the door.

"It was fine." She answered simply, not wanting to hear him bash you or your family any further.

Nick seemed to notice that since he didn't ask more about it. But he still had questions, like he always did. About everything.

"When are you going to tell her it's just a bet?" He smiled, clearly enjoying the 'torment' he thought he was putting his friend through.

Vada shifted in her laying position, sitting up. A frown on her face as she spoke. "I don't know yet."

And that was true. Vada had no idea when she was going to tell you. The feelings she realized existed didn't help either. How was she supposed to tell you that the dates were fake? That she didn't actually like you.

"There's only a few days left of the week." The boy continued, putting even more pressure on her. Vada didn't feel the need to answer. She knew well enough that the week was coming to an end.

"She's supposed to come over in a few minutes so I got to go." She said, hinting to the guy on the phone that she didn't want engage in a further conversation with him about the subject.

Nick just laughed; something he seemed to do every moment Vada said something about you.

"Alright bye love bird. Make sure to kiss her today then." Nick waved at the screen, a proud smile painting his face. "I mean, if you want those hundred bucks."

Vada almost blushed at the words. The thoughts of the night not too long ago when your lips met filling her mind.

She hung up before Nick got the chance to see the tint of red that was starting to appear on her face; knowing how much he'd tease her about it if he had seen it.

When Nick's voice could no longer be heard in the room, she dragged both her hands down her face, sighing deeply out of relief. But it was quickly filled with tension again as she turned to check the watch on her bedside table.

You should've been here already.

Her eyes widened as she thought of the worst thing possible.

What if her mom had opened the door and let you in? That would be the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to her. It was embarrassing enough that she had greeted you at the worst time possible the first time you came over; the first time you guys almost kissed.

Vada wasn't embarrassed of her mom, the opposite actually. But the problem was that Mrs Cavell always seemed to find the absolute worst moments to appear in. Always.

"Mom!" Vada shouted out, rapidly climbing out of her bed, almost stumbling on her own feet while landing.

"Mom, If someone knocks on the door it's for-" Vada began to yell again, opening the door to her room; that she had shut with force when Nick had called.

But she harshly interrupted herself when she saw who was standing in front of her.

You stood there. With a bouquet of roses in your left hand, your knuckles white from holding them for too long.

Your expression was unreadable, but Vada could see sadness in your eyes. And she couldn't figure out why. Then it hit her.

"H-how long have you been standing here?" She questioned, praying to all gods above that what she thought had happened, wasn't true.

"It was a bet?" Your voice sounded hollow, trails of shaking could also be heard. Your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

Vada began to panic. You had heard her. She didn't have a single clue on what she was going to answer. It was a bet before. But Vada was feeling like it wasn't now. That's why she had no idea what was about to come out of her mouth.

"No! I-I mean yes.. but no! It was but I'm starting to really feel like-" Vada rambled, her hands being all over the place as she spoke, trying to speak with her hands, but it didn't help since you interrupted her before she got the chance to finish.

"It's fine..Vada." You said softly. No anger in your voice at all. You shifted your weight from one leg to another before hesitantly moving the bouquet of roses towards the petite brunette, almost shoving it into her chest by the time it reached her figure, which resulted in her slowly taking them into her hands. She looked at the roses with a sad gaze, before she shifted her eyes up to you.

"I'm gonna go." You stated simply. Turning your body half way before making eye contact with Vada again. "I really liked you, Vada." You said, then you rapidly walked away down the hall.

"Y/n. I-" Vada tried, she wanted to chase after you, tell you about the whole situation. Even though the story she would tell you wouldn't be great either, she still wanted you to know how she felt; what she was about to say before you interrupted her with your soft voice that Vada adored. But nothing more came out. Her feet were glued to the floor, making her unable to move.

The last thing she heard was the door shutting. Making Vada grown loudly, cursing to herself at the fact that she allowed this to happen to begin with. She was the one that took this bet. It was all her fault. Maybe a little bit Nicks for making it, but still.

***

You didn't come to school the next day. As expected.

Nick had been asking Vada about the 'date' all throughout first and second period, not knowing that the date didn't happen, it didn't even get a chance to start before it was utterly and completely ruined.

She left the questions unanswered, not feeling the need to share the situation with him.

Vada also didn't feel like telling Nick she had kissed you. She didn't care if that meant she didn't get the added fifty bucks, she had gotten your trust instead of that. And then she ruined it.

She did get fifty bucks from Nick for 'completing the task' as he said it.

But she caused shattered a heart for it.

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