Tara Carpenter X You - Tumblr Posts
a snowy night
Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Summary: in which you had a fun idea for you and taras first anniversary (and christmas)
Words: 2.3k
Warnings: none
a/n: merry late christmas everyone!!!
masterlist.

Pulling your very sleepy girlfriend out of her bedrest wasn't ideal for a first anniversary, nor the first very early morning of Christmas.
"Y/n," Tara groaned, her body and pajamas getting dragged across the ground like she was a sack of vegetables, "Y/n, it's literally the middle of the night, what are you doing?"
Ignoring Tara's protests, you persisted in dragging her like a lifeless corpse you found on the snowy street of New York. "I know, I know, but trust me, you wanna see this!"
With some reluctance and a little bit of motivation from you, Tara mustered the energy to get up and finally walk with your hand guiding her.
"Okay, what's so important you had to drag me across our bedroom so early?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes, still half-asleep as she yawned. You could feel her eyes observing you as best as she could, eyeing the duffel bag you carried, "And why do you have a duffel bag on you like you're gonna flee the country?"
"And why would I ruin the surprise by telling you?" You grinned, pulling her by the sleeve, "Okay, before I let you in on this, close your eyes." You both stood by the doorway of the bedroom, Tara looking slightly unimpressed.
"Tara, can't you trust your girlfriend for like one second?" You asked, crossing your arms and raising your eyebrows.
"No?" She chuckled, crossing your arms alongside you, "not after you pulled that prank on me last Christmas."
"Okay, but you've gotta admit, trapping you in a life-sized gingerbread house was pretty funny and, a stroke of genius by yours truly."
Tara rolled her eyes, a fond smile tugging at the corners of her lips, "How'd you even do that anyway?"
"You know I always love the flair for the dramatic." You looked up at her, nothing but smile and love from your eyes.
"Which is why I love you." Tara whispered, her arms wrapping around your waist as she pulls you in closer.
You chuckled, she leaning into Taras hug. "And which is why you're going to love this! Come on, close your eyes," you let go of Tara's grip on you, taking her hands into yours and watching as she closed her eyes with her palm.
"I'm so breaking up with you if this is another prank," she remarked, playfully, of course, but who knows how likely that might become true?
"Oh don't say that, I won't be able to continue those anymore."
With Tara's eyes closed, you guided her into the living room, or maybe just a room with how you renovated it.
When you knew Tara was fast asleep, you had dashed over to the living room after taking your sweet time removing yourself from Taras koala-like cuddle from you and tore it down bit by bit.
Not really, but every piece of furniture scattered on the floor you relocated to the garage. The soft carpet that covered the tiles, was carefully stored in someplace else, revealing the smooth hardwood tiles underneath people could easily slide on.
You led Tara to the living room, her free hand intertwined with yours, the warmth of her palm this season never felt so comforting on yours.
"I knew you always wanted our anniversary to be unforgettable, ever since the day you told me on a warm winter night on top of the apartment building I used to live in, and I thought," you continued, pulling Taras hands down with your own, "what's more unforgettable than spontaneously pulling my girlfriend out of bed to go indoor skating with me in our home?"
Tara opened her eyes, only to see an impromptu ice rink in the middle of their living room. Fairy lights were adorning the corners, little Christmas trees scattered along the way, the floor was powdered to give it a little more boost to the slipperiness, and makeshift cardboard walls surrounded the area. It wasn't the biggest, considering it was only a living room, but it had everything that made Tara Carpenter happy. And that thought was enough for you when you designed this.
Her jaw dropped, and she looked at you with a mixture of disbelief and delight. "You did all this for our anniversary?" She questioned, excitement palpable in her voice.
You nodded, a proud grin on your face. "I wanted to make it special, something we'd remember." You giggled
Tara couldn't help but laugh, the joy bubbling up inside her. "You're fucking insane, you know that?" She pulled you in for a kiss, "but there's no denying that I love it."
You smiled, a lovesick one at that, before taking her hands again and leading her to the powdered floor. "Well, I figured if I couldn't take you to the ice rink in Central Park in the middle of the night, I'd bring the ice rink to us."
You put down the large duffle bag you had been carrying and opened it, pulling out two matching socks that kind of resembled the both of you, "And, as per ice rink tradition, we have skates! Or, socks, in this situation."
Tara chuckled at the sight of the matching socks, each knitted with a design you specifically asked for.
"A duffle bag for a pair of socks?" She laughed before taking the socks from you and slipping them on, "Only you would turn our living room into an ice rink and substitute skates with these."
"Well, I try my best," you replied with a playful wink, already putting on your own pair of socks. "Also, I still have many in store with this duffle bag."
You both stepped onto the powdered floor, the smoothness beneath made it super easy to glide and a comfortable feeling set between the two of you. Tara was wobbly at first when she first tried to slide across, but when your hand was with hers, she quickly found her balance.
"Tara, did you know your talented, smart, beautiful, girlfriend can do a triple axel?" you teased, letting go of Taras hold as you give yourself space from her.
She rolled her eyes playfully, "Oh please, as if you can even do a single one."
You smirked, feigning an offended look. "You deeply underestimate me, my love."
You took a few steps back until your body hit the cardboard walls. With little to no skating experience and the fact you've never trusted yourself once with your balance, you launched yourself. A bit too fast for your liking to the point you ended up doing not even a full rotation and crashed into Tara, "Fuck, oh shit Tara—!"
It was a decent attempt, you'd say so yourself since you didn't completely eat shit, but it gained a laugh from Tara who had been laughing her ass off ever since you landed on top of her.
"Okay, I'd give you points for your ambition and spirit." She chuckled one last time before pulling you and herself up.
"Thank you. Someone finally recognizes talent here."
"Is the talent the 'talent of crashing into your girlfriend?'" Tara teased, brushing off some of the imaginary dust from her clothes, but also the white powder that clung to her shirt.
You grabbed her hand and continued to skate, ignoring the heavy pain you had in your chest, "It's a skill only a select few possess, you know."
Tara rolled her eyes with an affectionate smile. "Then looks like I've got the most skilled girlfriend in the world."
The two of you continued to slide and glide all over the living room, talking about whatever and whenever. The both of you lost your balance here and there, and the both of you may or might not laughed before pulling the other one out of their misery on the cold powdered floor, but it was the most memorable moment of your life; you'd say.
Minutes turned into hours, and you and Tara continued until every single cardboard wall was down due to your attempts at doing probably one of the most difficult tricks in ice skating.
Exhausted but exhilarated, you and Tara found yourselves lying off the ice rink, taking off some steam and deep breaths.
You stood up, quite abruptly, and lent Tara a hand. "Mind coming with me?" You asked, eliciting a confused smile from Tara, but she took your hand anyway.
You helped Tara to her feet and led her outside the door, the cold breeze hitting the both of you like a truck. "Where are we going exactly?" She asked as you led her around the corner to where a ladder lies that goes up to the rooftop.
You quickly climbed up the ladder and turned back to Tara. "Come on, there's something else I want to show you," you say, as you reach for Tara's hand to pull her up.
To her surprise, there was a blanket laid on the rooftop, fairy lights being hung on poles you had taped to the ground, yet again, and cups of eggnog and hot chocolate waiting for you both. The city lights glittered in the distance, and the stars above shined brightly.
Honestly, Tara didn't know how she managed to have someone like you in her life.
"Y/n.. y/n, this is so— It's beautiful." She said, breathless, as she approached the picnic blanket with you in hand.
You smiled at Tara's genuine appreciation, happy that your surprise made her happy. "I'm glad you like it," you replied, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "Shall we sit, my love?"
Tara chuckled and sat down with you, never letting your hand go one bit. "The moon looks beautiful, even at this time."
You could've been looking at the moon, adoring its enchanting glow that reached the world, and the beauty of it all. But no, you were allured by another celestial being, something far more greater than anything that would exist in the cosmic universe, it was Tara.
"Yeah, it's quite beautiful."
The two of you sat in silence, gazing at the stars that slowly started to disappear as sunrise started to take over as you held hands together.
"I'm sorry." Tara broke the silence, her voice soft, "I should've planned something like this too for you, and for our anniversary. It's amazing, y/n."
You turned to Tara, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Tara, you being here with me is more than enough. I didn't plan this to receive anything in return; I just wanted to create a special moment for us and for you to have the best anniversary you can get from someone. And many more, of course." You reassured her, gently squeezing her hand, "Besides, being here with you is all I could ever ask for."
Tara leaned in and pressed a tender kiss against your cheek. "You're incredible, really. You know that?" she whispered, "you didn't have to do this."
"I had to, and I wanted to. You gave me so many happy moments in the short time we've been together, it's just a little something to pay you back."
Tara smiled as she wrapped your arms around yours, pulling you into a gentle embrace. "Thank you, y/n. I love you. Like, so much."
"Well, it's not over yet. There's one more thing," you said before unzipping the duffel bag you had brought and pulling out a box.
Tara raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "What is it?"
You turned to her, facing Tara with nothing but love.
"I want to make everything special and feel special for you, Tara. You're someone I couldn't bear to lose, and someone I didn't think I deserved, up until now. I want to tell you that I promise to do everything for you so that I'll deserve every piece of you in my heart." You vowed, opening up the box to reveal a promise ring. And, as if by cue, snowflakes were falling to the ground, and ones that ended up in Tara's hair. You never knew there was the absolute perfect time to gift the love of your life something special.
"Y/n—Y/n, this is too much, seriously." Taras heart swelled with love, her eyes widening and her smile reaching up to her ears, revealing the dimples you always loved.
"Never is it too much when I want to show my love to you, Tara. You only deserve the best, and only the best. So," you held your sentence as you lifted up Tara's hand and slid the promise ring onto her finger, "I bought this to tell you that I'm fully committed to you, body and soul, and promise I'll always cherish you no matter what. It's a reminder that you are deserving of all the happiness in the world."
Tara stared at the ring, content in her eyes as she looks up towards you. "Y/n, I don't know what to say. This is... it's perfect. Thank you."
You grinned, feeling a sense of contentment in making Tara feel special. "You don't have to say anything. Just know that you mean everything to me, and I'm grateful for every moment we share."
Tara chuckled, "For a moment, it felt like you were exchanging vows over there."
"Oh, my vows will be much more longer." You responded, a chuckle you gained from Tara.
"Well, speaking of vows," Tara began, her tone becoming more serious, "I want you to know that you have a special place in my heart since the day I met you. You've made every moment memorable that I didn't even know it was possible. Every mundane chore could never be the same now that I have you, y/n. God—I just, love you. Like so, so, so, much."
And with that, you leaned in for another kiss, embracing Tara and laying down with her as you both kissed. "I love you too, Tara."
The night, or maybe early morning, continued as you both laid down, seeing the sun take over the night sky as the moon was still visible.
You turned to Tara, "Do you think we could still sleep in?"
"I don't think people crossing the street on Christmas would like to see two people sleeping ontop of their rooftop."
"Baby, it's New York, people probably stumble into waaay worse things in their mornings."
Pulling your sleepy girlfriend out of her bedrest wasn't ideal for a first anniversary, nor the first very early morning of Christmas. But was it the best decision you've made? Definitely.
skill issues
Pairing: Tara Carpenter x G!p!Reader
Summary: in which you got reeled into a bandwagon of a fps game by mindy, anika, and chad.
Words: 2.6k
Warnings: smut. just pure smut.
a/n: i just love the idea of tara carpenter being a clingy partner (also my first time writing just a chapter full of smut.)
masterlist.

The clock ticked midnight. Probably even pass that. Actually, you didn't know anymore. Whatever was on your mind was completely erased and replaced by tiny pixels moving in your screen.
Ever since you've joined Tara's friend group, you've also been reeled into a bunch of activities they do on a daily basis. To binge watching scary movies you've begged them not to drag you in, to playing games they recommended to you.
You regret participating in the latter.
It's not like you were having fun, hell, you were having too much fun with this simple FPS mobile game they pulled you in, but the deep dark circles under your eyes were starting to show and you don't really eat anything except for the meals Tara cooks for you. Which are greatly appreciated by a kiss.
"Y/n, what the fuck!? I told you to cover me!" Mindy yelled over your headphones. Actually, it was Tara's headphones desperately lent over to you after days of quiet shouting that didn't really help.
You crouched in reply, knowing Mindy was spectating your character.
You killed, not one, not two, not even four people, but six at once in a group! 3 headshots and 3 body kills. You were pretty proud of yourself, honestly. You just started the game a few weeks ago and you're only getting better and better, you wanted to brag to Tara but she was fast asleep beside you. She was always beside you whenever you play those games with the group, cuddling you as you hold your phone up in the air, but she always ends up falling asleep when you do.
Chad laughs over his mic, "damn, we should've invited Y/n a long time ago. She's good at this game."
You laugh in response, bringing your voice to a whisper. "Even I didn't know I had this in me."
Ever since you and Tara finally made it official, you packed your things and said good riddance to your home and lived together with Tara. It was unexpected, even she was surprised by the spontaneous decision, but the two of you were happy in paradise. Not until you got dragged into the whole 'gaming with those two dipshits™ (by Tara Carpenter, of course.)'
"Anika—! Anika—Wait, shit Anika!" You scream, regrettably, while shooting the opposing team down. Obviously, the luck you had earlier had worn out and you were now staring down at your dead character, groaning.
"I didn't know they were there!" Anika apologized.
"Skill issue." Mindy chimed, you could tell she was leaning back in her chair, looking smug.
"Definitely." Chad blurted, a huff of air he let out.
You rolled your eyes. "Those who didn't carry the team with their 6-kill streak should actually shut up." You went back to the home screen after gg'ing the other team
"Another round?" You exclaimed, and the others cheerfully agreed in the background.
You forgot, for a split second, you were beside one of the most lightest sleepers in the world; your marvelous girlfriend Tara Carpenter. Someone could breathe in her vicinity and she'd almost immediately wake up. Which is why she's staring you down, burning holes in your neck, unimpressed look on her face.
"Y/n," she groaned, "I thought you'd be done by now."
You turned to look at her, and you could only hope it was the darkness fooling your eyes since Tara looked like she was about to scream if not for her reminding herself that you were her girlfriend.
You muted your mic, "One more round, I promise."
"You always say that." She whispered, her arms wrapping around your waist as you were sitting up and you almost melted in her arms, a sigh you let out.
You let your other hand let go of your phone and let your hand relax on her head, soothing her worries of you being on the verge of being one of those mentally unstable gamers who discarded their whole entire life.
Tara was still awake, you could tell by how she tilted her head slightly to look up at you and back to whatever game it is you were so engrossed in.
It was only a few seconds later before Mindy, Anika, and Chad were screaming into the mic and telling eachother to "defend, defend, defend!" or just curse at eachother.
And you, of course, was just resting in paradise while your girlfriend watches over you with half-lidded eyes. But you could tell she was trying to be awake.
You were getting into that headspace where your luck with getting kills increased, and damn were you so happy you could basically convince yourself you were the next top player at this game.
That was until you fumbled over a sniper shot, your finger slipping and your character dying. Your friends were yelling, laughing, but you couldn't focus. Not when Tara's hand was placed firmly on top of your cock.
You froze in place, your eyes, not focused on the screen anymore, but focused on somewhere in the darkness of your room. Her fingers tracing lazy circles around your clothed bulge, only getting larger the more she teases you.
You muted your mic, your hands clutching your phone as you suck in a moan. "Tara, wait, I'm—"
"—Playing?" She finished, looking up at you with her doe-eyes you knew you could never resist. "I'm sure you can play perfectly fine." She replied, her fingers sliding into the waistband of your shorts. You ultimately regretting, and thanking, that you weren't wearing anything underneath.
You were big, you haven't measured it yourself, but Tara worshipped it like it was (and is) so that was enough for confirmation. The tip of your cock was immediately leaking with pre-cum, and it didn't help when Tara kept stroking it, taking her time to graze her thumb along the head.
"Aren't you going to continue playing?" She looked at you, doe eyes and all as if she wasn't giving you the most perfect and maddening handjob you've ever received.
There was something in her voice, something that made you go fucking insane. And something that made you click that respawn button, playing it off as if nothing was happening down below.
You were desperately trying to get a kill, the amount of times you've pressed that damn respawn button was embarrassing. But how could you focus when the most prettiest girl was wrapping her warm lips around the tip of your dick, her hands taking care of the inches that wasn't in her mouth. Yet.
She removed her mouth away from your cock, a soft whine escaping your lips at the loss of contact, but then she adjusted her position. Her body going in between your thighs as she spreads them apart.
You almost, almost, went to heaven when she immediately reattached her soft lips to your dick and slowly started to go deeper.
It was almost pathetic how your hips bucked and your head was thrown back, your eyes rolling in pleasure.
And only a few seconds passed until she was bobbing her head up and down on your cock, her free hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Fuck, that turned you on even more.
You contemplated throwing the game, hell, even your phone, but Tara dug her perfectly manicured nails into your thighs when you were starting to put your phone down.
"Y/n, you're getting out of your game!"
"Noticed."
"I bet 20 bucks she's getting laid by Tara, right now."
The three of them, in order, Chad, Anika, and Mindy all teasing you for getting your dick sucked in the middle of the game. But you didn't care, at all. You didn't have enough trust in yourself to unmute and to deny all sayings, that were 100% true by the way, without having to hold back a moan.
"Fuck, Tara..." You manage to say in a whimper, your hand, which was supposed to be playing the game, was grabbing a handful of Tara's hair. Helping her take in what's left of you, and soon enough, her nose reached your chest, gagging a little bit in the process.
You were going crazy.
It was then you couldn't take it anymore. You grabbed her hair, a bit more forcefully, and started to shove yourself back and forth into her mouth. Your hips bucking and gradually getting speed. You could see how her eyes and jaw widened to take more of you. Spit and pre-cum dripping all over her mouth as she looked at you, tears staining her eyes while she closed them whenever she hit the base, gagging all over your cock.
You can feel your legs begin to shake, your head throwing back and your eyes rolling. But that didn't stop you from absolutely railing Tara's mouth against your dick until you've emptied yourself inside of her, forcing her to swallow all of your load.
A minute passed before you slowed down your movements, pulling an exhausted Tara out of your cock. She looked at you dumb, your own cum smeared all over her lips as a grin adorned her abused lips.
"I guess we can say I'm better than that stupid game you're always playing." She rasped, her voice hoarse.
"You did this because you were... jealous of me playing a game?" You chuckled, clearly out of breath. It was cute if you weren't so turned on by the fact Tara was looking at you like that.
She brought her hand up to her mouth, wiping away the excess cum with her thumb and licking it off. "I just wanted to tease you, baby."
You thought that was the end of it, not until Tara threw your phone and headphones away and started to climb on top of you, your still hardened cock right on top of her clit. You didn't even notice she wasn't wearing anything underneath as well until now.
"I'll get you a new one—" she breathed, "I promise. Just, please." She whimpered, god, fuck, you were going insane. "Just fuck me."
And that was everything you needed you hear.
You immediately flipped her around, "Y/n, what the FUCK!—" she screamed as you drilled your cock into her, your hips pulling out your dick and fully slamming it back into her pussy. A broken moan coming out of her lips.
"Shit... Tara, you're driving me crazy." Was all you could mutter before you went faster, your hands going to her hips to hold her steady, and your eyes were focused on your cock easily sliding in and out of her puffy folds, taking all of you at once while Tara could only moan, a new freshly coat of cum taking over your dick.
The way she squeezed around you, milking your cock for all it's worth, made you dizzy and your head start to spin. But that didn't stop you from completely destroying her bit by bit, aiming to break her down.
You pulled her closer to you, your hands going up to her shoulders and aggressively ramming her body against your shaft as if it wasn't so deep enough already. Tara couldn't say, mutter, or even speak a single sentence at this point.
You were fucking her dumb, and shit you loved it.
Your hands slithered up from her shoulders to her neck, lightly choking her before turning her head to you.
"You're so pretty like this, baby. So gorgeous and perfect." You muttered in her ear, every word coming to a hard thrust as Tara's mouth opened, attempting to say something but only coming out as a pathetic moan. "You wanna be fucked like a slut? Be fucked dumb out of your mind?"
Sliding your hands on her back, you pressed down firmly to create the perfect arch as her head was buried into the soft mattress, her hands curling up into a ball as she sobbed with pleasure. You can hear her moaning your name over and over again, screaming and sobbing muffled by the soft pillow under her.
"Answer me, Tara."
"Yes, please!" She pleaded, "God, oh my god." She gulped, her head falling back as she reached her second orgasm, her walls clamping down on your cock and cum dripping down from her abused and assaulted pussy.
Her legs gave up, but you didn't. You continued to ram into her, without a care that she was near peak exhaustion and her sobs were becoming more frequent. Your freehand that wasn't pressing down on her back going over to her clit, overstimulating her.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," you groaned, "Tara..."
"Cum'n me." She said, breathless, "please. Please, please, please, please—"
After that last plead, you came in her. Your body still thrusting into Tara as you lean towards her, "I love you. I love you so much, my favorite girl." You muttered, pressing kisses all over her cheeks and lips as she breathed for air. But that sweet moment didn't stop you from resuming to pound into her as if it was your last day on earth.
You kept your cock inside of her, pistoning it in and out as you stretched her pussy till it's limit. Until it recognized the shape of your dick, which, you succeeded. The both of you continued until Tara reached her actual peak of exhaustion and collapsed.
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When Tara woke up, she was sore. Sore as fuck. Everything up and down from her head to toe was just relentless pain everywhere. That is, until she turned her head to see you just gazing at her. Softly. As if you didn't ruin her to pieces just hours before.
"Hey," you greeted her, a smile gracing your lips. Tara didn't realize, but you drew her a bath the second she passed out and took care of her yourself. Even changed her to her favorite outfit whenever she just wanted to lay around.
Tara smiled. Despite her sore legs, her sore everything actually, she still managed to cling onto you like a koala. Her arms crushing you as you hugged her back. "Hey." She whispered in your ear, kissing you gently. "Thanks, by the way. For taking care of me." She hugged you even tighter, which you reciprocated.
The two of you sat there for a few minutes, basking in eachothers presence and warmthness. Until you broke the silence. "Tell me the real reason." You pulled back from Tara's tight hug. (You tried to, she was unbudging.)
"I was." She raised an eyebrow, which you also reciprocated.
You chuckled. "I've been your girlfriend and bestfriend for a total of 3 years, Tara. You can't fool me."
She could almost roll her eyes right now if she wouldn't regret it later. "We haven't had sex in a while." She confessed, avoiding your eye contact. "Like, a whole month."
The adorableness there was to Tara Carpenter, the amazing girl you're blessed with, was beyond you. "You could've told me, Tara." You tucked a loose strand between her ear, "you know I like talking with you. Especially about something personal, or maybe something about in our relationship."
"I didn't know how to like," she paused, "really, really, express it." She explained, "also I couldn't since you were on that damn video game for weeks now!"
Yeah, you had to blame yourself for that. Or maybe the crew. "I solemnly swear to not play that game. Well, atleast that often." You held up your pinky, making a pinky promise that you always, always never broken in your life.
Tara chuckled, taking your pinky into hers. "Also your phone has been buzzing like crazy for the last few minutes."
"It's just Mindy bragging about she got rich because she was betting over our sex life."
"What!?" The younger Carpenter screamed.
"Don't worry too much about it." You shrugged it off. "Just a skill issue." You joked.
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a/n: just needed to get this off my brain. idea popped into my head one random day and i've been thinking about it actually doing something about it, and it's probably something i need to do to take of my writers block!!
after party
Pairing: G!p!Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Summary: in which you both left a party in pure silence just seconds after tara pulled you away from flirting too much with a girl.
Words: 4.5k
Warnings: pure and heavy smut like every scene is a sex scene. oh and its angry sex
a/n: i wanna consider this as the special valentines fic because the main one im writing right now im totally so damn stumped on. so heres one to atleast keep up with my stories
masterlist.

You were too fucked out of your mind to even process anything. All you took note of was that your girlfriend looks pretty fucking hot when she's jealous.
Your breath was caught in your throat as Tara's hands pressed you firmly against the wall, a forceful thud and your back meeting the hard surface, your bodies pressed together as your hands tried to push her away but your efforts were in vain when you were met with her abs concealed beneath her shirt. Tara's lips claimed yours without a second of hesitation, letting her mouth slip inside as she explored every inch of you.
A gasp that turned into a moan escaped your lips as Tara's hands slid eagerly under your thighs, you could feel a smirk between kisses, her touch warm under your skin as she effortlessly lifted you up against the wall, all while you allowed your tongue surrender as she took control over you. You could feel her fingers slipping under your shorts, caressing every inch of your skin with her thumb, tracing the delicate curves of your ass before squeezing it sent shivers down your spine.
Her lips on yours and her hot breath mingled with your own was its own fix. Too intoxicating, yet so addictive, you couldn't get enough even if it killed you. Your hands go nowhere but to instinctively wrap them around her head, fingers possessively at the nape of her neck, letting your head tilt to create the perfect angle for Tara to deepen her assault inside your mouth.
It wasn't romantic, it wasn't delicate, it wasn't passionate. It was raw, filthy, messy, and sloppy. But who were you to care if you got to see Tara so eager to fuck the shit out of you?
She pulled away, her breathing becoming strained as a string of saliva unraveling themselves as your lips were far apart from hers, an aching sensation that you never wanted to happen. "Why were you flirting with her? In front of me?" Tara breathed out, her voice filled with desperation and want, husky but fuck did it make you clench around nothing.
"I wasn't—god," Your pathetic words turned into a moan when you felt Tara push her body against yours with force. You could feel her hard erection rub against your clothed clit, driving you wild, your hips bucking involuntarily to seek more friction than a simple bump of its head as you struggled to explain, "I didn't mean to."
Her nails dug into the soft and sweaty flesh of your ass, making you wince as she spoke, "You were practically fucking yourself onto her." Tara's words were harsh, but it made your cunt throb with wetness more than ever, clenching around nothing yet again. It took all of your self-control to not pull down everything she had and ride her dick until the insides of your pussy remembered her shape.
"I didn't… I didn't mean to, Tara, please," you stammered. You could feel saliva dripping from your mouth as your abused lips hung open, wanting nothing more than to let Tara inside. Or better yet, letting her cock drill into your mouth until it hits the back of your throat.
Her eyes bore into yours, making you feel like prey under her hands. It was rare to see Tara like this, and fuck it turned you on. "You liked her hands on you, didn't you? You even got her number." The sound of her voice terrified you, but it never overcame the excitement that shot through your spine, shivering as she tried to bring you closer to her, her mouth opened to take yours but you were never granted that.
"No—" You tried to find a voice when all you can do is whine, whimper, and moan whenever her throbbing cock was rubbing against your pussy and the tightening grip she had on your ass. "I don't want her, please," you whined, "I want you. Only you."
"Really, y/n?" Tara's breath caressed your skin, "Then let me fuck you against my bed so everyone in this apartment can hear how fucking good you take my cock. That alright with you, baby?" She purred, her grip on your ass tightening further as she guided both of you toward the bedroom. Her head leaned in, tracing lazy kisses along your jawline. It was crazy to think someone so small could have this much strength.
You nodded feverishly, a small mhm coming out, afraid that your words would just come out as a pathetic whine. Your hands remained on her shoulders as you allowed Tara to manhandle you toward the bed. The ache between your legs, combined with the throbbing need within your pussy, pleaded for her touch even more, wanting nothing but to let her dick plow into your dripping pussy until you couldn't take it.
Tara wasted no time in throwing you against the bed, your back landing on the mattress with a loud thud while her body was on top of yours, her cock pressed so fucking close against your pussy, the subtle friction making your hips buck in a desperate motion. Her hands went down your chest, tugging at the fabric that was the only barrier between her and your body.
"You know, she would've ripped it apart and fucked me so good right now."
You could tell that was the last straw for Tara.
In a heartbeat, Tara abandoned any hint of gentleness she had with you, ripping your blouse open with such force she almost tore it apart, eliciting a rather embarrassing wince from you.
The piece of unwanted fabric desperately clung near the edges of your shoulders, barely holding on as you felt her hands drop to your chest. Her fingers traced the curves of your body, the simple touch making your pussy throb with want yet again, reaching up to your breasts and then to your mouth, her thumb parting your lips as she ducked down to slip her tongue into yours.
Your hands flew to Tara's shorts, fingers frantically pulling the hem down along with her boxers, letting them slide down to Tara's hips as her throbbing cock sprang out, slapping against the fabric of her shirt. She was big. Probably the first and last monstrous cock you'd ever take.
"Tara…" you gasped, her name escaping your lips in a breathy moan as Tara pulled away. Her hands immediately found their way to your waist as her fingers worked to pull your own shorts down, mindlessly discarding them around somewhere, your wet cunt being exposed to the cold air and Tara's gaze.
"God, y/n, you're soaked," she whispered as she wrapped her fingers around her cock, stroking it up and down. Your slick gushing out on her mattress was one of the things that made her erection throb so damn painfully. She guided the head, coaxed with her own pre-cum, to your slick folds, parting them slowly. "Wanna fuck you so deep and let you forget about her entire existence," she breathrd out, her eyes watched yours in a haze with your mouth hung open.
"Tara fucking Carpenter, if you don't—FUCK!"
You cried out as you felt Tara shove her cock deep inside your tight pussy without warning, the sudden invasion making your folds stretch so damn good to accommodate her throbbing length, the pain mixed with pleasure making your head spin and your toes curl.
Tara's hands gripped your hips firmly, her perfectly manicured nails digging into your skin to hold your body steady as she relentlessly kept sinking her huge cock into your heat.
Your body shuddered, making the perfect arch for Tara to penetrate your pussy even further as she leaned down, Tara, wait, you're too big, oh shit...!" You moaned, letting her bite and kiss every inch of her skin as you welcomed her, marking you as her own as if her dick wasn't claiming you right this second.
Tara continued fucking into you, ignoring how painful it was to be inside of you yet so satisfying seeing her dick disappearing and reappearing, your wet slick going nowhere but being used as a lube for her thick and girthy cock.
Her name continuously escaped your lips along with a moan, "...shit! Right there Tara, oh fuck!" You gasped, giving her the most pornographic moan she ever heard, the lewd repeated claps of your ass meeting her hips while she rammed her shaft inside you with disgruntled breaths and grunts.
"Take it, baby," she whispered, her voice husky as her hands slid under your thighs that instinctively encircled her body, "I know you can." She slowed her pace down, grabbing your legs and folding them onto your body then returned to her merciless pace, "Such a perfect mess for me." She grunted, her hips desperately rutting into your sex.
You moaned uncontrollably throughout her room, "So... so full, holy fuck," You groaned, throwing your head back in pure ecstasy, your fists clenching, your eyes rolling back and your toes curling beneath her as you writhed under her touch, wanting more even if your pussy was already stuffed to the brim with Tara.
Your arms reached out to her, fingers gripping her shoulders all while your body shook and squirmed underneath her, "Fuck me. Fuck me so hard, please, Tara!" You begged, tears starting to trickle down your eyes while immense pleasure washed over you, your voice reverberating as she dicked you down.
Tara's half-lidded eyes locked in with yours, pure lust evident in her eyes. No longer staring at your puffy folds, her mouth hung open, grunts escaping her soft lips with every forceful thrust.
"You want this, don't you?" Her mouth poured out words with every harsh thrust she gave you. Your mind couldn't work properly, let alone form any coherent sentences other than incoherent mumbling and needy whimpers of her name. "To make me fuck you senseless with my cock until your brain couldn't think of anything other than my dick."
It was clear she knew the answer, she just needed to hear it from you.
Your breath hitched, staring at Tara as if you'd pass out by how stretched you were under her, your throat unable to form words as it was caught between pathetic gasps and moans, your walls fluttering around her dick like it was your sole purpose to be her cock-warming slut and manhandled so good by her.
You couldn't focus on anything other than Tara. Tara, Tara, Tara, oh how her cock felt so good buried inside of you, how it kept hitting your cervix with every thrust, and how it was so fucking painful yet it sent shivers down your spine that made your back arch so naturally.
"Answer me," she rasped, her hands releasing the harsh grip on your thighs that were bound to leave a mark and letting them trail up your body until they reached your throat, her fingers wrapping around it with their possessive grip, her nails slightly grazing your skin that were already adorned with hickeys. "Don't tell me you're too drunk on my cock to think of anything else."
You couldn't handle it anymore, your airways constricting with each tightening grip Tara had on your throat. "Yes!" you screamed, "I need your dick so much, so badly, Tara, my God—!" You choked out, your muscles tensing as you felt a knot forming in your stomach, your cunt clenching around her cock
"So close, so close, soclosesoclose, 'm close, Tara, f-fuck!" you whimpered, your hands reaching over her shoulders, nails clawing against her chiseled back, leaving red marks along her body that were bound to scar.
You couldn't miss the subtle wince that went across Tara's face under your harsh touch. Even if you were so damn close to cumming around her dick, the relentless slam of her hips onto your skin taking a toll on your sense of awareness, you still took notice of the muted groan of pain leaving her lips amidst the struggling grunts and low moans she breathed out. Yet you could feel the undeniable twitch from her cock buried deep inside you out of pleasure.
"Why were you flirting with her?"
Tara cocked her head to the side, her voice still raspy and her breaths were hot and heavy. The pace of her thrusts slowed as she began to give deliberate and agonizing strokes with her dick as she toyed with you, her hips slowly thrusting inside of you so excruciatingly slow to the point you'd be better off at riding her cock until your cunt spasms so hard you couldn't cum anymore.
"I wasn't…" you panted desperately, the slow and deliberate movement of Tara's hips driving you insane. "I wasn't flirting… with… oh, fuck..!" You let out a guttural moan as you felt Tara pull out, almost to her tip, and slammed her cock back in your cervix with such force.
You threw your head back, eyes rolling while your mouth hung open to deliver a loud moan that echoed throughout, your back arching in response to her plowing her length inside of you once more.
Tara continued her relentless assault, though if not slower, your hands frantically going to your face, grabbing a handful of your hair as you subtly hid your face away from hers. Biting the flesh of your arm to hide the rather embarrassing and pathetic moans you kept producing.
"Who?" She leaned down, her hot yet soft lips giving you wet kisses all along your jaw as your muffled moans filled the room and her ears, "Who, baby?" she pressed all while your muffled whimpers filled the room, her hands going to your face and pulling your arms out of way. Her voice was soft, unlike the way she fucked you into insanity, acting as if she was the most innocent girl in the room.
"I don’t know.. I don’t know!" You sobbed, actual tears running down your face as Tara kept her tormenting pace. You couldn't think of anything anymore, let alone other people who are not Tara. Sentences just flowed out of you as if Tara controlled every inch of your brain. Your cunt soaked her dick with your wetness, the knot in your stomach tightening with every thrust.
"Please," you desperately pleaded, the words escaping with more neediness than you intended it to be. "Just, oh my god, let me cum!" You cried out as your body shook under her, ready for release, but you knew she wasn't going to give you that when she pulled out, a loud wince escaping your lips.
It took all your self-control not to pull her back with such force that her cock would immediately hit your cervix and you'd rut all over her until she was satisfied with you.
"Wha... Tara what the fuck!?"
You whined as you looked down, her dick still standing proudly at 7 inches with its thick girth, resting on her stomach, still hard and erect. So why the fuck did she pull out when you could've been on the verge of having the most jaw-dropping orgasm of your life.
The knot in your stomach eased slightly as Tara grabbed a handful of your hair, her head leaning down, "Here's what we're going to do, baby," she whispered against your lips, your need to slip your tongue into hers was just a fleeting thought.
Her dick twitched over your thigh, and you knew you looked like the hottest mess Tara had ever laid her eyes on, and the knowledge that your face looked like a fucked-up, cock-drunk, slut for Tara made your pussy throb.
"I'm gonna fuck you so hard against that glass window," she continued, her voice low and husky as you looked over, "until all of New York hears how you're such a pathetic and filthy whore for my dick." She raised her free hand to cup your cheeks, caressing the soft and red skin you had from sobbing your heart out. "Then you're going to thank me for letting you cum on my cock while screaming my name."
If you weren't crazy then, then you were definitely going crazy now. You looked at Tara, doe eyes and all.
"Do you hear me, y/n?" She demanded, and you dumbly nodded in response.
"Mmh, yeah, yes please," you whimpered, your voice so desperate and needy as you dropped to your knees, gazing up at Tara who was already standing up, your hands almost reaching to wrap around her cock if not for her hand slapping it away. It was unfair she was half-clothed while you looked like you got railed every second. "I'll do what you want, anything, just let me cum, Tara…"
"There's that good girl I know." Tara purred, her simple approval and praise making you wet as ever. Her hands found your shoulders, turning you around to face away from her as you obeyed her silent orders.
You gave her the best possible view of your back, a perfect arch as your head was off to the side, all while offering her a glimpse of your exposed pussy.
You could feel her hands trailing down your back as your head faced forward, your eyes dropping down to the mattress. With a firm grip, she grabbed both of your wrists, tying them together with her hand while her other arm traveled back to your shoulder.
With your hands bound behind you, Tara led you towards the window, forcefully pressing your face against the cold and hard surface, the windowpane flushed on your skin. You could see every apartment that surrounded Tara's, lights turned on and some turned off, some maybe even watching the both of you.
You wouldn't be lying if you said it turned you on so much.
Tara's body was pressed onto yours, gasping for solid air as you felt the hard length of her clock sliding against your ass, its slow movement teased every inch of your body as the pleasure shot up from your spine.
"You won't mind if I use your phone, right?" She asked while you wondered how the hell she even got your phone in the first place in this position. But you didn't mind.
You weren't above filming a little video for her, especially when it came to something like sex. In fact, you have a dedicated folder solely for those kinds of videos, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't have a video of Tara screaming your name replaying in your head over and over as you fucked yourself to it.
And so, you nodded.
Oh, how you wished you hadn't.
Or rather, you wished you didn't immediately add the girls number in your contacts so quickly.
"Fucking hell," Tara murmured to herself which didn't go unnoticed by you. As well as the sounds of Tara dialing a number onto your phone.
Glancing over your shoulders, you found Tara standing right behind you. Her hand gripped her throbbing cock, teasing your slick folds while her gaze remained fixated on the ringing phone in her other hand.
"Tara, what are you—" you began, but before you could finish your sentence, Tara shoved her cock deep inside you with a force that left you more than breathless, penetrating your pussy so good that left you gasping for air as you cried out her name.
"Oh, God! Tara—Shit, Tara!" You screamed, your head throwing back as your fingers gripped the wall, "feels s' good, f-fuck!," you cursed, a perfect arch making its way to your spine while Tara fucked your juices back inside of you.
Her cock fit perfectly inside you, almost as if it was already molded to the shape of her dick precisely. Every vein, and every twitch of her shaft inside of you felt so familiar. Her balls repeatedly slapped your clit by her relentless pace, driving you to the brink of insanity by the touch alone. Every pleasure you felt shot down onto your cunt, hot and so fucking intoxicating.
You wanted to push her away, to catch a breath and your abused folds catch a breath, yet bring her deeper into your body, wanting and craving her more and more.
It felt so good to the point you didn't notice the 'hello, y/n?' that came from your phone.
"Hold it." Tara commanded of you, her body leaning down to yours, bringing your phone closer to your ear.
You looked at her, wide-eyed. Your lips and mind tempted to moan out her name as she kept pounding her cock inside of you if not for the abrupt phone call. "Tara…" you whimpered, "Tara, I-I can't—" your voice barely audible before her hand covered your mouth, muffling your moans when she gave you a hard thrust.
The pleasure she's giving you by simply moving and her still dick filling you up send shivers down your spine, yet the voice coming from your phone won't stop talking.
You took over Tara's hand from the phone, putting it up to your ear as you spoke quietly. "Yeah—sorry, he—hey!" You stammered, attempting to even get a coherent thought over your clouded mind while Tara continued assaulting your puffy pussy, "who, oh fuck, is this?"
"I'm the girl at the party, Cady! You do remember, right?"
You don't, really. It's all a blur.
You gasped, your head turning to the side as you tried to muffle your noises as quietly as possible, "yeah, yeah, I remember. Why—why, are you calling?"
The girl on the line laughed, chuckling even, "you called me. I didn't expect getting a call so easily after that conversation."
Please stop talking, you wanted to say.
You could feel Tara's jealousy and anger through the way her hands gripped your waist, her other hand delivering a sharp slap to your ass.
"I… I probably was—I was drunk," you stuttered, struggling to find the right words as your head ducked down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call," you breathed out, biting your lip to prevent a single whimper coming out of you.
"Well, you did," she replied, her tone teasing, laughing even more, "But I'm glad you did. We can pick up where we left off, if you know what I mean," You knew there was a sultry tone to her voice, probably even winking across the phone. "Is there someone in your room? I thought I heard something crash."
Tara leaned down, her grip on your hips tighter than ever, planting wet and sloppy along your shoulders to your ear, "You wanna tell them how good I'm fucking you, baby?" She whispered huskily, innocently kissing your cheeks as if she wasn't teasing you with another person on the other line.
"Wanna tell her how fucking good it feels to have my cock buried deep inside you?" She thrusted, her arms going to your shoulders and pushing your body deeper inside of her, "Tell her how you're begging for more, how you couldn't get enough of my dick?"
You were so glad you moved the phone just an inch away.
"I, oh my God, uhm, Tara—Tara!" You screamed out, a broken moan escaping your lips, hiding it by the fact you were mentioning her name, "yeah, Tara's here. Carpenter. She's, well, joining me for a simple exercise," you managed to reply, your voice shaky.
"Didn't know you guys were close."
"Yeah, we...uh, got closer recently," you stammered while Tara continued her relentless assault on your tight cunt, her cock plunging deep inside you, "we—oh shit—she lives with me so, yeah!"
You could hear Tara laugh at the half-assed excuse, probably the most common ones in the book.
Cady laughed through the phone once more, "I didn't mean to interrupt anything by picking up the phone, did I?"
"Cady, it's… It's fine," you managed to gasp, your voice strained with pleasure as Tara's relentless thrusts kept pounding into you harder and faster if it was even possible. "Oh, fuck!" You couldn't help but moan loudly, yet accidentally, the phone still pressed to your ear, as Tara leaned down once more and took over the phone, bringing it close to her ear as she let you grip the walls with such immense tightness.
"I'm sure y/n will forget you in a matter of seconds after this," she purred, "especially when she's getting fucked so good by me." She turned the phone around, enabling video on, letting Cady see your ass bouncing along her cock, her dick disappearing deep inside you and your back arching in pure ecstasy, "I almost pity you on how you'll never feel the never-ending pleasure of her pussy clenching around you."
She hung up before a single scream shouted from the phone, throwing it on the bed, "'m gonna cum, Tara. Baby, I'm gonna cum, Shit, shit,shitshitshitshitshit!"
Your body tensed, a knot forming in your lower abdomen as you cried out her name like a prayer, begging for a desperate release of being denied just moments ago. You could feel her hands gripping your hips even tighter, her grunts and little moans escaping her lips only drove you more into an orgasm,
Your moans filled the room, mixing with Tara's own gasps and the sound of skin slapping against skin, your wetness coating her dick. "Cum on me baby," she whispered, her fingers running across your hair as she threw your head back, "don't forget to do what I said."
"Tara! Oh, fuck, that feels so good!" Your walls clenched around her cock, your body trembling while you felt Tara's own climax shoot ropes of cum deep inside of you as she held you close, her arms wrapped around you as she came, "thank you..." You murmured, crying out, "thank you, baby, fuck your cock still feels so good inside me..."
The intense grip you had on the glass faltered, your legs giving way as you collapsed against the window, your body still shaking and your pussy tightening against Tara's twitching cock while you waited for her to empty her load inside of you, her hips still bucking while she caressed your skin, leaving a trail of kisses and words of affection down your neck.
"I love you..." she whispered against your skin, "you're gorgeous," she kissed, "such a good girl, y/n."
You nodded weakly, a smile covering your lips as you slid down the glass wall as Tara gently turned you around, planting a tender kiss on your lips.
"My pretty girl," Tara called out, softness in her voice while she tucking a loose strand behind your ear and wiping the tears away, "you did so well."
Tara cupped your cheek, all too evident that you were tired and exhausted, her thumb brushing lightly against your skin as she stared into your eyes. It was all too beautiful for Tara.
You started to wrap your arms on her shoulders, pulling her close while she laughs"I'll carry you to the bathroom, mkay? I'll draw you a bath and we can cuddle there."
You were too tired out to say or think of anything, so you opted with a nod.
Tara chuckled softly in your response, scooping you up in her oddly strong arms as she carried you to the bathroom, her touch now soft and comforting instead of harsh and cruel.
You didn't think the afterparty would turn out like this, but you were grateful it did.
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aftermath bonus:
Y: "are you still mad at me?" T: *shrug* "lost it within the three seconds we started making out" Y: "what the fuck tara?!"
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a/n: tara is the size of two apples tall (give or take), every possible bone in her body is fractured, probably losing blood by the minute, her shoesize is probably smaller than a rats AND the girl has asthma. it almost felt wrong writing her like this. off topic but i wished tumblr had a like comment thing for people like me that for some reason is too scared and shy to reply to you guys. I REALLY APPRECIATE THE COMMENTS, TRULY!! THEY MAKE MY DAY SM BETTER
how would you spend your valentines?
Pairing: J.O Characters x Fem!Reader
Summary: in which jo characters spend valentines with you
Words: 6.4k
Warnings: just fluff honestly
a/n: holy shit febs ending and im only posting this now. mb yall!!
masterlist

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horrid day
Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader
Words: 2.0k
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"Thing."
A loud thud was made from across the appendages cabinet, accompanied by a more louder door-slam and the menacing steps of combat boots that's probably worn from someone who looks too big for them came after.
Light appeared from his sight and it'd be much better if he died suffocated inside this damn cabinet rather than being forced to look at something, someone rather, being the next satan in line.
Wednesday stared at the hand, her grip on the knob tight as she watched Thing lie flat on the wooden surface, looking like he just got stabbed with something invisible.
"Accompany me to this ludicrous trip I have no idea why I planned for myself." Her tone was calm but it seemed like she was about to subtract one of his digits if he didn't comply.
'Why should I--'
The phrase 'seeing life flash before my eyes' would be an understatement for Thing when he was met with possibly the sharpest blade on earth crossing one of his thumbs.
"Thing you will accompany me or I swear to deities, I will force you to crawl to the depths of hell and its rings back and forth until you've reach exhaustion and blisters on your skin."
Her voice cut through his confidence, her blade almost puncturing a hole.
So slowly, he nodded. If he even can. He just nodded with his palm up straight and his fingers curled.
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And that's how Wednesday ended up on the busiest day on the street of Jericho, a hand not attached to her arm but walking on the damn sidewalk with a damn leash and a damned thought in her head.
If only it didn't seem like it was the day of giving every flower and chocolate someone could ever possibly find in a 10-mile vicinity of this horrid town then give it to you as some gift or whatever you called it, maybe she wouldn't be roughhoused more times than she could count by too many people on too many stores.
Wednesday scowled at everyone, even more at the couples who strolled in hand in hand, her fingers firmly gripping the leash that was attached to Thing.
"This is ridiculous," she muttered under her breath, shooting an irritated glance at Thing, who looked like he was trampled and being trampled to death. "Why did I even decide to follow through with this."
'Because you saw y/n holding a bunch of bouquets and you wanted to out-do everyone who ever gave her a flower because of some reason you don't know but it gives you a weird tingling sensation in your head to the point you want to be ranked first on the lists of serial killers,' Thing signed.
Wednesday kept walking, tugging at the leash. "Nonsense." She whispered to herself. Her voice softened a little bit, more vulnerable even as she looked forward. It didn't matter, nor did she care whether you got flowers, even the most extravagant ones didn't bother her. It didn't. It definitely did not.
But why did she even go here if it didn't?
"I am not trying to out-do anyone. I simply… want to make a statement." She stopped, her steps coming to a close while Thing raised what passed for eyebrows in his form.
Every shop inventory was sold out, even the shops that sold the flowers at an extremely high rate it'd be better if you bought a house at that point and crowds seem to lessen by the time Wednesday reached the last flower shop.
She could get chocolates, but why give you more chances of dying of diabetes?
'Wednesday, you know what you have to do.'
"Thing, please, do not." The grip on the leash explicitly tightened, almost as if she was going to rip the entire thing apart. She was standing strong with her shoulders still, but her mind was only one sign away to break down.
'You have to crochet a bouquet for y/n.'
She bent down and grabbed Thing by his wrists, clutching his body like it was the last thing on earth that was going to make her problems of a slight romantic gesture go away, her perfectly manicured nails digging onto his skin.
"I will find the nearest laboratory and pray to God there's an abundance of Promethium to douse you into," Wednesday hissed between clenched teeth. The tips of her fingers turned white as she paced back and forth, keeping Thing within sight, his body slumping from the lack of oxygen.
Thing repeatedly tapped on her thumb, his own nails scratching Wednesday's skin as a plead for mercy, his complexion turning white under Wednesday's firm grip. 'I'll help you! I'll help you,' he tapped, desperately.
Thing bounced to the floor after a suffocating release, extending his fingers out, noticing the young Addams' nails leaving faint imprints on his skin, even little cuts starting to form around them.
"Fine. I'll..." she stammered, her words drawing out as if she was disgusted by the mere thought and weighed down by hesitation, "I'll crochet a bouquet for y/n."
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You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you opened your locker to see probably a hundred polaroids of you drop to the floor and a hand-written letter laying flat on the surface with dried flowers.
It was safe to conclude that you were either, a, being stalked or, b, someone was planning your death and this was just a cute little 'one day notice' from the murderer.
But you knew it was from Wednesday. No sane person that wasn't an Addams wont write their letters so terrifyingly romantic and then send it in blood with their favorite flower species being black dahlia and probably a hex written to curse all your past and future generations if you don't comply.
You can handle a fuck ton of flowers to save a closing flower shop and a shit ton of chocolates to outdo Willy Wonka's own chocolate factory, but you definitely can not handle a possible fight between Wednesday Addams.
And that's why you're here now, at Wednesday's doorstep, your hand trembling against the doorknob, and your feet ready to bolt out of Nevermore and probably book a flight to whatever country you needed to escape her wrath.
"Wednesday, look, I don't know what I did to you or your family but I'm really so so so sorry!" You rambled, eyes closed as your voice trembled, turning the door just slightly until it fully opened.
The creak of the door echoed throughout the room and your mind, like it was playing tricks with you or something to amp up your fear.
You opened your eyes to find not a thousand knives surrounding you and a bomb threat immediately attached to a chair but rather Wednesday standing there with something wrapped around her fingers. Her expression was unreadable unlike the many times it wasn't to you.
"What are you apologizing for?" she finally spoke, her voice monotone as she walked up to you. She looked... almost nervous? You didn't know if it was a ruse or she was actually nervous.
"I... I don't know exactly," you stammered, "I just thought, you know, I might've done something to upset you, and I really didn't mean to."
Wednesday's eyebrows arched slightly, a crease forming in her forehead.
"Okay, look, if someone writes 'meet me where satan sits or I will cover your flesh in slits' in, what seems to be, their blood I can't really help it but apologize and be so damn terrified you know?!'"
Wednesday's expression softened slightly at your explanation, "Ah, yes, I can see how that might be… alarming to most people like you."
She held out what she had been clutching in her fingers, a crocheted small bouquet of flowers all tied together by a ribbon "I do sincerely apologize for the… slightly murderous approach." Wednesday Addams, apologizing? "I intended it a like to a gesture of affection people seem to be giving out these days, though I may have overdone it."
What is happening to the world?
You blinked. Blinked more than a hundred of times now ever since you entered the room. You were unsure if you were dreaming or Wednesday Addams was actually showing the tiniest bit of softness towards you. On valentines.
Mouth hung open, you took the bouquet from her hands, your skin grazing hers as she lowered her arms back to her sides. You knew Wednesday wouldn't be the one to crochet, let alone to any of this, but there was so much detail and effort put into the bouquet, it's hard to believe she did it all alone.
"Thank… thank you, Wends!" You smiled, beaming even, "kinda unexpected of you." You turned the bouquet over in your hands, examining every thread, "didn't know you were joining in this Valentines."
This would be fine. Just fine. Just two friends greeting eachother on Valentines, and giving flowers to them.
If you didn't have the biggest crush on Wednesday Addams yet.
You couldn't contain the grin that spread across your face till you actually looked at the bouquet in your hands, gripping it with such excitement. It was real. This moment was real, and you weren't stuck in a daydream you're having in class. This was actually happening.
"Why'd you do all of this?"
You looked at Wednesday who seemed to have her own confused expression, as if you caught her off guard.
"I don't... I don't know."
Maybe you'd take a risk after all this valentines.
You took a step forward, letting the bouquet drop to the ground where Thing was standing the whole time, assuming a companion of some sorts for Wednesday.
"Do you allow me to touch you?"
She nodded, you inched a little closer.
"Allow me to hold you?"
She nodded, her eyes furrowing and her body almost hesitating, you hold her as if she was something fragile given to you.
"Allow me to talk to you as such?"
She nodded, you whispered to her. Your tone was soft, yet it was filled with hesitation and fear of being pushed away.
"Allow me to hold your hand?"
She nodded, you reached out for her hand, intertwining your fingers with her own as if it was your own soul you were protecting from ivy.
"Allow me to say something I never think I'd say?"
She nodded, you tightened your grip on her, letting your thumb graze over her cold skin in contrast of your warmth.
"Allow me to love you so, so, dearly?"
She nodded, slowly. It wasn't a question, it was something more than that. An oath.
"And for you to love me back?"
"Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible if the both of you weren't so close enough already.
With your trembling hands holding Wednesday's palm, you cupped her face gently.
You allowed your eyes to cross every feature she had, your fingertips memorizing every contour of her face, allow them to be recognized to only you who seemed invested and let the world overlook her beauty, her soul through her dark eyes. As if you were seeing true beauty for the first time.
"May I?"
She was hesitating, she is hesitating. And, fuck, do you want to curse yourself for that.
"It doesn't have to be a kiss on the lips, Wednesday," you murmured softly, letting your words carry out with your actions, "We can take it slow at your pace. Whatever you're comfortable with, I'll do it."
You expected her to pull away, to maintain her usual stoic expression and distance. Yet, she didn't.
She leaned into your touch, her head finding a comfortable spot on your neck. Letting her eyes close, her breath going to your ears like a soft melody on a guitar, your worries slowly going away.
You stood there, holding Wednesday in an embrace you sure you wouldn't let go even if there was a force stretching you apart. Her heartbeat against yours, her arms slowly reciprocating the tightening grip you had on her, the faint smile that slowly graced her ever cold lips, it was nothing yet it was everything.
"I tolerate you." She muttered, her voice mumbled by your shirt yet somehow you heard everything.
A gentle chuckle escaped your lips, your other hand going above her head as you ran your fingers through her hair, "I tolerate you too, Wednesday."
It truly was a horrid day.
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cupid sucks so why not do the job for them?
Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Words: 2.0k
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You hear a door swing open, then a earsplitting slam echoed throughout the whole apartment, hell it even drowned the scream of some horror movie you were watching. Sounds of grumbling and loud stomping made it's way to you, an eerie aura you felt behind your back.
It's concerning how you almost immediately know it's Tara Carpenter.
"Welcome back I guess?" you greeted, a crease in your eyebrows as you turned to look at her, her back being the only thing you see. The potato chips you were about to eat stuck in the air for a moment of time.
The hell is that?
"Looks like cupid shot the wrong person," you chuckled, leaping over the couch to tug at a small arrow lodged behind her, a pop being heard as it came loose. "Why do you have this in your back?"
You hear Tara groan for the millionth time ever since she darkened her own doorstep, "Stupid fucks trying to get me into valentines when I'm clearly stressed about exams!" She turned around, snatching the arrow from your hands and snapping it in half without hesitation.
You flinched, "Aren't your exams not until March?" You jumped back into the couch, the soft cushion dipping as you laid down, your head turning back to the horror movie.
"Ugh, Tara, just tell her the truth," Mindy approached both of you from the kitchen, making her way to the you. "Have a little mercy and don't subject y/n to your lame excuses." She crossed her arms.
"What truth?" You sat up almost immediately, your head snapping to look at Tara with horrified eyes. "Is there something you've been keeping from me, Tara!? I thought we were best friends!" you shrieked.
Tara rolled her eyes, reaching out for your forehead and tipping it back down to the couch, "Dramatic."
Mindy excused herself, your legs retracting as you gave her space to sit beside you, "She's a little miserable because of a certain someone not giving her any valentines gift."
"Oh my God."
"You have a crush!?" You screamed. Almost happy, but then again, you were not. Definitely not happy. When the hell did this happen!?
"Please," Tara groaned, her eyes wrinkling as she pinched the bridge of her nose, "don't call it a crush."
"What the hell am I supposed to call it then?"
"Call it someone I admire," she made her way across the couch, her arms gesturing the both of you to move, "A little."
You hear Mindy give out a little scoff and chuckle, "You've been screaming into your pillow for the past four months of crushing on them."
"Why am I only hearing about this now!?" You exclaimed, a little hurt, yes, or it was more than a little hurt–finding out that the not-really-love-of-your-life-but-she-is-kinda is in love with another person was the type of blow on valentines day that made you want to reach up in the sky and strangle cupid.
Tara sighed, "Because I don't want you teasing me, especially you."
"Then how come Mindy gets to know?" you questioned her, your head leaning back against the armchair while your legs were sprawled on Tara's lap. "It's Min-dy, Tara!"
"I bribed her into telling me," Mindy chimed in with a casual shrug.
You have nothing to do with it nor do you have any right to, but you couldn't help it but feel a tinge of jealousy. People have to feel that emotion some times, right? You were only human, and this was just one of those moments where you'd get jealous for a somehow valid thing.
I mean, you were there when Tara healed from all her scars, you were there when she finally really talked with Sam, you were there when she got accepted into her dream college and even threw a celebration, you were there for Tara through thick and thin, and you never missed a birthday or a special event she had ever since you met her.
To sum it up: you were there for everything! How could some guy, who probably didn't even try as hard as you did, get Tara to fall in love with them!?
Your eyes gazed down to the lower corner of the TV, no longer paying attention to Mia Goth's stunning performance. You've watched this movie a hundred of times if not more, it was one of your favorites that Tara introduced to you next to the Babadook, so it was always an opening for conversations with her.
Now you could only imagine Tara and that, whoever it was, sitting on the same damn couch and talking about some stupid damn conversation and you just have to deal with it.
But it was fine. Tara had someone, someone she truly cared about, and that was a good thing. You were fortunate enough to witness her happiness with that person and have them as a constant presence in her life without any danger, that was a plus.
"Who are they anyway?" you grumbled, the words slipping out almost involuntarily before you could catch yourself.
The couch shifted slightly, Tara and Mindy exchanging knowing glances as you eyed both of them.
"Oh my God," you whispered in horror, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach, trying to face the truth even if it was meant to kill you. "Is it Chad!?"
Tara's face contorted into pure disgust, more disgust than ever while Mindy burst into a hearty laughter, "that is one of the most vile and revolting thing you have ever said to me, what the actual fuck y/n!?"
"Oh, you are disgusting!" Mindy laughed, throwing her head back as Tara's constant "ew" and her laugh filled the room.
"So if it isn't Chad, then who is it!?" You exclaimed, a slight smile coming from your lips as you watched them both.
"No way you're serious." Mindy raised an eyebrow, jumping off the couch and walking to her own room in the apartment, "I'll let the two of you figure this out!" She called out before you hear the door slam shut.
The silence was deafening. More deafening than having noise cancelling headphones jammed into your ears 24/7; it can be relaxing but it also can be so damn nerveracking.
You and Tara were always joined at the hip, no matter the situation was, the both of you almost always seemed to know what was a good conversation for the two of you.
Yet nothing good crossed your mind at this moment. By nothing good you mean having Tara namedrop her crush and have your life crashing down before your eyes.
"It.. it doesn't matter who you love or who is that special someone for you." You stammered, your voice cracking just slightly, hoping Tara wouldn't notice. "I'm just happy you have someone you admire and someone thats so lovely you want to be with them forever." Your fists were clenched as you continued, a soft smile graced your lips, sure, but hurt overcame everything.
"So I really want to get to know the sad and poor victim who had cupid hit Tara Carpenter square in the back," you laugh, turning to her.
You were expecting Tara to just go all in and scream in the top of her lungs her own love of her life and that she doesn't like you (optional).
Instead, she shot you with the most confused and offended look ever as if you just cursed her whole family bloodline through the most foulest of witchcraft thats dated wayback the 15th century.
"Who..." she started, her eyebrows creasing and her face twisting as if she was so done with you, "who else could it be but you!?"
what.
what hte fuck?? is she seirlous??? whathwhawthwhatwhatwhatwhatwhattheactualfuckishappening.
It was safe to say that your world froze. The tilt of the earth became an even number, a fraction maybe, the globes gravitational force flipping and rotating, the world spinning yet it stops every few seconds while your brain tries to process what the fuck just came out of Tara's mouth.
"Me?" you echoed, pointing a hand at yourself, your voice barely a whisper at this point, "you're insane... You're actually crazy."
Tara's expression softened slightly as she turned her whole body to you, her legs crossing and her eyes staring dead center right at you. "I don't want to sit here and just pretend I'm fawning over some guy so that you'd be better off not knowing I love you." She explained, "and I don't want to watch you treat me like any other friend you have when all I ever wanted is to be more than that."
Your mind raced, what was she saying? It was valentines, right? It's February the 14th and not April 1st. Sure, you considered the possibility of Tara liking you, but it was just because one of those manifestation videos you kept seeing on your page and you were too delusional for your own good!
"You can't be serious..." You laughed, chuckled even, taking all of this as a joke, "me? You like like me? Of all people, you chose me?"
Tara crossed her arms, letting out an eye roll and a scoff, "Yes, you! Who else could it possibly be but you? Am I talking to you through them, is that what you think?"
You stayed silent, mouth hung open but words just decided that it wasn't a great time to spill out.
"I... I understand if you don't like me the same way," she started after a while, "I just thought it'd be a great idea to confess now rather than any other day so--"
Tara's words trailed off, voice shaky, and you couldn't bear the thought of letting her finish the sentence with her saying something so foolish. Without another word that came out of her mouth, you closed the distance between the both of you and leaned in, capturing her soft with yours.
You never knew how her lips could be so addicting until today.
She responded eagerly after processing for a bit, her hands finding their way to your waist as she pulled your closer while you raised your hands and cupped her cheeks.
You can feel yourself melting within her body. Her breath was warm against your skin sent shivers down your spine, a feeling that made you think you were everything to her as you felt a smile coming loose from her lips.
She tasted like her perfume, her scent, her chapstick, her clothes, her everything. Her lips were soft, welcoming, and lovely. Tara was everything beauty was under if not more.
The kiss was soft but it lasted longer than it should've. Her palm flat on your waist, only bringing you closer and closer, the heartbeat and rush you felt when your bodies were pressed together like glue, the way Tara's hands grabbed you so possessively as if she'd die if she ever looses another second on your lips, it was perfect. She was perfect.
People fall in love with everything, their first love was nature. You were the same with the majority, you fell in love with everything you see. Your first sunset and sunrise, the first butterfly you saw, your friends, even your first crush. Everything you caught with your very own eyes; you fell in love.
Yet, they weren't your first love. Tara was.
And even if you get to see her everyday, her presence gracing your eyes every time you breath, every time you come alive for another day, you always seem to fall in love with her again and again with no fail.
It only made you so obsessed with her soul.
Now, you finally get to kiss your first love on the day of hearts.
When you finally pulled away, you wished you hadn't.
You looked into Tara's eyes and she looked in yours as she brought her hands to her lips, touching it slightly.
"I never knew," she whispered, smiling.
"I never realized," you admitted, your voice equally as soft as hers while a smile reflected hers.
You would admit, Cupid sucks at their own game. So why not do it yourself?
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cheers to a broken heart
Pairing: Vada Cavell x Fem!Reader
Words: 2.4k
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"Hhaaaapppyyy V day, bitches!"
Vada shouted across the heart-littered and Valentines-illed cafeteria, tray in her hands as she approached your table.
The 14th of February
The day where couples unfortunately couldn't get scolded by any passing teacher whenever they show any excessive public affection in the school.
Everyone was either singing a song to someone, couples weirdly somehow getting it on without a teacher scolding them, confessing their love to their crush and getting rejected (which was honestly Vada's favorite past time for Valentines), and everyone being in a lovesick haze that'll only last two days, give or take.
Nick dropped his food on his own tray, sprinkling off bread crumbs from his fingers as he looked up at Vada. "It's your birthday?"
"Vagina day?" You chewed on your food with your left cheek, leaving room for coherent sentences, "Seriously, Vada?"
"Okay, first of all," Vada sat down, her tray making a loud metallic slam as she sat in front if you, "you have to catch me on some next level shit to scream happy vagina day out loud." She held up her hand as she turned to it, "And second of all, come on Nick! We've been bestfriends for ages and you don't even know my birthday isn't until maybe a few months"
"If only I could forget, maybe my wallet wouldn't be in total wreck, and I wouldn't have the urge to start printing money."
Vada shot back, adjusting her chair, "Then who else is going to pay for my stuff on my birthday?"
"You?" Nick suggested, eyebrows knitting themselves together.
"Aren't you the joker?" Vada retorted, an innocent smile tugging on her lips while Nick playfully scowled
You only stared a them, giving a few huffs of a laugh here and there, your hand mindlessly toying with your food while your other arm rests on the table, holding up your slanted face.
You couldn't eat, you could only stare at it and maybe push some vegetables around to make it look like you're eating. You couldn't really be in the right mindset to eat, let alone have the energy to strike up a conversation not after what happened just a few hours ago.
"You good?" Vada looked up at you, concern tainting her face and voice as she stopped eating all together, "You don't really look good."
Nick raised his fork, pointing at you, "She broke up with her boyfriend."
"What!?"
It was wrong. Very, very wrong, but Vada couldn't help the smile that was fighting for dear life not to show.
Holy fuck, this was the best valentines gift ever!
Not that she was happy that you just ended an almost a year relationship with your partner that probably loved you dearly, she just... She just thinks she can love you 10 times as harder.
You put down your fork in defeat, covering you face in your hands, "I don't know what to do... It just—" you stammered, words faltering, "It just came out so suddenly when we were talking."
Vada raised an eyebrow, "you just don't break up with someone out of the blue on valentines. Come on, dude." She tried to sound emphatic, but she was covering her smile like the damn good friend she is.
"I know!" you exclaimed, "I know... I don't know." You picked up your fork once again, "I think I'm in love with someone new, maybe that's why I broke up with him."
Maybe she spoke too soon.
"Nick?" She turned to him, slowly, "Can you join me to get some food?"
Nick chewed, side-eying her, "Your tray isn't even half done—"
"Nick." She inhaled a little too hard, gripping his wrist, "For the love of fucking God, please."
Nick winced while nodding vigorously, "Alright, alright! I'm coming, damn." The both of you stood up, pushing back your chairs while Nick gestured for you to wait.
"Okay," Vada stood in line, glancing back at the table, "who do you think y/n is in love with!? I mean, yeah, we shouldn't probably pry, but Nick, you know better than anyone else that I would literally die for me to be her girlfriend and you know damn well how many sleepless nights I've stayed up to pray for her boyfriends downfall!"
Nick crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "Are you actually getting food, or are we just—"
"Of course we're not getting food! I'll just get some water, now, answer my question."
"Vada," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I do not know. If I did, I probably would've told you my thoughts at this point. Y/n hasn't shown any interest in anybody."
Vada nodded, her hand resting on her chin as the line moved, "Yeah, I guess theres that. But y/n is so secretive at times!"
Nick sighed, grabbing Vada by the shoulders and excused people out of the way, "V, just ask her or maybe give her time. She's in a state of a break-up right now."
Vada and Nick returned to the table, Vada looking done as ever and Nick returning to eat his food.
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It was either Vada has gone insanely mad or she's just trying to do a friendly gesture by selling out every single flower and chocolate shop that Jericho has established and plans to give them all to you to cheer you up just a slight bit. And maybe let you see she was the one of you after all.
Friendly, maybe not so, but inane is on the mark. She just wants to make you happy!
It was already after class, an hour after to be precise, and she was waiting outside for you, phone in hand as she leaned against her car while a luggage—no—a semi-truck of bouquets and chocolates awaited for you in the back seat.
You exited the building, your own phone in your hand as you looked for Vada's bug-eyed car that she bought with her birthday money that Nick contributed atleast 70% of it, wind caught up in your hair as you finally see Vada in the distance, waving to you like she was just some idiot.
The very sight was a sight for sore eyes, endearing even. Her antics always brought a smile to your face at the end of the day, and her very person bringing unwanted butterflies in your stomach. But you wouldn't admit that. You wouldn't admit that Vada was the reason why you broke up with your boyfriend in the first place.
Vada's smile only widened more as you approached her, the small figure waving to you in the distance. You can practically feel her happiness. "I'm surprise you agreed so fast."
"Thought I needed some time to myself after a horrible breakup," you replied, walking over to the passenger seat right in the front while Vada got into the driver's seat.
"By time to myself do you mean time with the amazing and pretty cool Vada Cavell and her car?" She closed the door behind her, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips as she hooked her legs onto your lap once you were both seated.
You rolled your eyes playfully, letting out a slight scoff, "you're too insufferable for your own good."
Silence overtook her parked car, the outside wind being the only sounds that weren't drowned by the ringing in your ears, but it was the nice type of silence. It was the type of silence that made you feel like you were nothing, a spec of dust even, yet you were having the time of your life with the person you love the most beside you.
Your seat was adjusted to lay back while Vada leaned against the tinted windows with her legs sprawled on top of your lap, probably smoking a joint by the faint smell of weed and ashes filling her car.
You could feel her legs moving, her body sitting up and digging for something in her pockets.
"Vada, you know that I—"
"You don't smoke, yes," Vada's voice, surprisingly low and soft, cut you off. "I get that, I really, really do, and I am all for not breaking your lungs ahead of time." She pulled out a plastic ziplock bag that contained something… a bit more colorful than the regular blunts you'd see.
"…Buuuut," she continued, unlocking the zipper and pulling out the makeshift blunt by her two fingers, "I got you this blunt made up of fruit roll-ups! The inside of it is popping candy. Courtesy of yours truly." She grinned, passing you the candy, "Can't really puff, puff, pass that but it's something you gotta try."
"You're fucking insane, V," you laughed as you shook your head, taking the candy from her hands and putting it against your lips, "it's delicious anyway."
She shrugged, leaning back yet again, "told you so."
It didn't take long for the candy to disappear from your fingers almost immediately, the sweet taste lingering on your tongue, the candy still somehow popping in your ears.
"How do you cut a sandwhich, horizontally or diagonally?" Vada broke the profounding silence, exhaling a puff of smoke as she took the blunt off her lips.
You sat up immediately, a lift in your eyebrows as you looked at her with a concerned grin, "Oh, you are high high."
"Don't overthink it," She sat up, tapping off the ash into the nearby tray beside her floor console, remnants of smoke trailing upwards as she discarded the cig entirely, "Just say whatever comes to your mind."
She intertwined her legs with yours as you both sat up, her arms coming to her knees as she repeated, "Horizontally or diagonally?"
"Horizontally, of course, why would I—"
"Coke or pepsi?"
"Coke."
"Do you pour cereal or milk first?"
"Cereal."
"Why did you break up with your boyfriend?"
"Because I'm in love with you."
"Oh." Shit.
Your eyes widened, if only you were quick to shut your brain and mouth out, or maybe better yet, be both deaf and blind.
It was an understatement to say that panic replaced all your blood cells with the word itself, wishing so damn desperately to take back your words as if it would erase this moment in time and create a new one.
"Oh fuck," you whispered, your other hand ready to completely buck out of her car and sprint to no mans land, or maybe kill yourself. That seemed like the better option out of the others.
"Vada I—" You stammered. The car definitely felt smaller, heavier even. Like it was going to implode within a second. Your lips slightly parted as if you were about to say something, wanted to say something, but nothing came.
"Okay, look—" she gulped, raising her hands, the usual animated gesture while she explained herself.
"I'm… sad? Okay, not sad, that's the truth, you deserve to know it. But!" She exclaimed,, words coming out in a rush, "That's… okay? Not okay for you or for him but it's—" She paused to take a deep breath before continuing, taking your hand with hers, "I finally get to do something I've wanted to do for a very long time without some kind of big consequence."
Vada's fingers traced patterns on the back of your hand, a silent way of asking for permission, a way that made you felt important to the point you almost missed the glint in her soft eyes and a tug on her mouth.
She reached out and gently cupped your cheek, tilting your head a bit, the simple warmth from her touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Your breath catching in your throat as you looked at her with pure eyes, listening.
"Would it be okay?" She whispered, hesitance evident in her voice, "would it be alright if I…"
Before she could even finish her sentence, you brought your hand up to hers flat on your cheek. With a gentle tug, you pulled her closer with your free arm, the softness of her lips melting against yours as you met them in a gentle kiss.
Both of your hands move over to her shoulders, messaging them slightly as you welcomed Vada's tongue into your mouth, your body tensing almost immediately yet softening when she removed her hands from your face and dragged them down to your waist, pulling you impossibly close to her.
Her lips were gentle, soft, and tender, smiling under yours. She tasted like chapstick mixed with cigarettes, a faint smell of the joint she smoked yet she still smelled so enchanting. You don't know how she does it.
You almost whined when Vada pulled away, familiar eyes staring right back at you. But they looked new. It was filled with love, endearment even, or maybe fondness.
She never looked more beautiful.
It only took a minute of silence before Vada realized what happened. "Are we—are we girlfriends? Well, we just kissed, I mean, I know that, but are we girlfriends girlfriends? I never had a girlfriend before, have you? I mean I guess you did but never a girlfriend. Ohmygod, am I your first girlfriend, holy fuck this really means—"
You laughed before planting a simple kiss on her lips, "Vada, as much as I love your rambling, please don't ruin this moment." You cupped her cheeks, your eyes tracing every single feature she carried.
"Yeah," she nodded, another smile on her mouth, "yeah." She laughed as she shook her head.
"Wait," She stopped you, her hands doing a stop gesture, "but this just technically means that I'm just a rebound? Oh, God, I don't wanna be known as that girl who got with you just hours after you broke up with your boyfriend! What if everyone flames me for it!? Y/n, I love you but wouldn't this ruin your reputation too!? What if they say you cheated on your boyfriend, what if—"
You rolled her eyes and kissed her yet again, "I don't think having a fuck ton of chocolates and flowers stuck inside the backseat of your car and having me in the passenger seat would help your thinking."
"That doesn't really help my situation." She tilted her head, eyebrows creasing.
"I'm saying that we'll keep it hidden, even if you'd be one itch away from telling everyone we're together."
"I wont tell, I promise!" Vada saluted, she always does that. Even before a pinky promise, a salute is always needed.
Not that you didn't feel bad about breaking up with your boyfriend out of the blue, it's just a simple problem that'll lead to a celebration for a broken heart.
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a/n: this was long overdue, sorry i posted it so late!! just seemed like writers block missed me a little bit too much.
Could you possibly do a story where Tara and Y/N get caught in the middle of fucking by Sam??
(Can be Tara x Fem!Reader, Gp!Tara x Fem!Reader, or Tara x Gp!Reader.)
my sister!?
Pairing: Tara Carpenter x GP!Reader
Summary: request!! ^^
Words: 4k
Warnings/tags: immediate smut, pretend the carpenters have a house and not a shared apartment in new york, protective sam carpenter!!!!!, no ghostface au
a/n: writers block is KILLING me, feelin like i cant write shit
masterlist.

An innocent study night with Tara was impossible.
"Tara—Tara, oh f-fuck, you're taking me so well..."
The sight of Tara beneath you should be a sin of its own; tears stinging her eyes locked on yours with mascara running down her cheeks, her soft, abused lipstick-stained lips parting for pathetic notes of moans and whimpers. Strands of hair lay in a mess on her mattress you relentlessly ruined her on every night she asked of you to.
Every sound she made drove you to closer to insanity, knowing you could worship her everyday for every sin you committed since meeting her. The way her body responded to the slightest thrust was intoxicating, addicting—so fucking addicting. Her fingers clutched on her sheets as if they could help her, knuckles turning white.
Tara's eyes fluttered open after rolling back in pure ecstasy, letting out soft moans with your cock fitting so right and full inside of her. She was barely holding out on her own, you were just so fucking hot and sexy like this, who could blame her?
"More," she cried, voice trembling while she wrapped her arms around your neck to bring you closer, "Please—Fuck! Y/n, y/n, please I—"
She moaned your name as if it was a prayer, her voice alone making your knees weak. Her body arched into yours, seeking more—always for more. Even with your hands steady on her hips, she moved with a mind of her own in her cock-drunk state.
Your grip on her waist tightened, fingers almost bruising her perfect, soft skin as you buried yourself deeper inside her. Her name fell shamelessly from your lips as you felt an aching knot forming in your stomach.
"Tara—I'm so... fuck, m' so close..." you breathed, pupils blown out as you locked eyes with her. Her eyes, everything about her was desperate, fuck, you both were.
Tara—breathless and spent from being so stretched—nodded frantically, her lips pathetically opening and closing almost immediately as if she could say anything other than your name and soft moans.
"Close.. close, too." She gulped, breath hitching, eyes rolling to the back of her head, feeling every inch of you so deliciously deep inside of her. "Fuck, don't stop!"
You were so close, so close to feeling Tara's walls clenching against you that could make every sense in your body go dumb fucking weak and numb, your name dangerously on the tip of her tongue while she goes onto levels higher than cloud 9 as you help her ride out her orgasm.
Close, Tara's so close, so close, fuck, fuck fuck—
When you came, Tara came down hard. Her figure perfectly arched as you rocked your hips back and forth inside of her, the both of you falling into silent moans and hot breaths.
"Tara... are you alright? Shit, Tara, you feel so goo..."
A door opened.
"What the fuck."
Sam. Carpenter. Standing.
You. Tara. On. Bed.
Sam Carpenter, Tara Carpenter. Carpenters.
You. Not Carpenter. Definitely not after today.
Sisters. Right-
FUCK.
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How batshit, totally and flat out embarrassing it would be to be caught having rough sex with your girlfriend in the middle of the night at her house when you're supposed to be studying?
No, it would be fine, very fine actually if it was one of the gang. Hell, you'd take Mindy or Chad any day opening the door to see you and Tara fucking around. You'd live with it and wear it like a fucking badge of honor.
If it wasn't her damn sister.
Sam already despised you for being Tara's girlfriend! You couldn't even hold her close for more than thirty seconds without Sam threatening to grab a hammer and bash your skull in.
What's even worse than that is how she led you both down stairs after awkwardly cleaning up and she's now pacing back and forth in front of the couch Sam pushed you on.
"Sam, you're being overdramatic, we're not those sex-obsessed teens that need counseling." Tara, arms crossed with an adorable pout (you'd defend that pout to your last breath), tackled before her sister could even say anything. "I'm 21 for fucks sake!"
"Oh, Tara, don't even get me started—You literally just turned into the legal drinking age two fucking weeks ago!" Sam stopped in her tracks, pointing at Tara with probably the most killer eyes a killer would kill.
"So—!?"
Sam cut her off before Tara could even say anything, her gaze now directed towards you. "And you," oh shit, you were in for it, "My sister!? That's very low of you, Y/n—"
"Oh, y/n was definitely going low on—"
"Yup, okay, no, stop—Tara." You quickly covered Tara's mouth with your hand before she could further damage your already very rocky relationship with Sam. Come on, you still wanted to be invited to Thanksgiving and Christmas!
"Sam." You took a deep breath, "I am truly sorry for… uhm… doing that. I know that you're being protective and I too would hang myself if I ever hurt Tara in anyway—"
"Mostly sexually." Tara chimed in the background, a shit-eating smirk on her face.
Sam tilted her head like some kind of horror movie scare, "Do you wanna explain what the fuck I just heard from my younger sister, y/n?"
"No, no! I haven't hurt Tara in that way, I swear—!"
"Probably because it felt so good."
You turned to Tara, face twisted for dear life, "Tara do you want my ass kicked or not!?"
Sadly for your long-lived lifespan, Sam was already towering over you.
"It was an accident, I promise, and I—!"
"So you just accidentally slipped and magically ended up being inside my sister for hours?"
Okay, maybe suicide really is the better option. How the fuck do you even respond to that!?
"I—" Fuck, shit, fuck, dick, how do you breathe!? "Well, I... I wouldn't phrase it like that—"
"You know the walls are thin?"
"Y..yes, I'm very sure and—"
"The whole damn house was barely holding up, I thought a fucking 9.8 magnitude earthquake started when I opened the door!"
"We... We are so sorry—"
"And you're also sure that I'd eventually slit your throat in half?"
"Sam, please, I really am s—"
"You know I have a fucking taser in my pocket? The only reason that's restraining me from using it because Tara's sees you as someone alright."
"...Uhm, sweet, but Sam—"
You would thank the heavens for such an assertive and a somehow kind of rebellious to her sisters wishes girlfriend by how Tara stood up so abruptly that a very poor and sad excuse of an excuse in your mind went away.
"You want an apology, Sam?" She tilted her head as she stepped forward, "I'll give you a fucking apology." You know, for a 5 foot nothing girl, she can definitely throw hands. Or words.
"We... are sorry. Actually, Y/n's—"
"Oh my god." You whined in the background.
"Y/n's very sorry for fucking—"
"Okay, no, stop." You interrupted immediately. Why the term!? Infront of her sister!?
"Having sex—!"
"No."
"Intercourse—!"
"No."
"Having... Having coitus—!"
"No, why the hell would you use that!?"
"Making love!"
"Best you could do."
"Y/n's very sorry for being so damn good making love to me in bed, making my mattress squeak louder than a fucking banshee with her cock ramming and giving me multiple orgasms that Danny can't even—!"
"Alllright, I'm stopping you before you get legally disowned at the age of 21" You grabbed Tara by her arms and lifted her up before your entire sex life with her comes tumbling down on your girlfriends sister.
The room was silent. Almost too silent, you swear you could go deaf if more than a second even passes by. Not even a rolling surge of tumbleweed could make it seem less awkward than it is. Even your dignity left.
That was until you heard Sam taking a deep breath.
Before you knew it, you were kicked out of the house with Tara's voice behind you literally defending by describing, in horrific detail, how good you were in bed until Sam shut her up.
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The walk home was and felt downright shameful, even the traffic lights refused to turn green for you. It's like you have a bindle attached to your palms to forever ingrain the memory of Sam's face while you were literally inches deep in Tara.
You crash into your apartment a minute later after fiddling with your keys, not even bothering to take off your coat. You just collapse onto the atleast comfortable carpet floor and let the mites decompose your entire body.
But not even god himself can let you mellow in your own embarrassment, sadness, awkwardness—literally all of the above—without your phone ringing at one of the worst times in your life. Soon you'll hope it'll be seven trumpets.
You blinked from your spot on the floor. It was too good and too much effort to even sit up properly and take the call.
With a soft groan, you roll over like a ragdoll, fumbling for your phone deep in your pockets. You were ready to decline right there and there, or maybe be a dick and answer just to hang up a second later after swearing at them.
Until you saw the name Tara Carpenter with a heart emoji beside it.
Of course, against your better judgment, you answer. How could you not?
"Can you come over?"
Tara's soft voice whispers over the phone, you can almost picture her twisting and turning on her bed, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.
You sigh heavily, managing to croak out a response, "Tara... you know I can't—"
"Please?"
You swallow hard, heart pounding in your chest. She's using that voice that you're so sure could lead to you prison. You're just so glad you're not there in person to see her beautiful brown doe eyes.
You stand up abruptly, clearing your throat. "It's only been 30 minutes since Sam caught us and practically banished me from your home. How am I supposed to—"
"It’s like you’ve never snuck out before!"
"This time it’s serious, Tara! Pretty sure Sam literally hates my guts by now."
There's a pause that interrupts your thoughts, the line going completely silent, wondering if Tara got so irritated she actually hung up on you.
"...Tara?"
"I have windows." She responds, as if she's snapping her two fingers together, "You can sneak in through one."
You smiled. Of course she'd think of this now when all the times you've "snuck" in was through their door (surprisingly, it always worked in the middle of the night.)
"Thought Sam nailed them shut after hearing about a loose serial killer?"
"Found out it’s bullshit, just some teenagers having the trip to scare people for fun. Just—Please."
You roll your eyes, "Okay, well, I'm not going to risk my life—"
"You already are, I can hear you over the phone packing your shit."
Oh, how this girl knows you so well.
You zip up your bag while having your phone pinched between your ear and shoulder, "Yeah, see you in a bit."
The brunette chuckles over your words, you could already see her standing up and opening her window from the sounds you hear. Heavenly.
"Damn, you love me."
"Horribly. Say it back?"
"I will when you get here. Hurry, please."
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It took a long while to reach the Carpenters' house and even longer to actually go up to Tara's window. Climbing a nearby tree and swinging over like Tarzan was a real pain in the ass.
When you finally reach her window, you see Tara lying on her bed, headphones blaring so loudly you can hear the music from outside, plus she's wearing an oversized graphic tee that you're pretty sure is yours.
"Tara!" you call out, knocking on the side of the wall, your shoes gripping the bricks as you wait for her to notice your figure clinging onto a roof for dear life just outside.
Tara doesn't hear you at first, courtesy of the headphones you bought her for her 18th birthday. You knocked a bit louder, but not too loud Sam suspects something.
You have half a mind to just go in unannounced when Tara finally looks up and immediately rushes over your side.
"You know, it's actually harsh to keep a girl wai—"
You were wrapped between her arms before you could even finish.
Tara's lips met yours in a way you melt instantly beneath her breathless, parting her lips and tilting her head to give herself better access inside of you.
She's soft in your arms, yet so eager by how she's gripping the collar of your shirt and pulling you as if you could be any more entwined.
"You kept me waiting." She breaks only to whisper, words coming in a rasp with her breath hot on your lips as she draws you in for more of her.
You're dizzy, hazed, intoxicated, completely fucked by how her tongue presses on yours so painfully heavenly and her teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. You could stumble around your words if she let you to speak. Your hands could go nowhere but on their perfect place on her waist.
Her fingers trail against your skin, tangling within the strands of hair only to pull you more closer to her, forcing your head to tilt at an angle that could make her invade all the right places inside of you.
You sigh in her mouth before regrettably pushing her away, "You wanted to see me?"
Tara's lips curve as she she presses herself against you, her hands traveling from your chest to your face, brushing her fingers gently against your cheek. The mere motion sending cold shivers down your spine that reminds you of your cock slowly growing beneath layers of fabric.
"Fuck that, I needed you." She murmurs, your heart running faster than the way her breathing goes after making out with you. Her hands seemingly wanting nothing more than to roam over your body, tracing all the way down to palm your growing erection underneath your shorts.
A low groan escaped your lips, yours hands finding their way down to softly cup the curve of her ass. "Tara please, don't..."
"Hm," she hums softly, brown eyes filled with nothing but lost gazing directly at your own, "You know I can't resist you, especially when I have you like this," Her voice is teasing. Tantalizing, even, marked with an innocent smile on her face as if she's not an inch away of giving you a handjob.
A chaste peck on your lips was enough for you to spiral and your dick to throb from its clothed prison, her fingers tracing lazy circles around your cock until she stopped at the dip of the waistbands of your shorts.
"You wanna fuck me first, or should I take the lead?"
Your mind raced, cock twitching from her voice alone, words spent while your breathing was anything but calm, pupils blown out and dilated as you looked at the brunette. But there's only one answer that she needed from you.
Without a word, your hands slid under her thighs, effortlessly lifting her up from the floor and straddling her figure down to her ass at your arms, earning a startled hum from the girl.
Her arms went around your neck, one hand trailing from your nape to the strands of your hair, pulling your head closer to her, meeting your lips in an immediate kiss that had Tara moaning and desperately bucking her hips.
You carried her to bed with her legs wrapped tightly around your waist while her hands lingered on your neck, fingers delicately tracing your jawline while she ravished your mouth alone.
Tara was sloppy with you, kisses so wet and desperate, her tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. She was filthy by how she gazed at you with eyes as if she was innocent, how she let her fingers roam your body in all the right places that had your dick leaking.
With a soft groan, you laid her down on the bed, your hands moving to grip her hips as she continued to explore your mouth, not once did she pull away. Not even to spare a breath.
But, you surrendered to her, pulling her away with a string of saliva connecting your lips together.
Fuck, she looked divine.
A sight you always saw in the middle of the night, yet not even the light could take you away from her. Lips stained with mixed saliva from the both of you. Even with your own inches away, her lips stay parted as she pants for air.
It took you a while before you even noticed Tara and you were completely naked, the small girl revealing to be wearing nothing the whole time you were there.
"Shit, Tara. You were wearing nothing but my shirt?" You rasped, breathing heavily while you placed your arms in between her head to push yourself up.
She smiled, chuckled even as she looked at you, hands traveling from your neck down to your chest, "You know I love putting on a show for you, baby." She winked as her fingers ghosted over your nipples, touch so warm and delicate before sliding lower, tracing the lines of your abs. "Fuck, you're so hot like this."
You shivered underneath her touch, even forgetting you were the one who brought her to such a state, yet you were the one who looked pathetic. Whining and completely whimpering on top of her.
You swallow hard, trying to maintain even the slightest bit of dignity and control. "Tara," you whisper, "You're driving me crazy."
She giggles softly, "Good," she murmurs before grasping your wrist and guiding your hand to the waistband of your shorts. "That's exactly what I want to do. Just fuck me, please."
You couldn't hold back any longer as you pulled down your shorts, boxers sliding down your waist as your aching cock springing out, slapping against your chest while it stood tall and hard for seven inches.
Your hand slipped between your bodies to grasp the throbbing length, tip dripping with pre-cum as your thumb grazed over the slit. "Wanna see how good you take me, Tara." You wrapped your fingers around your cock, stroking it up and down as you guided it along her slick folds. "Fuck, you're soaked."
"Stop… Stop teasing, please, oH GOD!"
Tara's hands frantically had a tight grip on your shoulders as you shoved every inch of you inside of her, breath erratic as she tried to suppress every moan down in her throat, her back arching off the bed as you penetrated her so deep
The intense stretch made her eyes flutter open, rolling into the back of head, letting out tears from the pain as her toes curled in pleasure.
You weren't holding up either, she took you so well, her red velvety and slick walls tightening around your cock drove you into a haze. Her nails leaving red marks in their wake on your back, the atmosphere filled with the sounds of skin against skin, gasps and moans of pleasure from Tara increasingly getting louder.
"F-fuck… Oh, fuck!" She gasped, moving her hips to the rhythm of her trusts as you grabbed both of her legs and pulled her closer to you, "Yeah.. Yeah, right there baby!"
All you could think about were her soft moans, face crying from a mixture of pain and pleasure from being stuffed to the brim, keeping a steady pace that had her a moaning mess on your hands.
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You know, Sam always had weird dreams. Weirder than the next, gory than anything from the amount of horror movies she watched along with her younger sister, Tara.
Anything you could do to Sam, she would barely give one or two fucks. Scary movie? More of a boring sit-com that tries to give characters motive and plot some development. Jumpscare her? Reality or movies, either way, you're getting a jumpscare yourself by a hospital bill after she's done with you.
She fears nothing. Except when she woke up just now, hearing her younger sisters voice down the hallway from her room.
Oh my fucking, GOD.
She hopes it'll be a dream, she'd take anything but this. Ever since Tara got a girlfriend, you were nothing but a pain in the ass for her. I mean, she trusts you, sure, but not that enough.
The older Carpenter gets up almost immediately, eyebrows furrowed while her heart heaved with anger. And most probably wrath, and an apology to Tara if she ever found out that her girlfriend was bashed on the skull by her sister.
Every walk she made, the noises got louder yet softer. By the time she was at her door, the noises dropped. Was it all a dream? A nightmare maybe? She'd take that any day.
"Tara!" She yelled out as she took notice of the light illuminating on the creaks of her room., softly knocking on her door. Even if you were there, it's still a 50/50 chance that Tara's actually sleeping. Or sleepwalking even.
She waits for a second.
Then two.
Three.
Four—Okay, no, she's opening the damn door.
She turns the doorknob and immediately bursts into the room. Her eyes scanning the space for any signs of you.
There doesn't seem to be anything.
Her eyes immediately spotted Tara. Or maybe half of her peeking out of the soft blanket with a pillow in between her legs. The only thing that seemed out of place was her window open.
She was about to move a lazy strand of hair away from her face, her hand was already hovering over her body. That was until Tara moved on her own. Murmuring something about some TV show. Or a cinema date, whatever it is that involved your godforsaken name.
"Thank God, that scared me." Sam whispered to herself before going over to Tara's bed, eyes still wandering over Tara's sleeping (?) face before standing up and leaving the room.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You popped out of the blanket that was covering both you and Tara after giving her one of the best orgasms she's ever had. But the heart attack you both experienced when you heard Sam's footsteps was not fucking it!
A tense breath escapes your lips, relief flooding through you as you look at Tara, post-orgasm. Her eyes are dazed, a silly smile adorning her face.
"Tara, seriously, do you never lock your doors?" you whisper to her, arms sliding on her back to flip the both of you over. Your hands cupping her cheeks, trailing her jawline while you tucked a strand of hair behind her ears.
Tara's laughter rings out softly in the quiet, her cheeks flushed with her chest heaving. There was always something you loved about her smile, her laugh. Sure it was because it was like a taste of heaven as some pathetic human, but… Dimples. Dim-fucking-ples.
She rolls her eyes, letting her head fall on your collarbone. "I have Sam Carpenter in my bloodline, it's pointless."
"Don't be so hard on her." You stroke her hair gently, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "She's just looking out for you," you remind her, tone soft with understanding.
She sighs against your skin. "She's overdoing it. Like, I can throw a punch. Did you not see the fight I pulled with that dick from a party in the middle of nowhere may I remind you? I could've sworn Mindy sent the video to you!"
"Yeah Tara, but you're also an A24 chick who could memorize the full script of The Babadook, I love you for it baby." You laughed. "But Sam is just looking out for you. Especially me, I literally just fucked her sister in her house."
Tara looks up at you. Batting her eyelashes and smirking while she tilted her head, planting a chaste kiss near your lips, but not near enough you could taste her. "And you fucked her so well."
"We are not having another round, Tara."
"You know me so well it's fucking irritating. Can you just not?" She scoffs, but only playfully.
"But you actually should lock them, it's a safety hazard."
"Mhm, and you should let me ride you." She turns to the side, falling over your body, her hands tracing the soft dips and your toned abs.
"After that heart attack? No, Tara."
"Yeah?" She cocked her head, "Then why not give me more reasons why you're still hard."
"Oh..." You looked down. Fuck, you are. "Oh, fuck you."
"I'm hoping you will."
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head before turning to her side, "By the way, you never said the thing."
She wrapped her arms around your body as you faced her. "Oh, what thing this time, baby?"
You sigh.
"I love you."
Tara laughs. She knew what you wanted.
"I love you too."
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a/n: im back!
❝Charming Tease❞
based on the idea: "playful teasing and bickering"

★ witty banter: Tara and you are experts at playful teasing and engaging in witty banter. Whether it's a casual conversation or a serious discussion, you both find ways to inject humor and light-hearted teasing, making even the most mundane situations enjoyable;
★ endless puns: the two of you can't resist a good pun, and you often engage in a pun-off, trying to outdo each other with clever wordplay. It becomes a delightful competition to see who can come up with the most punny jokes;
★ competitive games: whether it's board games, video games, or any kind of challenge, you both get into a playful rivalry. The competition gets fierce, but it's all in good fun, and you both enjoy the thrill of trying to one-up each other;
★ good-natured mocking: Tara and you have a unique way of showing affection through good-natured mocking. You both know each other's quirks and playfully tease each other about them, knowing it's all in jest and that you still deeply care for one another;
★ sarcastic remarks: sarcasm is your shared language, and you often engage in sarcastic exchanges that leave others around you wondering if you're serious or not. It's your way of connecting on a level where you can be yourselves without any pretense;
★ playful pranks: the two of you enjoy pulling harmless pranks on each other, adding an element of surprise and laughter to your daily interactions. From silly practical jokes to lighthearted tricks, it keeps your relationship dynamic and exciting;
★ mock debates: Tara and you love to engage in mock debates, where you take opposing sides on trivial topics and argue your points passionately, even if you secretly agree with each other. It's an opportunity to sharpen your communication skills and have fun at the same time;
★ inside jokes: over time, you've accumulated a treasure trove of inside jokes that only the two of you understand. These jokes become your secret language, a source of amusement that strengthens your bond and creates a sense of intimacy;
★ teasing encounters: when you're around friends or colleagues, you take every chance to lightly tease each other, leading to genuine laughter and a warm atmosphere. Others can't help but smile at the playfulness you share;
★ reconciliation with laughter: even after small disagreements or minor arguments, you both find a way to reconcile through humor. Making each other laugh becomes the bridge that brings you back together, reinforcing the strong connection you share.
anything with dom!reader & sub!tara pls 🥺🥺 (g!p if it's possible)
❝Ardent❞
TW: porn content, mature, +18 Be part of the tag list and posting schedule - TAG LIST E SCHEDULE ★ This is my first time writing something mature/pornographic, so please, bear with me.

You watched intently as Tara knelt in front of you, her doe-like gaze was defiant and carried the simple promise of resistance. A sinuous smile snaked across her lips, as if it were the secret key to an unfathomable enigma, a hint of knowledge shared only between them. You knew that she, like a butterfly thirsty for nectar, craved a challenge. With a simple gesture of your hand, you made her stand up and move closer, each step more hesitant as she came closer to your control
Sliding his fingers with the delicacy of a feather over Tara's skin, he seemed to conduct a symphony of secret longings. Each caress was a note, a whispered promise of submission that echoed like a forbidden melody in her senses. Tara felt as if she were being guided by a desire as deep as the mysteries of life and death, shuddering under his control, her sharp gaze slowly yielding. Tilting your head with determination, as if you were a conqueror approaching your most desired prize, you captured Tara's lips in an ardent and possessive kiss. Each meeting of your lips was like the fusion of two elements, an incendiary chemistry that enveloped you. Savoring the sensation of power that flowed between them, as if it were the very essence of life, she plunged deeply into the kiss, as if she were unlocking the secrets of the universe with every touch of her tongue and deepening into that abyss of shared passion.
Tara moaned, any remnants of her resistance disappearing completely as you guided her effortlessly, exploring every inch of her body with skillful, precise touches. Each union of your mouths and touches was like the fusion of two souls on fire, an intense dance that consumed them. Savoring the taste of the power that flowed between them, as if it were an elixir from the gods. The atmosphere in the room seemed charged with electricity, as if the invisible threads of desire were stretched to the limit. Reader, with eyes sparkling with determination, was determined to lead them to the point of no return, like a fearless explorer venturing into the unknown. His aim was to explore the limits of Tara's submission, like a curious alchemist mixing forbidden ingredients. It had been a long time since Tara had felt such an intense connection and desire, such a great need to give herself completely, to surrender completely to another person and never again have to worry about someone controlling her. She felt her restraint disappearing, and she knew that no one but Leitor would be able to stop her control from disintegrating when she finally broke free.
Your tongue slid sensuously over Tara's lower lip, coaxing her to open up to you. She moaned softly and opened her mouth wider. This is what you wanted. The moment you were alone, you would take Tara, make love to her, make her yours and show everyone. So you licked her tender lips, taking advantage of the fact that you were apart, nibbling and nibbling on her lips, before pulling away slightly, letting Tara know that you wanted to come into her mouth, that she had to obey you if you wanted this to go any further. And Tara really wanted this to go ahead, desperately wanting to show him that she loved him, that there had never been any doubt about that. Tara's arms encircled her and squeezed her neck as she pressed herself against his body, seeking the intimate contact needed to deepen their connection.
She reached down and groped your ass, her thumb stroking lightly through your pants, as she tugged playfully on your hair, trying desperately to pull you deeper into her mouth. You smiled mischievously at her attempt, knowing full well that it only encouraged her to continue with greater ferocity. You shifted the kiss slightly to one side, sucking on her lower lip until she let out a sigh. You pulled away and looked deep into her dark brown eyes and whispered, "Tell me you belong to me." Tara nodded wordlessly, tears streaming from behind her long, curved lashes.
"Good girl. I want you to know how much your obedience means to me," you purred seductively, using your gift with skill and delicacy, caressing every inch of Tara's skin with a touch that conveyed a desire for obedience. She moaned softly under his control.
Pushing her backwards until her legs hit the bed behind her, his fingers trailed down her thighs, leaving a tingling trail as he slowly opened her jeans. Her panties joined those already discarded somewhere under the bed. No matter. She wouldn't be leaving until the morning anyway. Removing her tight tank top, along with her lacy bra, he pulled out his cell phone and took a quick picture of her exposed bare breasts, then quickly put it away, turning to kiss her belly. A low grunt escaped your throat as you nibbled on her navel and tasted her sweetness and then the sweet juice that coated your fingers when you slipped them inside her pussy. She shuddered at your touch, her muscles tightening. You continued to tease and stroke her slowly until she was panting and begging, needing to break free of her own torment and the pressure that was growing inside her. With his fingers still sliding over her swollen clitoris and sending shocks of sensation to every nerve ending, he stared hungrily at her face as he began to kiss her. He kissed her deeply and passionately as he slipped his fingers inside her, filling her with the first hint of pleasure they had experienced since... well, ever, really. It wasn't long before you were moaning in ecstasy again as Tara rubbed her thumbs over your hardened nipples through your blouse. You moaned loudly, reaching between your bodies and grasping her breasts tightly, your thumbs lightly touching the nipple, you were in control and she needed to know it. She moaned softly again, arching her back against you and moving her hips against the palm of your hand. Your fingers pumped inside her rapidly, driving her wild with desire.
When she climaxed, her teeth clenched and she screamed, her orgasm so strong that Tara clung to her shoulders. Her climax was followed by a wave of euphoria, so strong and intense that it almost knocked her over. You lay on your side, feeling as if you were floating above the earth, as if you were somehow connected to everyone and everything that existed, to everything and anything that might come your way. Reciting words of love and affection, you both fell asleep like puppies in a pile of duvets.
You were woken by the sound of a door closing. You frowned, confused, wondering who it could be. It wasn't that late, the sun was barely on the horizon, and there was no one who should be awake at this hour either. "Shh, don't wake up," said a low voice, "It's still early, let's go to sleep."
Ah, she was, the symphony in the form of a person, and the personification of a Greek goddess, his wife, his soul mate, body and soul.
★ TAG LIST - @emadarkblog
Redemption

Sequel to Solace
Pairings: Tara Carpenter x Fem! Reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Hurt again, angst, some fluff
Warnings: violence, stabbing, character death
Word Count: 7.4k
Authors Note: thanks so much for all the patience you’ve shown me, I’m been very stressed these past few days with uni quickly approaching I’ve had no time to write, if you like this, I might make a third part about the final act. Hope you all enjoy

As (Y/n) lay quietly by Tara's side, her heart weighed heavy with guilt and love, as she gently caressed Tara's hair, trying to be a source of comfort in the dimly lit hospital room. Her fingers moved with tender care, tracing soothing patterns as she whispered words of reassurance. The events of the night replayed in her mind like a haunting melody, the fight they had before the attack now etched in her memory, making her ache with regret. She knew there was no way she could have predicted what would happen, but the guilt gnawed at her nonetheless.
Tara's eyes struggled to stay open, the exhaustion from the ordeal pulling her into a dreamless slumber. Her body was weak, but the warmth of (Y/n)'s touch gave her a sense of solace amid the chaos. The room remained enveloped in a profound silence, broken only by the faint hum of hospital equipment, and the gentle symphony of Tara's quiet breaths. (Y/n)'s heart swelled with love, vowing never to leave Tara's side again. She had come so close to losing the person she cherished most, and the fear of that loss had shaken her to her core.
The tranquility of the hospital room was shattered by the sound of frantic footsteps racing toward the door. Tara's heart pounded, her body tensing in anticipation. Despite the pain that shot through her as she attempted to sit up, she refused to remain vulnerable and defenseless. Beside her, (Y/n) held her hand tightly, her expression a mix of worry and determination.
The door swung open, and their friends burst into the room, a rush of relief and concern on their faces. (Y/n) stayed by Tara's side, never letting go of her hand, a steady anchor in the whirlwind of emotions. Wes stood at the foot of the bed, trying to sound confident in an attempt to reassure Tara that everything was under control.
"Don't worry, Tara. My mom's got everything under control," Wes said, his voice trying to sound reassuring, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "She's conducting interviews, and there's a curfew in place to keep everyone safe."
Chad chimed in with his own contribution, his tone tinged with sarcasm, "Yeah, Sheriff Hicks even interviewed me. Amber here thought I was the killer because of some football bruises!"
Amber raised her arms defensively, "I was just stating the facts. It's always someone you know, right?"
(Y/n) sighed loudly, interrupting the argument, her frustration evident. "Guys, seriously! This is the last thing Tara needs right now. If you're going to argue about petty things, just leave!"
The group fell into an uncomfortable silence, but it didn't last long. Mindy spoke up, her words laced with suspicion, "If we're going by Stab rules, how do we know it's not the love interest? I mean, isn't that what always happens?"
(Y/n)'s glare could have cut through steel, feeling hurt and betrayed that one of her closest friends could suggest such a thing. Tara squeezed her hand gently, offering her comfort and assurance. "It couldn't have been her," Tara said, her voice soft but firm. "(Y/n) was texting me the entire time. She scared off the killer before they..." Her voice trailed off as the memories of the terrifying ordeal washed over her, the pain and fear still fresh in her mind.
(Y/n) swallowed hard, her guilt gnawing at her. She knew she couldn't have arrived any earlier, but she still blamed herself for not being there to protect Tara. "I feel guilty enough for not being there in the first place," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "Please, can we talk about something else?"
As Chad tried to change the topic, the door to the room burst open once again, revealing a familiar face. Everyone stood on defence only to see Tara's sister Sam, she had changed a lot since (Y/n) had seen her last, her eyes were more sunken in, she had lost all the baby fat on her cheeks, but she had looked much healthier. (Y/n) could see the look of longing and relief that had rushed over Sams face seeing her sister, all beat up in the hospital bed.
"Sam?"
As the door swung open, the occupants of the room stood up abruptly, shock and surprise etched across their faces. Amber's expression seemed to hold a mixture of disdain and disbelief. It was no secret that Amber harbored resentment toward Sam for leaving her family abruptly, and (Y/n) couldn't shake the feeling that there was a hidden reason behind it all, something she couldn't quite fathom.
"You came?" Tara's voice was almost a whisper, carrying a mix of astonishment and emotion. Tara's eyes raked over Sam's features, as if trying to take in every detail she had missed during their time apart. In that moment, the absence of their mother, who had yet to visit, seemed insignificant. Sam was here, (Y/n) was here, and Tara was not alone anymore. "Of course I came. This is my boyfriend, Richie."
Richie offered a polite smile and extended his hand. "It's nice to meet you, and I'm sorry if I'm intruding." Tara managed a small grin, finding Sam's newfound openness endearing. She replied, "It's nice to meet you too." Richie seemed a bit awkward, almost hovering by the door, a stance that (Y/n) understood – he was an outsider in a situation fraught with tension. Sam went around the room, exchanging hugs with the friends who had become like family to Tara. She turned back to Richie, who appeared even more nervous now. A soft smile played on her lips. "These are Chad and Mindy, the twins, and Wes. I used to babysit them all."
(Y/n)'s gaze shifted to Richie, who seemed uncomfortable, fidgeting with the string on his backpack. An odd intuition nudged her, suggesting something was off about him, but she dismissed it as her own apprehension. Sam's call to her name brought her back to reality. "And (Y/n)'s been friends with Tara for as long as I can remember!" (Y/n) offered a smile, her grip on Tara's hand tightening briefly. "Girlfriend now, actually," she said, emphasizing the change in their relationship status. Tara's smile echoed the sentiment.
Sam's attention shifted to Amber, who stood opposite (Y/n) near Tara's bedside. She greeted her, only to receive a reluctant response. (Y/n) couldn't help but notice that Richie had only introduced himself back to Amber. Odd, she thought. The conversation turned to their absent mother, and Sam's inquiry highlighted her noticeable absence. Tara began to explain, "She's stuck at a conference in London, she called me earlier-"
Amber, ever the blunt one, cut her off, a clear note of resentment in her voice. "For all of ten minutes." Tara's gaze dropped to her lap, struggling to hold back her tears. The impact of Amber's words resonated through the room, prompting Amber to change the subject hastily. "Look, guys, Tara's really tired. Maybe we should just give her some space?"
The room seemed to agree in unison, with everyone beginning to leave. Tara's words, however, halted Sam. "Not you, Sam. I want you to stay." Sam's surprise was evident, but she nodded, her eyes welling up with gratitude. (Y/n) remained rooted by Tara's side, determined not to leave her.
"If it's okay with you, I can sleep here tonight?" Sam's voice was gentle, filled with the understanding that she was walking on fragile ground. Tara offered a smile, her heart warmed by her sister's presence. "I'd really like that."
(Y/n) reached out and took Sam's hand, offering her a genuine smile. "I'm glad you're here, Sam."
A soft shuffle drew their attention to Amber, who was still in the room. Leaning down to Tara's side, she whispered, "Do you have your extra inhaler?" Tara reassured her, and Amber left, with Richie following suit, his unease palpable.
As the door closed behind them, (Y/n) turned her attention back to Tara, her grip on Sam's hand not loosening.
Looking back to the sisters, (Y/n) noticed the intense exchange of looks between them, a telltale sign that a very private moment was about to unfold. As Tara's body trembled, (Y/n) instinctively moved closer, her presence offering a silent promise of comfort and support.
Tara's emotions began to well up, and (Y/n) could tell she was on the brink of tears. With a gentle shift, she positioned herself closer to Tara, her arm finding a reassuring place atop Tara's intertwined hands. The sisters seemed to exist in their own world, yet (Y/n)'s presence was a steady anchor, a reminder that they were not alone in this moment of vulnerability.
"Sam, I was so scared," Tara's voice quivered, the vulnerability in her tone exposing the depth of her feelings. Sam immediately slipped into her role as the older sister, tenderly brushing a strand of hair away from Tara's face and holding her close. (Y/n)'s touch provided an additional layer of comfort, a subtle gesture of solidarity that only she and Sam could offer.
"I know," Sam's voice was a soothing balm, a simple affirmation that carried the weight of understanding.

(Y/n)'s eyes fluttered open as the door to the hospital room closed with a soft click, momentarily rousing her from a light slumber. Her gaze scanned the room, searching for any signs of movement or activity. The absence of Sam's presence in the chair next to Tara's bedside was noticeable, but (Y/n) assumed she had stepped out briefly, perhaps for a bathroom break. She allowed her eyes to drift shut again, intent on drifting back into a peaceful doze.
However, her tranquility was shattered like fragile glass when a quiet scream sliced through the air, instantly jolting her into a state of wide-eyed alertness. Her heart raced, and her body tensed as she sat up in bed, the remnants of sleep clinging to her senses. Her gaze honed in on the corner of the room, where Richie was seated, his head bowed, eyes glued to the screen of his iPad. The chilling atmosphere was heightened by the unmistakable sounds of a horror movie playing – sounds she recognized all too well.
Confusion and alarm etched across her features as she tried to make sense of the situation. The eerie background noises were unmistakably from one of the "Stab" movies – a franchise born from the real-life horrors the town of Woodboro had endured, which has resulted in Tara's unfortunate circumstances. Her voice trembled slightly as she found the words to break the silence that had descended like a heavy fog.
"What is it? What's wrong?" she demanded urgently, her eyes locked onto Richie's figure, searching for any signs of explanation or rationality. His sudden shift in attention, his fingers hovering over the iPad's screen, was a testament to her abrupt intrusion into whatever he was engrossed in.
Richie's gaze lifted from the screen, his eyes wide with surprise at being caught. He seemed momentarily flustered by her presence and her questions, his attempt at playing it off failing to mask his unease.
(Y/n)'s frown deepened as the unsettling sounds of the movie reached her ears once again. She couldn't deny the familiar disquiet that they stirred within her, the haunting echoes of the past becoming tangible in the present. "Are you watching... Stab?" Her voice held a mix of incredulity and incredulousness. It was as if her mind couldn't quite grasp the reality of the situation – the fact that Richie, someone on the outskirts of their ordeal, would be voluntarily subjecting himself to this eerie re of trauma.
A shy, almost apologetic smile tugged at the corners of Richie's lips. It was a blend of embarrassment and hesitation, like a person caught red-handed in the act of something they knew wouldn't be well-received. "It's on Netflix," he explained, as if the familiarity of the streaming platform justified his choice of entertainment.
(Y/n)'s puzzled look lingered, her brow furrowing as she tried to understand the reasoning behind his actions. His next words only added to her confusion. "I want to be prepared in case—"
An exasperated sigh escaped her lips before she could even stop herself. Her frustration at the bizarre scenario was palpable, and she found herself standing up from her seat with an urgency that demanded an explanation. She was careful not to disturb Tara, who continued to sleep soundly nearby. "If you wanted to be prepared, you'd be on Wikihow," she retorted, her tone a mix of sarcasm and annoyance. With a quiet but determined resolve, she left the room, needing a breather from the disconcerting situation that had unraveled before her.
The tension in the air seemed to cling to her as she stepped into the corridor, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and bewilderment. The strange confluence of events left her grappling with a sense of unease, a nagging feeling that there was more to Richie's actions than met the eye. She couldn't shake the distrust that had taken root, like a seed of doubt that had been planted deep within her mind.
Navigating the hospital's corridors, (Y/n)'s steps were measured and her thoughts a mixture of concern and confusion. She couldn't shake off the unsettling encounter with Richie, his bizarre fixation on watching horror movies as some twisted form of preparation. She needed a moment to herself, a sip of water perhaps, to distance herself from the eerie undercurrents that seemed to be flowing through the hospital.
Approaching the break room, the quiet hum of the hallway was disrupted by an alarming cacophony emanating from within. Banging, clattering, and muffled grunts created an eerie symphony that sent shivers down her spine. Perplexed, she slowed her steps, her curiosity warring with her instinct to flee the chaos.
Just as she was about to reach for the door handle, the scene before her shifted in a blur of motion. Sam burst out of the room, her features a mask of shock and desperation. (Y/n) barely had time to react as Sam collided with her, the impact sending her sprawling to the floor. Sam's startled face met hers, their eyes locking in a brief moment of shared astonishment.
(Y/n) felt Sam's arms gripping her own, attempting to pull her up in the midst of their collision. The urgency of Sam's movements hinted at a deeper turmoil, a frantic need to escape whatever had transpired within the break room. But their awkward positioning and the chaos of the situation only added to the confusion.
In the midst of the chaos, the attempt to stand turned into a clumsy shuffle, a precarious dance of limbs and urgency. Sam's grip faltered, and (Y/n) found herself slipping from her grasp. As if guided by a malevolent force, Sam's foot landed in an unfortunate spot, her heel connecting with (Y/n)'s temple in a jarring impact.
Pain exploded through (Y/n)'s head, and her vision blurred as a high-pitched ringing echoed in her ears. The world around her swirled in a disorienting haze, and she struggled to make sense of what was happening. A blurry figure moved in the periphery of her vision – Ghostface.
As abruptly as the chaos had begun, it ended. Ghostface retreated, leaving behind an unsettling void. (Y/n) remained on the floor, dazed and immobilized by the shock of the encounter. The echoes of Sam's pleas and the ominous sounds of struggle gradually faded, replaced by the hospital's familiar, muted hum.
Amid the disorientation, a nurse arrived on the scenel. (Y/n) blinked, her vision gradually clearing as the nurse's calm voice and gentle touch reassured her. With the nurse's support, (Y/n) managed to rise from the floor, the ache in her temple a persistent reminder of the chaotic collision.
Guided by the nurse, (Y/n) walked, her steps unsteady, back to Tara's hospital room. Tara's attack, the encounter with Richie, the tumult in the break room, it all felt like an eerie dream that she couldn't quite shake off.

(Y/n)'s head throbbed mercilessly, each step feeling like a hammer strike against her temples. The hospital's harsh lights pierced through her skull, sending shockwaves of pain radiating in all directions. She squinted, her hand instinctively shielding her eyes from the blinding assault. As the door to the hospital room drew near, her gaze shifted to Richie, who stood outside with an eerie intensity. His arms were crossed, his ear pressed against the door – a disturbing sight that set her on edge.
Intent on addressing Richie's unsettling behavior, (Y/n) was about to confront him when a sudden, shrill voice rent the air, tearing through the tense silence.
"GET THE FUCK OUT!"
Tara's raw, strained voice reverberated, piercing through the room like a knife. The scene froze, every person in the vicinity arrested by the unexpected outburst. Even the deputy stationed by the door widened his eyes in surprise. Richie, his demeanor shifting from curiosity to apprehension, swiftly moved out of the doorframe. (Y/n)'s light steps closed the gap between her and the unfolding situation, her heart pounding in anticipation.
With a strange sense of déjà vu, the door opened before her hand could even touch the handle. Sam stood before her, her face marred by blotchy redness and tear tracks. Clearly shaken by whatever had transpired inside the room, her eyes traced a path from the floor to (Y/n)'s face, finally settling on the bandaged temple. A quiet sniffle escaped Sam, her voice trembling as she spoke through her emotions.
"I'm sorry," (Y/n)'s lips curved into a small, reassuring smile, her gesture aimed at offering comfort amidst the chaos. She gently reassured Sam of her well-being before guiding her aside, her focus shifting to the heart of the storm – Tara.
Tara sat on the bed, her demeanor distant and lost in thought. Her gaze seemed to penetrate through everything, fixated on some invisible point in the distance. (Y/n) recognized that look – it was the expression of someone grappling with a truth too painful to fully comprehend. It was a mix of disbelief and realization, a storm of emotions brewing beneath a seemingly calm surface.
Whatever Sam had divulged in that room had clearly struck a deep chord within Tara. The weight of that revelation hung heavily in the air, casting a pall over the room and enveloping everyone in its shadow. (Y/n)'s heart went out to Tara, her desire to be a source of solace stronger than ever. As she approached the bed, she sent Tara a gentle, supportive look, silently offering her presence.
(Y/n) held Tara tightly, feeling the tremors coursing through her body as tears soaked her shoulder. Tara's voice wavered as she struggled to find words in the midst of her emotional turmoil.
"Why, (Y/n)? Why did Sam lie? Why did my mom keep this from me?"
(Y/n)'s own voice was laden with confusion as she held Tara closer, her heart aching for her girlfriend. "I don't know what you're talking about, Tara."
Tara's grip on (Y/n) tightened, as if she was seeking an anchor in the midst of the storm. "He was a killer, a psychopath. How could she be Billy Loomis' daughter?"
(Y/n)'s brows furrowed, her mind grappling to make sense of the pieces Tara was unveiling. Her mind was racing, trying to piece together the puzzle of their shattered reality. "Wait, are you saying Sam is... Billy Loomis' daughter?"
Tara's voice cracked, a mixture of anger and sorrow. "And my mom... how could she let me believe Sam was my sister all this time?"
(Y/n)'s fingers rubbed soothing circles on Tara's back, her own heart heavy with the weight of Tara's pain. "I can't even begin to understand, Tara."
Tara's breath hitched, her voice hollow as she questioned her own identity. "Who am I, (Y/n)? If Sam's not my sister, then... who is she?"
(Y/n)'s grip on Tara tightened as if trying to hold her pieces together. "We'll figure it out, Tara. We'll find the truth together."
Tara's voice wavered as she fought back a fresh wave of tears. Her eyes bore into her girlfriend's, seeking comfort from the sudden betrayal of her family. "I thought I knew my family, (Y/n). But now... everything feels shattered."
(Y/n)'s voice was a quiet reassurance, even though uncertainty gnawed at her. "You're not alone in this, Tara. I'll be here for you every step of the way."
Tara's voice was barely above a whisper, her pain palpable. "I don't even know who my mother is anymore."
(Y/n)'s own confusion mirrored Tara's, her voice filled with empathy. "I can't imagine what you're going through, Tara. But we'll face this together."
Tara's tear-streaked face turned up to (Y/n)'s, eyes searching for something she couldn't quite name. "(Y/n), promise me you won't leave. Promise you'll stay, no matter how messy things get."
(Y/n)'s voice was a fervent vow, her heartache mingling with her commitment. "I promise, Tara. I'm not going anywhere."

The familiar chatter of Dawson Creek filled the hospital room, Tara had turned it on as background noise, to drown out the violent flashes that seemed to submerge her mind. Frustration etched lines on her face as her gaze darted repeatedly towards the door, her impatience festering like an open wound.
A sideways glance at the television in her heightened state snagged her attention, the unfolding scene appearing almost like a twisted mirror to her reality.
"Are the doors locked?"
"Yeah we should check the doors. Joey and Pacey, get the front door. Jen and Cliff, get flashlights-"
A guttural sound reverberated from the corridor, followed by a heavy thud as something crashed to the floor. Goosebumps prickled on Tara's arms, though she tried to dismiss the noise as inconsequential, perhaps a clumsy officer dropping an item or the sound of (Y/n)'s return with her food.
"Hello?"
Her voice carried down the corridor, swallowed by the eerie silence that remained.
"Hello?"
Tara's desperation seeped through her words now, a desperate plea for any sound to shatter the oppressive quietness. Dawson's Creek, once a comforting companion, now seemed to taunt her vulnerability.
"Please. Quit tripping out. This is just Dawson up to his old tired tricks. There's no psychopath in this house."
"Fuck this."
Tara's patience wore thin, her nerves on edge as she disconnected herself from the monitors, their shrill alarms underscoring her own helplessness. With deft movements, she unhooked the uncomfortable nasal cannula from her nose and braced herself, the sharp pain from her cast colliding with the wheelchair's leg serving as a painful reminder of her limitations. Suppressing a cry of pain, she hoisted herself into the seat, the effort eliciting a whimper as her injured body strained. Clinging to the wheels, she propelled herself towards the door, the wounds on her palms reopening and drenching her bandages in fresh blood. Soft whimpers of agony accompanied her every move as she struggled to reach (Y/n), to alert her of the ominous sounds that could threaten them both.
She couldn't bear the thought of (Y/n) enduring the same horrors she had faced.
Reaching the end of the bed, a deafening ringing of her cellphone pierced the air, rendering Tara motionless. Her gaze dropped to her bloodied hands, the pain radiating up her arms like a symphony of agony, the shrill sound clamouring for her retreat. But the possibility of Saffron's danger galvanized her resolve, overriding her own suffering.
The corridor stretched before her, devoid of life, its emptiness heightening the chilling atmosphere. Ignoring her aching body, Tara maneuvered herself towards the reception area, a mixture of tears and sobs punctuating her progress. Desperation hung in the air as she hoped for a lifeline. The creaking of the wheels subsided, replaced by a wet, gurgling sound that sent shivers down her spine. Slowing to a halt, she observed the gruesome scene before her. An officer lay sprawled behind the reception desk, his uniform soaked in blood that spewed from a savage gash on his neck. Tara's face contorted in a mask of anguish, her hand flying to her mouth to muffle the horrified gasp that escaped her lips. Dreadful realization gripped her – her fears were not unfounded; Ghostface had returned, and (Y/n)'s absence was far too long for Tara's comfort.
A sudden noise, the echo of a door closing, shattered Tara's stupor. Hastily, she wheeled herself into a nearby storage closet, a groan slipping from her lips as the blood-soaked bandages abraded her skin with every movement. Swinging the door shut, she left a slender crack through which she observed the corridor, her grip tightening on a landline she'd found, her trembling fingers desperate for a lifeline. Another door opened, and Tara's breath caught,
"Holy shit," she muttered under her breath. The footsteps grew closer, the thud of boots resonating like a heartbeat. Her fingers clenched around the phone, her only defense in this macabre dance.
As the heavy footsteps made their way towards the door, a blanket of black covered the small room, sending Tara into darkness. Her breath hitched as she attempted to stay quiet, gripping the phone tightly into her hand, knuckles turning white. A figure quickly popped their head in through the door, as Tara swung the phone in her hand with as much power as she could physically muster.
"Ow! Ow," Richie's pained cry echoed as he crumbled to his knees, his grip loosening on his throbbing head., "Goddamn it!"
"Richie?" Tara's gaze bore into him, suspicion lacing her voice. She inched her wheelchair back, her movements cautious and deliberate, as if he were a wounded animal on the verge of attack. Slowly, he pulled himself upright, using the door handle for support. "What are you doing here?"
"Sam called. She said that... you were in trouble." Still touching the spot on his head where he was hit he trailed off, thinking for a moment before his eyes glanced at the phone hanging from its cord.
"Did you hit me with a phone?"
Before Tara could answer, a familiar figure popped up behind Richie. Raising its knife to strike him, "Look out!" Richie swung around being face to face with the killer and their knife.
Richie's reflexes saved him, his arm instinctively raised to defend himself, but the blade still found purchase, carving a deep gash. The sickening sound of metal slicing through flesh reverberated through the room. Richie fought back, grappling with Ghostface in a desperate bid for survival. He clung to the wrist holding the knife, muscles straining as he wrestled for control. The room bore witness to their struggle, the tension suffocating.
Ghostface overpowered Richie, slamming him into the doorframe with a brutal force that left him limp and unresponsive. The scene hung in the air, frozen in time, as Tara absorbed the sight of Richie's motionless body and the shadowy figure that stood ominously before it. Ghostface turned towards her, tilting their head almost mockingly. The only chance of being saved she had was now lying in a heap before her, she was trapped.
With a surge of adrenaline, Tara shoved a monitor off a nearby table, sending it crashing onto Ghostface. As they grappled with the equipment, she seized her chance, propelling herself out of the room. Each movement was an agony, the searing pain from her injuries an unrelenting torment. Her eyes darted around the hallway, seeking an escape route. The elevator stood at the far end, a glimmer of hope beckoning in the darkness.
But it was a sight just outside the elevator that froze her in her tracks. (Y/n)'s bloodied form slumped against the doors, her pallor unnaturally ashen, eyes barely open, her body drenched in a grotesque tapestry of red. Their eyes met, the depth of their shared anguish unfurling between them in an instant, as Tara let out a scream of anguish.
Ghostface's chilling presence reappeared, the masked figure stalking towards Tara, savoring every moment of her terror. This was a twisted game to them, a sadistic symphony of agony orchestrated for their amusement. Tara could feel the walls closing in, every avenue of escape closing off one by one, the air thick with desperation.
They only wanted one thing, their sick and twisted game was going to end with both girls suffering the same fate.
Death

(Y/n)'s rhythmic foot-tapping on the cool pavement outside the bustling hospital entrance seemed like a minor rebellion against the day's clinical monotony. Overhead lights hummed with a steady cadence, while the cacophony of voices and footsteps surged like a river each time the door swung open. Sympathy and guilt had compelled her to venture out, bringing a taste of the outside world back to Tara – a meal that bore no resemblance to the sorry hospital fare.
The crispness of the air was a stark contrast to the confined, stuffy room she had been sharing with Tara. She had needed this brief reprieve, a moment to clear her mind and shake off the heavy emotional burden that had been pressing on her chest. As she let herself drift in the serenity of the moment, the world around her dissipated into a blur.
But then, a sudden thud shattered the tranquility. Her body tensed, a wave of unease crashing over her. It was as if a switch had been flipped, yanking her out of her peaceful reverie and back into the harsh reality. A chill raced down her spine as her senses sharpened, her heart pounding a staccato rhythm in her chest. The tranquility had been a facade – a fragile mirage that now lay shattered around her.
Her movements were slow, deliberate, as she turned to face the source of the noise. Dread knotted her stomach, and a cold sweat formed on her brow despite the gentle breeze that tousled her hair. The alley stretched before her, a corridor of shadow cast by the hospital's imposing structure. Trash cans lined the walls in uneven intervals, creating pockets of darkness that whispered with hidden potential.
Her gaze flitted from one corner to another, her pupils dilating as they fought to make sense of the murky gloom. Time seemed to slow as her heartbeat thrummed in her ears, the sound of her own breath growing louder in her ears. It was the alleyway that was her blind spot all along, a trap that she had unknowingly set for herself.
The feeling of being watched crawled under her skin, a persistent sensation that refused to relent. Her muscles tensed, her senses on high alert as she scanned every inch of the alley, seeking out the slightest sign of movement. Her fear was no longer an abstract emotion; it was a tangible force that gripped her like a vise.
The uncertainty gnawed at her, her mind racing through scenarios and possibilities. Was it just her imagination, or was there a real threat lurking in the shadows? Her every instinct screamed at her to flee, to retreat back into the safety of the hospital's embrace. But her body remained rooted, a strange mix of curiosity and terror keeping her in place.
In the shifting dance between light and shadow, her imagination began to conjure shapes – figures that could have been lurking, waiting. Every whisper of wind seemed to echo with menace, every rustle of garbage sent a shiver down her spine. It was as if the very fabric of the alley had come alive, a living embodiment of her fear.
In this chilling tableau, (Y/n) stood at the precipice of action. The alleyway, once an inconspicuous backdrop, had morphed into a stage for a silent, sinister drama. The weight of her decisions pressed heavily upon her, each moment stretching into an eternity as she grappled with her next move.
Amidst the tense backdrop of the alley, a sharp and jarring ring erupted from (Y/n)'s pocket, the sound piercing through the heavy air like a sudden warning. Her phone's vibrations reverberated against her leg, a stark reminder of the urgent reality that was beginning to unravel around her. With a swift and practiced motion, she fished her cellphone from her pocket, her fingers trembling slightly with a mix of apprehension and adrenaline.
The screen illuminated, revealing the caller's name – Sam. Her heart raced as she registered the significance of the incoming call. In a world where danger lurked in every shadow, a call from someone close could carry critical information or a vital warning. Her mind raced as she weighed the importance of answering this call against the potential threat that lingered in the alleyway.
Before she could even consider her next move, the abrupt sound of a door slamming echoed through the confined space, a stark reminder of the lurking peril that demanded her attention. The killer – the very embodiment of the threat that had been gnawing at her senses – was out there, somewhere, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. The reality of the situation surged back, and her instincts kicked into overdrive.
Frozen in shock, her hand still clutching the phone, she could feel her pulse pounding in her ears, each heartbeat a reminder of the perilous situation she was in. Her heart waged a battle with her rationality – answer the call and possibly get much-needed information or stay hyperaware of her surroundings to avoid a potentially deadly encounter.
With her senses on high alert, she managed to answer the call, her voice edged with tension. She held the phone to her ear, her eyes sharply focused on the alleyway, her breath held as she strained to hear any sound – any hint of the danger that might be lurking in the darkness. The voice on the other end became a distant murmur as her attention remained riveted on the shadows, her mind racing to analyze every movement, every flicker of movement, ready to react at a moment's notice.
"(Y/n)?" Her urgent voice cracked through the phone's speakers, each syllable carrying a weight of concern that matched the gravity of the situation. "Are you still with Tara?"
(Y/n)'s eyes remained locked onto the oppressive darkness before her, her senses on high alert. The words poured from the phone, a lifeline to the outside world in a moment that felt far from safe. "I'm just standing outside the hospital, waiting on food," she replied, her voice carrying a tremor of unease. But Sam's call wasn't just a casual check-in, it held an undercurrent of urgency that (Y/n) couldn't ignore. "Why?"
A pause hung in the air, heavy and fraught with tension, as Sam's next words crashed into (Y/n)'s consciousness like an oncoming storm. "Wes and Officer Hicks were murdered and the deputy is here—" The news hit (Y/n) like a physical blow, a gut-punch of shock and horror that reverberated through her entire being. Wes, one of her best friends since childhood, was gone. Along with his mother who was the head of the entire investigation on Ghostface.
(Y/n)'s body went rigid, her grip on the phone tightening as her mind raced through the implications of Sam's words. Panic surged within her, the realization striking like a bolt of lightning – if the deputy was gone from his post at the hospital, who was guarding Tara? Her thoughts spiraled into a frenzy, every worst-case scenario playing out in her mind's eye, a cruel montage of potential threats.
Before Sam could continue, before her mind could fully grapple with the sheer vulnerability of the situation, (Y/n)'s voice cut through the connection, her urgency and fear spilling forth. "Sam, get here as fast as you possibly can—"
It was a decision born out of desperation, a gamble made in the haze of fear. The door, positioned halfway down the ominous alley, loomed before her like a lifeline – a portal that could potentially lead her back to the safety of Tara's side. (Y/n)'s heart raced, each thud a reminder of the seconds ticking away, the precious moments that separated her from danger and sanctuary.
Without hesitation, fueled by adrenaline and a singular purpose, (Y/n)'s legs churned as she sprinted down the alley. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her shoes barely touching the ground as if propelled by sheer willpower. The thought of Tara, vulnerable and alone, provided a pulse of urgency that propelled her forward despite the terror gnawing at her heels.
The door, unassuming yet laden with potential, drew closer with each stride. Her trembling hand gripped the handle, the cold metal a stark contrast to her heated skin. In her frantic rush, even the simplest action felt like a monumental task. The door resisted, a stubborn barrier between her and the haven she sought. With a surge of determination, she managed to wrench it open, her body propelled into the relative safety of the hospital's stairwell.
The rush of relief was fleeting, quickly replaced by the stark realization that safety was a fragile illusion. She glanced around, her eyes scanning for any means to secure the entrance, to lock out the danger lurking in the shadows. Her gaze settled on a latch positioned overhead, a glimmer of hope in the dimly lit corridor.
Her fingers, slick with sweat and trembling with urgency, reached for the latch. Stretching on her tiptoes, her heart hammering against her ribs, she managed to engage the lock. A sigh of relief brushed her lips, a fleeting moment of victory as she turned to ascend the stairs that would take her to Tara.
But destiny is a cruel mistress, and the instant she turned around, a cold wall of black fabric met her, halting her progress. Panic surged like a tidal wave, her heart leaping to her throat as she gazed into the abyss of a familiar and malevolent presence.
They hadn't remained trapped in the alley, they hadn't faltered in their pursuit. They had anticipated her move, outmaneuvered her once again. And now, in this suffocating confrontation, the balance between life and death seemed as fragile as a spider's thread.

(Y/n)'s weary gaze remained fixated on Tara’s figure as she battled through the torment in her body to reach her. The moist, sickening sound of her bloodied hands against the wheels echoed in her ears as she desperately moved away from the looming presence of Ghostface, who lingered ominously behind her.
Numbness had spread through (Y/n)'s body, the pain becoming a distant sensation amidst the overwhelming chaos. Each movement sent shocks of agony, a relentless reminder of her recent ordeal. Her hands, coated in her own life fluid, struggled to propel her fragile form across the sterile hospital floor, leaving a macabre trail in her wake. The weight of exhaustion threatened to collapse her, her weakened form almost crumpling as she ventured away from the reassuring support of the wall.
The taste of desperation mingled with the metallic tang of blood in her mouth, as if her very life force was seeping away with every agonizing inch she managed to cover.
Richie’s cell phone erupted into a shrill ring, and Ghostface spun around, reaching toward Richie's slumped body to extract the phone from his pocket. Their gloved fingers cautiously pressed a button near the bottom of their mask, causing it to start flashing red. (Y/n) strained to make out the concerned tone of Sam’s voice through the phone's speaker, though the words remained elusive.
“Hello, Samantha!” Ghostface's distorted voice sliced through the air, stalking closer to a terror-stricken Tara, who had managed to put some distance between them, but the gap could be closed quickly.
“Richie can’t come to the phone right now. He’s finding out what happens to people who stick their noses in business that doesn’t concern them.”
“I’ll tell you what you can choose; I’ll only kill one,” the distorted voice continued, chilling (Y/n) to her core.
Sam's voice, desperate and pleading, cut through the phone's crackling. (Y/n) shifted her gaze briefly to Tara, who was putting more space between herself and the advancing Ghostface, her sobs growing louder.
“Who do you want to hear die?”
Amidst the fear and tension, Sam's desperate cries carried through the line, and Ghostface reveled in the torment, his taunts aimed at the terrified girls. (Y/n) knew that Ghostface's intention was to kill both of them, but she clung to a flicker of hope that Sam's plan might ensure Tara's survival.
“Really? You can’t save your own sister? All you have to do is say 'Kill Richie,' because I don’t think (Y/n)’s making it out either way!”
With an adrenaline-fueled surge, (Y/n)'s resolve solidified. If she couldn't escape this nightmare, she was willing to give her life to protect the person she loved most.
“Fuck you!” Tara's scream echoed through the hallway as Ghostface charged toward her. The wheelchair crashed to the floor, and Tara began crawling toward (Y/n), her fingers desperately gripping the cold linoleum.
“Or say 'Kill Tara!' And I’ll make sure to hit all the organs I missed last time!”
Tara's fingers found (Y/n)'s side, gripping her as she attempted to shield her from Ghostface’s impending attack.
“Last chance to save one, choose!” Ghostface's taunting voice pierced the air, echoing the desperate plea from Sam through the phone.
(Y/n) heard Sam's voice, laced with grief and pain, clearer than ever, “Why are you doing this?”
“You want to know why, Sam? Maybe it's because you’re a selfish bitch, who can’t even make a decision to save the life of someone you love.”
“Maybe you’re too weak for this franchise!”
Ghostface's legs closed in around both girls, (Y/n) straining to shield Tara from the imminent danger. She was prepared to bear the brunt of the attack, if it meant giving Tara a chance to escape. Tara's grip tightened, and her voice rose in defiance.
“Maybe you’re right?” Sam's voice sounded broken, defeated. (Y/n)'s heart sank; had Sam truly given up?
“Or maybe I’m just stalling for time, fuckhead!”
A sudden ping signaled the opening of the elevator doors, interrupting Ghostface's impending strike. Startled, Ghostface looked away for a fleeting moment. In that instant, (Y/n)'s heart raced, her hope rekindling. Through the elevator doors stood Sam and Dewey. Dewey fired off several shots down the hallway, sending Ghostface retreating and disappearing into a different corridor.
Dewey sprinted to Richie's side, who was sprawled a few meters behind, while Sam rushed to (Y/n) and Tara. (Y/n)'s vision wavered, the agony in her body muddling her perception of the chaos around her. She strained to hear Tara's soft whimpers amidst the commotion as Sam worked to move her sister.
Guiding Tara toward the elevator doors, Sam reassured (Y/n) that she would be back for her as soon as Tara was safely inside. Dewey, with his arm under Richie, led him back, but their progress was abruptly halted as Ghostface reappeared. In the ensuing struggle, Richie was thrown to the ground, and Dewey and Ghostface locked in a fierce grapple, colliding into walls and grappling each other.
The fight escalated, both men grappling and wrestling for control, until they crashed onto the floor. Dewey's gun skidded across the tiles, out of reach. Ghostface lunged, attempting to strike Dewey, but the seasoned officer managed to use his strength to headbutt Ghostface, buying him a moment to seize his gun. When Dewey turned, Ghostface charged once more, knife poised for a lethal strike. Dewey acted swiftly, firing several shots into Ghostface's chest, propelling him into a glass shelf with a shattering crash.
With Richie in his arms, Dewey retreated, heading back to (Y/n), who lay motionless on the floor. Gently lifting her, he heard her faint whimpering—a sign that she was alive. He swiftly pressed the elevator's call button, ushering them inside as the doors slid open.
The events inside the elevator remained a blur to (Y/n), her consciousness slipping. Richie's arms provided a faint anchor, and Dewey's voice seemed distant as he vanished from view. The resonating ring in her ears drowned out the ensuing conversations, though she surmised that Dewey was likely heading back to deal with Ghostface for good.
“Dewey, who cares?” Sam's voice echoed, her urgency palpable as she sought to ensure no further lives were lost.
The elevator doors began to close on Dewey's retreating figure, his final words reaching (Y/n)'s ears like a distant echo, “I do.”

Falling (T.Carpenter x F!Reader)
Warnings: Suggestive smut, light angst
Notes: This has been sitting in my drafts for a while along with a bunch of other shit.
Word Count: 480



Beautiful. Lovely. Gorgeous. Stunning.
Those are all of the words that appear in Tara's brain every time she sees you. She wishes she could have you, all to herself, but that's just selfish, but she doesn't care. She wants you, needs you, craves you.
Every time you walk in a room her eyes always find their way to you. Almost like they're attached to you, like you're a magnet and always find a way to draw her in. Even if you're just standing still, not doing a thing, her eyes will be drawn to you.
The way your eyes look in the light, how they glow, how they soften when you look down at her, how they look like they have little stars in them. She loves how your face softens when you're sleeping, whenever she glances at your sleeping form on your desk, she can't help but stare and smile a little. You look so peaceful, like you wouldn't hurt a fly. She loves how you're just a little taller than her, tall enough to look down at her.
She can only imagine how you'd look on top of her, pining her to her bed and gazing down at her.
She's taken a liking to the way you walk, it isn't forced, more relaxed than most, and full of confidence that not a lot have. Oh! The way you talk just has her entire body racing and heating up. The way you say her name has her stomach doing flips and filling with butterflies. Whenever you call her name, she can't help but short circuit just a little.
She wants to hear you call her name when she pleases you. She wants to hear how you'd sound whining, begging and pleading to her.
You're doing something to her and you don't even know it. Especially when your hands are visible and you call her over using your index and ring finger. It makes her think and wonder, how would your fingers feel inside of her. Curling in her and just fucking her dumb with just your fingers. How it would feel to have your fingers down her throat, your hand around her neck, grabbing her jaw to make her look at you and your fingers gripping her hair. But she also likes how soft they are, how they feel grazing against her own.
She needs you, bad. The more she thinks about you, your eyes, face, hands, hair, everything. The more she falls and falls and falls until one day she'll land. Hopefully in your arms and not on the ground watching as you walk away with someone that isn't her.
She wants to tell you but she's scared, fearing the rejection and aftermath of it all. So, all Tara can do is watch and admire from afar. Hoping that one day, she'll be brave enough to tell you.
Tardy, part 8
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8
Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Summary: An unexpected family member reveal sends you spiraling, will anyone trust you now?
Warnings: Angst that turns into fluff, mention of violence, mention of sex
Word Count 2.6k
A/N: I was dying writing this chapter (both physically and mentally) but I think the writers block is gone! Thank you for 600 followers!! As always, love u guys, and tell me what you think <33

“Mom, who’s my dad?” You asked absentmindedly, legs swinging from your living room couch.
“All the other kids at school know who their dad is, who’s mine?” You continued, blissfully unaware of the tension you had just created.
Your mom turned sharply, cigarette between her lips as she spoke.
“Oh, sweetie. Your dad’s gone. It’s just you and me now.” She said as she brought the lighter up and ignited the cigarette.
“What do you mean he’s gone?” You’d asked, eyebrows furrowed.
Your mom lets out a frustrated huff before she answers again.
“I don’t know, he’s just gone. Okay? He left town. Would you leave this topic alone now?” She sounded annoyed, and you don’t want to upset her any further, so you nodded quickly and turned your attention back to the TV screen.
“Okay, Ma.”
-
You flash back into another memory, this time you’re older; freshly graduated from high school, ready to move across the country to start university.
You’ve bid your farewells to friends and relatives, promising you’ll come visit every year.
Your mom’s pulling you aside looking at you weirdly. She’s getting old, you can tell by the increasing wrinkles on her face every day.
She smiles softly, and you think she looks like the sweetest grandma ever.
“Honey, I want you to know something. About your dad.”
You raise an eyebrow, mouth dropping slightly.
Your dad has always been a touchy subject for your mom, she’s never really allowed herself to tell you the full story.
Sure, as you’ve gotten older, you’ve learned bits and pieces. He was a dirtbag, leaving your mom right after she gave birth. You’d also learned that you were born in a small town called Woodsboro but had been whisked away almost immediately.
Your mom sighs now, and everything suddenly feels very heavy.
“I just tried so hard to be both parents for you, I know it wasn’t fair to keep this from you for so long. But if you’re ready to learn who your dad is, I’m ready to tell.” She says, voice cracking only the tiniest bit. You can see how strong she’s trying to be.
You suddenly see your whole childhood flash before your eyes. Your mom sending you off and picking you up every day after school. Making meals for the two of you every night, working overtime to support the family.
“No Ma. It’s okay. I already have a dad, and his name is you.” You say, pointing to her heart.
She opens her mouth but you cut in before she can say anything.
“No, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t need a dad when I have you.” You say, and you mean it wholeheartedly.
Your mother swells with happiness and takes you in a big hug. Wraps her arms around your shoulders.
“Be safe, honey.” She whispers into your ear.
-
You splutter, staring at the page in front of you with a jumble of letters that don’t look like coherent words anymore.
No…it couldn’t be?
There’s no way your dad was Stu Fucking Macher.
It doesn’t feel like you expected it would, finding out who your real father is. Years and years of endless crying; wondering why and why and why.
Every moment has led up to this.
This light, breakable paper in your palms. It’s telling you all you’ve ever wanted to hear, and yet somehow it’s also the thing you need to hear the least.
There’s quick flashes of déjà vu as you stare at the name.
Blood; lots of it. Splattered on the ceiling, all over your body. Screams, loud and clear as day, piercing through your eardrums and starting a ringing sound.
You snap back into reality as Sam steps up to you.
You brace yourself for the worse, you wouldn’t be mad if Sam kicked you out bare into the street right then and there, hell, she could hurt you and you wouldn’t even be mad.
She raises her hand but the impact never comes. Instead, she kneels down to you and holds your shoulders tight.
“It’s okay. I know it’s hard.” She says, soft. Her lips are pulled into a frown but her eyes are sorrowful.
“It’s- it’s okay?” Tara splutters, staring between you and her sister. Flabbergasted would be a minuet way to describe her expression.
“Yes. It’s okay. Can everyone leave the room for a minute? I want to talk to YN.” Sam says, and everyone heeds her orders; shuffling down through the living room hallway.
You stare at Sam, eyebrows knit tight together. She’s hated you since you the day you met, and now she’s the one protecting you?
“Why?” You ask, curiosity seeping through your voice.
“Everyone here has been through something.” She says, biting her lip. “And believe me, if anyone knows about being framed as the bad guy, it’s me.”
She hesitates a little before she opens her mouth again.
“Let’s not pretend that everyone here doesn’t have immensely traumatic things happen to them. Me and Tara…well we know about that. But Mindy and Anika and Chad? You wouldn’t believe the stories I’ve heard from them.” She says, twiddling with her thumbs.
“What if I’m actually the killer?” You press, gauging Sam’s reaction.
She tuts and answers sharply.
“I don’t believe for a second that you are.”
It takes you aback, her being so sure about it. You stay quiet, try to think of anything to say.
You can’t, it’s all too much information to get.
“How can you know that?” You say finally, tilting your head up to make eye contact with Sam.
She pats your back lightly. “You’re a good person YN. We can all tell.”
“We’re a family. One fucked up family, but family all the same. Including you.” She says, voice sure.
You hold eye contact for a while, a silent conversation being spoken. Setting aside all your differences, Sam was actually a really cool person. And you can tell she feels the same way.
Before you know it she’s out down the same hallway the group left in.
You’re sat on the couch, mouth open and eyes glazed.
Huh.
“YN? Mind if I come in?” Tara’s voice sounds from in front of you. You can’t decipher what the tone is.
“Yeah…yeah of course.” You answer, watching as Tara enters and stands before you.
You can’t handle her intense stare, and you drop your head immediately. Anxiety floods you, heart picking up speed.
You don’t notice her until she’s right in front of you, taking your cheeks in her hands. Stroking, softly.
10 minutes ago she was mad, and now she’s comforting you? This girl and her mixed signals.
“I believe you.” She murmurs, leaning down to press her lips on your cheek. She’s so short that even when you’re sitting down you’re almost the same height.
You don’t want to think about any of this now, you don’t want to think about it ever. You want to tell Tara this, but you can’t bring yourself to speak.
Your throat feels dry, eyes slightly teary.
“So what do we do now?” You whisper.
She continues stroking your face fondly, cradles you in her arms.
“We continue with the plan.” She says, and there’s a sense of finality in it that makes you shiver.
-
They’ve pushed back the date on their plan to capture Ghostface a little bit. Tara won’t admit it, but you know she’s the one who suggested it. She must think you need time to process the sudden father reveal, no doubt.
It’s sweet, but she’s wrong. In fact, right now all you need is a distraction. Something to take your mind off all the racing thoughts through your head, the sense of betrayal you feel.
Maybe I should call my mom.
“Hey. Whatcha thinking bout?” A voice sounds from behind you. It’s Anika, and you send her a soft smile; feeling weirdly glad to be in her company.
“Oh nothing much. Just about how my dad was one of the original Ghostfaces and that we’re literally running straight into danger in a few days.” You say, trying to make your voice sound light and teasing.
Anika seems to pick up on the underlying message, and you hear her sigh a little before speaking.
She rounds the couch to come sit down beside you, a pack of medical supplies in her arms. She splays it across the table and turns back to face you.
“If it makes you feel any better, I know what it’s like to have a rough family. My parents were…dipshits to say the least.” She says, casually.
Oh.
You try and think of something appropriate to say in response, but your brain seizes up and it goes blank.
“But you don’t have to feel bad for me. I have a new family now.” She continues, smiling at you; genuine crinkles at the tips of her eyes. She pats your back lightly.
“Just so you know, I don’t think you’re the killer. Who cares if your dad is Ghostface? It’s not like this is the first time it’s happened in our friend group. I trust you, really.”
It’s enough to make you teary-eyed again. You look away, hoping she can’t see them.
“Thank you.” You mumble. “That means a lot to me.”
She chuckles warmly before taking you in a hug. You guys don’t say anything the rest of the time she fixes up your wound.
-
“Are you blushing?” Tara asks immediately when Anika leaves the room, footsteps light.
“What? No, I’m not.” You say, running a hand through your hair.
“Did she make you blush?” She’s asking, a teasing smile on her lips.
You frown.
“She just said some very nice things to me, okay?” You huff, cross your arms like a child.
“Aw, baby. You look adorable.” She murmurs, giving you a peck on the lips.
“Are you not jealous?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow at her.
She brings a finger to her lips and feigns thoughtfulness. Then she smiles wide and takes your lips in a searing kiss.
“No.” She mumbles against them. “Because I know you’re mine. And I can definitely make you do a lot more than blush.”
It’s enough to make you flush completely red. You let out a little whine at her words.
“See?” She’s asking as she leans back, a smirk on her lips. You try and wipe it off by wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her in for another kiss.
She’s not wrong. But you’re not going to admit that. It’s a fatal flaw, really. How easily you relent when it comes to Tara. You’d die for her, you’d kill for her, and she knows it.
“Come on,” She’s whispering. “Let’s go to my room.”
You pull back, amused.
“I don’t think I can even stand and you’re asking me to do what?” You ask pointedly.
She tugs on your shirt, obviously not in the mood to play one of your games right now.
“Then maybe I’ll just take you right here.” She whispers into your ear, laughing as you shiver beneath her.
You gulp, stare at her with big eyes. She crawls forward, leaning her elbows into your sides on instinct.
You can’t help but wince.
It seems to break Tara out of her lustful haze, because now she’s looking at you with worried eyes.
She’s getting up kind of panicky, fiddling with her hands.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I should let you sleep.” She says, sort of fast, words tumbling out of her.
You smile at her, grip her hands tight.
“It’s okay, Tara. Although, I do want to hit the hay for a while. Care to join me?” You invite, tugging her closer slightly to make sure she doesn’t leave.
She grins shyly and nods.
“Okay.” She says, biting the inside of her cheek. She’s the cutest with the excitement that radiates off her.
-
When you wake, Tara’s not in your arms anymore. You stir, rubbing your eyes aggressively.
“Tara?” You groan, trying to look around the weirdly dim room for any sign of your girlfriend.
You notice the candles immediately, more than a dozen of them lining the table and making a little pathway to the fireplace.
Your girlfriend appears in front of you now, wearing a little white sundress; one you’d specifically bought for her weeks ago.
She looks so good, you almost start drooling. Like an angel, the way she’s standing and staring at you, playful, excited gaze.
“I was wondering when you were going to wake up.” She grins, bending down to press a kiss to your cheek.
“What is all this?” You question, looking around the room in further inspection.
There are two plates set up quite nicely on the dining table, along with a bottle of champagne and a single flower in the middle.
It’s all so, romantic.
Tara twirls, and gives you a little show of her dress. Then she takes your hand and gently helps you up, leading you to the dining room with her.
“I never got to take you on a date. I think it’s time I return the favor.” She says, nodding along to her sentence; like a reassurance.
“You’re adorable.“ You say, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. She blushes a little.
“Thank you.” She mumbles.
The smell as you enter the dining room is mouth-watering. You recognize it immediately. It’s your favorite pasta, ravioli with white wine and tomatoes.
Tara’s an amazing cook, you know this already. But the flavors that explode in your mouth when you take a bite out of it are otherworldly.
“This is the best thing you’ve ever cooked.” You speak through stuffed cheeks, eyes wide and happy.
Tara picks up a piece of her own and eats it.
“I didn’t know what to make you, so I called your mom. She said this was your favorite, so I went on youtube and tried to replicate the recipe.” She says, somewhat shyly.
You beam.
“You called my mom?” You ask, teasingly. Boop her on the nose. You celebrate internally when you see her flush red.
“Yeah, it was no biggie. Just a phone call.” She disregards, biting her bottom lip to try and stop the color that’s overtaking her whole face.
She reaches forward to grab another piece of ravioli before she stops short and gasps.
“Oh! I almost forgot to give you these.” Tara says, reaching behind her chair for something. She pulls out a huge bouquet of flowers, filled with your favorites.
You don’t try and hide the surprise in your face, mouth open and gaping.
She slaps your arm lightly at your reaction.
“Hey! I can be romantic too you know.”
You nod sarcastically.
“Oh yeah no doubt no doubt.” You say, taking the bouquet from her hands in favor of bending over the table and kissing her.
“Thank you, baby.” You say against her lips. She smiles wide, scrunching her nose as she pulls back.
“You taste like pasta!” She’s giggling, pushing you back into your chair.
You finish the dinner in record time, and that’s due entirely to how good the meal was. You and Tara sit and talk for a little while before moving to the floor to watch a movie.
Tara’s annoyingly secretive about it, not letting you see whatever she’s setting up. You huff and go grab snacks from the fridge instead.
When you get back it’s to the TV covered, and there’s a small projector at the side shining light on a random bed sheet she’s hung vertically.
“Impressive speed.” You praise.
Tara’s sitting smugly, arms open and inviting you to come sit.
It’s playing 10 Things I Hate About You, one of your all-time favorite movies. You settle down into the spot next to her and sneak a glance over, but she’s already staring at you; hard.
You let out a breath of happiness and pull her closer by the waist. Kiss her on the forehead, murmur against her skin.
“Thank you for this. I needed it.”
She nods into you and pulls you impossibly closer.
“Of course.” She says.
You decide Ghostface can wait, your dad can wait. All that matters right now is Tara. Her and this movie and you.
The only three things that exist in the world.
Let The Light In |4|
Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Chapter 4: Leave That For The Adults
Summary: Tara has been driving herself crazy trying to figure out what she's feeling and you're not making it any better. And you get stuck having dinner with a certain teeth edging family member
Warning(s): Some angst, swearing, mentions of underage drinking, intoxication, dry heaving, gagging & throwing up
Notes: We get to see a little more of R's past in this one and I think you're gonna like one specific scene I wrote 🤭
Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

Tara, Mindy, Chad and Ethan were once again over at your and Anika’s apartment to hang out with her. She tried to convince you to hang out with them but you weren’t interested. Your answer was always the same whenever she asked.
They just weren’t your crowd. They weren’t in high school and they aren't now. You were fine with that. Anika on the other hand wanted you to get to know them. They were friends with her girlfriend and became her own. She wanted all of you to get along.
She was fully aware of your rocky relationship with Tara but that wasn’t going to stop her from trying. Anika only knew a few things; you and tara have hated each other since high school and according to Mindy it started out of the blue.
“Chad I swear to god if you don’t stop throwing that blue shell at me,” Tara said as she swerved along with her kart on the screen. “It’s not my fault your reflexes on Mario Kart suck–” Tara threw a pillow at him “–hey! No pillow throwing.”
“Aaaand victory is mine!” Mindy raised her arms victoriously. “Take that losers,” she smirked while the rest of them groaned.
“Winner gets to choose where we eat for dinner and I say that diner around the corner.” After a few minutes they start to get ready to leave. “Oh hold on one second,” Anika said before approaching your bedroom door and knocking.
“Yeah?” She heard you ask from the other side. “We’re going to that diner around the corner. You wanna come?” Shit. Anika knew damn well it was your favorite place to eat. The only flaw is that it doesn’t deliver.
Your roommate heard groaning and shuffling before the door swung open. “Sure I’m in.” You were wearing jeans and a Batman shirt that looked a little too thin for the chill fall weather. “Aren’t you going to be a bit cold?” She asked before you rolled your head back and grabbed your older brother’s letterman jacket.
“I’ll take this. Happy mom?” She rolled her eyes before replying. “Very, now come on.”
The walk over was short but you still trailed behind them the entire time. When you all sat in a booth you chose to hide with a menu by holding it up in front of your face. You stared at the menu as if you weren’t going to order your usual. Anika and Mindy sit beside you as Ethan, Chad and Tara sit in front of you.
They have multiple conversations that you choose to stay out of until you hear your name. “So, Y/N, you like Batman?” You put down the menu and tilt your head slightly, looking at the curly haired boy who had spoken.
“It’s just I noticed your Batman shirt,” Ethan continued as he briefly pointed to the shirt you were wearing. “Oh yeah. He’s cool. You?” He smiled and nodded.
A conversation between the two of you – that was Ethan asking you questions and you responding with a short answer or hum – eventually picked up. During all this you couldn’t help but feel like you were being stared at but chose to ignore it. Your conversation with Ethan was put on pause when the food came. You quietly munched on your fries until Tara spoke up.
“So, Y/N–” here we go “–you only come out of your room for food and the occasional bathroom breaks…you’re kind of like a deer.” She took a bite of one of her onion rings. “A deer? What– well you’re five foot nothin’ so I don’t know why you’re talkin'.” You shot back. It wasn’t the first time somebody’s compared your habits to a deer.
“I’m five foot one!” She defended with a scoff before you responded. “But who’s keeping track, right? And speaking of which–” everybody at the table were now staring at the both of you “–why are you keeping track of my routine anyways?”
“Oh you are so full of it,” Tara said with her arms now crossed. “Full of what? I haven’t accused you of anything yet my little stalker. Simply just asking,” you shrugged while wearing a smug look that Tara wanted to ki- smack right off your face.
“Don’t you still sleep with a Spider-Man plushie?” Tara retorted before sipping her milkshake, her eyes never leaving you. “Technically I don’t sleep with him, he sits on my nightstand. Wait– how do you know about him?” You asked with tilt in your head.
Tara suddenly avoided your stare as she twirled her straw in her milkshake. “You mentioned it at some point,” she finally murmured.
“You remembered that?” She remembered that? Even you couldn’t remember mentioning that to her until now.
“It’s not a big deal. Not like it’s a hard thing to remember.” It suddenly got quiet between the two of you. All of them eventually drifted off into their own conversation as you silently nibbled on another one of your fries.
Suddenly you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. The message you read causes you to freeze and your eyes to widen.
Dad (8:56 pm) I’m coming over this weekend.
“Shit,” you mutter and Anika turns over to you. “What’s wrong?” she asks but then her eyes catch the message you’re still staring at. Before she could say anything else you were already typing away.
Y/N (8:58 pm) Tomorrow?
You started to push down on your thumb’s cuticles with your index finger while waiting for a response.
Dad (9:01 pm) Yes
Tomorrow was Saturday and you were originally going to help Tara with one of her assignments and then play video games at Henry’s place but not anymore. Now you’re going to get stuck with your father. It wasn’t an ideal situation. You and him never got along.
You were never his favorite and that was alright with you cause he was never yours. All he did was bring problems. If he wasn’t busy cheating on your mom then he was nit picking at you and every little thing you did. No matter what you did you just couldn’t be enough for him.
A foot gently tapping your own from under the table pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see Tara with her eyebrows furrowed. You simply cleared your throat and shook her head a bit, trying to show you were fine. She looked you up and down – not believing you one bit – before turning back to her conversation with Chad.
You felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned your head to find Anika. “Are you gonna need the apartment this weekend? It’s not a problem if you do,” she asked and reassured you.
“No, I think I’m just gonna take him out for dinner. Besides, he only knows where I’m attending college. He doesn’t know where I live and I’d like to keep it that way,” you murmured back before sipping your milkshake. You saw her nod from the corner of your eye before she turned back to Mindy.
When you all left the diner you and Tara went back to your bickering. Chad rubbed his stomach before letting out a tiny groan. “Shit, I shouldn’t have drank the milkshake and soda.” Mindy rolled her eyes and replied, “I told you not to drink both.”
You and Tara were slightly ahead of the group. “Yeah bu– are those ghost socks?” You asked, cutting yourself off. Tara looked down at her socks for a second before looking back at you. “Yeah, and?” You put out your bottom lip as you shook your head. “Nothing. I think you look cute in them. Anyways back to the point I was making–” Tara didn’t hear much after the word “cute.”
Why are you acting as if you didn’t just call her cute? Were you doing this on purpose? Making her feel like this? Like butterflies were flying around in her stomach? Surely you knew. This had to be another one of your tactics. Another way for you to get inside her hea–
“Watch out for dog shit,” you said as you pulled her by the waist and away from the crap she was about to step on. When you removed your hand from her waist she almost missed it. Almost.
“You okay?” She turned her head to look up at you. “Yeah, fine.” Tara responded before looking back ahead.
Mindy and Anika watched the whole interaction. They gave each other a silent look before continuing their own conversation.
“You seem out of it.” Tara gave you a raised eyebrow before you elaborated. “I just mean, usually you would’ve had a rebuttal for me by now. You doin’ okay?” You were now fully looking at her and she hated the concern in your eyes.
She turned her head, no longer able to handle your stare. “I said I was fine, didn't I?” Tara crossed her arms. You gave her a tight lipped look before sighing, “Okay then…”
When you all got back to your apartment you placed your leftovers on the counter. Just as you were about to go to your room your phone started ringing.
You tense up before saying, “I’m gonna take this,” and going to your bedroom. Leaving Anika and the rest of them in the living room.
You silently sighed in relief as you heard your mom’s voice. The call itself didn’t take too long. It was just her checking in, making sure your father told you about him being in Manhattan this weekend – as vague as he was – and that her and your younger brother, Stephen, would be joining you and him for dinner. You had zero complaints to this as you did not want to be left alone with your father.
When you stepped out of your room you completely forgot people were over. You stopped in your tracks as their heads turned to you for a brief moment, Tara was biting on her nails but dropped them from her mouth as soon as she saw you and looked back at the TV.
“Great, you’re all still here,” you said sarcastically before sitting down in the loveseat. Anika kicked your feet due to your blatant comment.
“Be nice,” she mouthed. You lifted your legs to rest on the loveseat’s armrest. You had no idea why you were sitting out here anyway. Originally you had come out of your room thinking they had left. You definitely weren’t in the mood for company.
But when are you ever?
“Oh um, Tara I’m not gonna make it tomorrow,” you told her after a few minutes of silence. “Why?” Tara sinked further into the couch when she realized she sounded more disappointed than she intended.
“I’m getting dragged off to this dinner thing tomorrow but I’ll make it up to you,” you simply answered before standing up and walking over to the kitchen. Mindy looked at you as you walked then to Tara with raised eyebrows.
“What?” Tara asked with a bored tone. “I’ll make it up to you~” Mindy mocked while dramatically fluttering her eyelashes.
“Shut up.”
—
You haven’t seen your father since you moved to Woodsboro your sophomore year. You didn’t even see him after were attacked by ghostface. Not that you expected any less from him, this was just the type of man he was. When you get to the restaurant the first people you see are your younger brother and mom.
She greets you with a kiss to the cheek and you and your brother settle for a simple nod. Once you’re all seated you ask the question that’s been on the tip of your tongue since you walked in. “So, where’s dad?” Your mom sighed before answering. A sigh you knew all too well. “He’s on his way. There was just a little traffic. Stop worrying honey, leave that for the adults.” She looked at you with a gentle smile to ease her words.
You exhale through your nose, lightly moving your index finger against the glass cup set in front of you. I am an adult, you wanted to say but this wasn’t the place for that. Not now.
“What’s college like?” Stephen asked, pulling you from your thoughts. You continued to stare at the glass as you answered him. “Still there.” You could hear your mom clear her throat. You moved your eyes to look at her before moving them back to the glass. “Some of the classes are actually worth looking forward to so I guess that’s something.”
“Well that’s good. You’ve been keeping up with your studies?” You nodded. Before she could get another word out you felt a familiar grip on your shoulder. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic.”
“Dad,” you heard your brother say. “Hey, buddy. How was the train?” Your father asked as he took the vacant space beside your mom. “It was okay,” Stephen answered.
“Y/N.” You finally looked over to him. “Dad,” you responded less enthusiastically than your brother. Stephen and your mom shared a look before you heard her speak. “Do you two know what you want?” She asked you and your brother.
Stephen nodded and you hummed.
“So, did Stephen tell you yet?” Your father asked. You looked at him then to Stephen, saying, “Tell me what?”
Your father wore a proud grin as he spoke, “He’s going to be a cop. Just like his old man and I couldn’t be prouder.” Your mom let out a silent sigh, knowing where the night was headed. “That’s great,” you took a sip of your water.
“Isn’t it? He’s going to be great.” Stephen nervously chuckled before finally saying something. “It’s not a big deal. I’m just thinking about it.” Your father shook his head, “It’s a calling, bud and you’re going to do amazing.” He sounded nothing but proud.
You gave a small smile to your brother before turning back to your glass. You expected no less from tonight. You knew your father couldn’t be here five minutes without being ‘Officer Y/L/N.’ That was your relationship with him growing up. It seemed like he knew more about being a cop than how to be your dad.
The waitress came with the food and left and the interrogation began. “So,” your father started, “you’ve been staying out of trouble?” You rolled your eyes.
“Course’ I have.” He grunted at your answer and responded, “There’s no need for an attitude. I have plenty of reasons to ask you that or did you forget about the shit you did in Brooklyn?”
You roll your eyes again. “That was years ago. I don’t do that stuff anymore.” He eyed you before picking up his fork and knife, cutting through his chicken. “Mhm, kay,” you heard him mutter with doubt laced in his tone and you clenched your jaw.
“And stop rolling your eyes. It’s a bad habit,” he added before taking a bite of his food. You subconsciously closed your eyes for a second as you felt yourself about to roll your eyes again. He always found something to nitpick at.
The rest of the night continued to go on like that. Your father continued to bring up your track record to get a rise out of you and you responded back with quips as you picked at your own skin under the table.
Not much has changed since you were fifteen.
The best news you got all night was that your father would be heading home the same night. You felt relief wash over you as you heard him say that. And as much as you love your mom and brother, you were glad they had their own ride home because you were simply too exhausted to be behind a wheel tonight.
You were walking to your apartment when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You took it out to find a text from Anika.
Nik (10:53 pm) Hey! I went to carvel today, there’s a chocolate and vanilla twist waiting for you in the freezer
You slightly smiled, now off to the side and leaning against a shutter. You replied to the message, giving a quick thanks, before only putting in the right side of your headphones in and continuing your walk to your apartment.
A hotdog stand caught your attention. The smell was alluring and you felt your stomach grumble. Damn it. You just came back from dinner but of course you were still hungry. It was dinner with your father. You never got much eating done, choosing to use your mouth for arguing rather than chewing and swallowing.
You knew how unreliable street food was but at the moment you truly didn’t care. You chose to stick with a simple order, a hotdog with ketchup drizzled top. You got a Dr Pepper from a store nearby before sitting down on a bench and eating. This was the most at peace you felt all night. Sitting on a bench, listening to music, eating a hotdog and washing it down with Dr Pepper.
If only that peace lasted.
When you got home you went to turn on the light, not expecting them to be on since Anika was supposed to be out with Mindy, but you realized they were already on. You furrowed eyebrows. Anika usually doesn’t forget something like that.
“Anika?” You called out, reaching for the bat you hid under your couch when you first moved in. After a few seconds you heard her reply, “Y/N? Yeah in here!” It sounded like she was in the bathroom. You reluctantly put the bat back before going over to the bathroom.
“Hey what’s wro–” You cut yourself off when you see an ill looking Tara hunched over your toilet. Mindy was holding her hair back as Anika turned to you. “Hey um, sorry to just drop this on you. I know you probably had a long night but could you help us with something?”
You gave Tara one more glance before answering, “Yeah of course. What do you need?” You could hear Tara gagging. “Can you keep an eye on her while we get her some supplies from the pharmacy?” You nodded and murmured, “Course.’ ”
You switched places with Mindy, lifting Tara’s hair and even pushing a few extra strands from her face. She was clearly drunk and you couldn’t help but admit you hated seeing her like this. You didn’t go to as many parties as she did but from what you’ve heard most of her free nights end with her being drunk.
“You're never gonna let me forget this, are you?” Tara said in between gags. You subconsciously moved one of your hands to her lower back, softly rubbing in circles.
“What? You think I like seeing you like this?” You asked genuinely. Surely she knew you didn’t…right? Seeing her in such an unhealthy state only brought a feeling of– well you couldn’t find the right word for what you felt. But you knew it wasn’t anything positive.
“Don’t you?” She slurred, clearly she hadn’t puked up all the alcohol just yet. You exhale through your nose, taking your hand off her lower back to reach into your pocket to grab a hair tie. Tara missed the contact but refused to say anything. Only pouting at yourself for even thinking such a thing.
You run your hands through her hair, brushing it back and tying it in a loose but secure ponytail. You push a single loose strand behind her ear causing your knuckles to brush against her cheek. Tara’s breath hitches and she blushes, due to your touch.
Goodness, what were you doing to her?
“No. I don’t,” you finally answered. She went to say something but was cut off by dry heaving and your hand immediately went back to her lower back, continuing to rub gentle circles.
You could hear the faint sound of your front door opening and a few seconds later the bathroom door slowly opened.
“Hey, we got everything,” Anika told you. You turned your head to see her with a pharmacy bag. You and Anika got Tara to the couch in one piece while Mindy was in the kitchen setting up everything Tara would need. “Oh Y/N, before I forget. Tara’s staying the night because Sam will freak out if she comes home like this,” Anika told you as you wiped the remnants of drool and throw up off Tara’s face. You thought for a second before responding,“Okay, she can take my bed.” Tara was now passed out cold on the couch, hugging a pillow close to her chest.
“Are you sure?” Your roommate asked and you hummed. “Listen, we may hate each other but my mom raised me right. I’m not leaving her on the couch. Besides, I’m assuming Mindy’s also staying to keep an eye on her and you two shouldn’t have to get stuck cuddling on a couch all night.”
After Anika hesitantly agreed, you set up your bed and then went back to the couch to find Tara still fast asleep. You lifted her bridal style and started the walk to your room. Tara mumbled something incoherent before her eyes fluttered open. She seemed confused as she looked around then up at you. “It’s okay, go to sleep,” you said in a soft voice that made Tara’s cheeks warm.
Once you placed her in your bed you put the covers over and gently lifted her head to put a pillow under her. Her eyes were once again shut, you assumed she fell asleep again and looked at her for a moment before leaving the room but not without leaving the door open by a sliver. Just in case anything happened and she needed you– or anyone.
When Tara woke up she instantly noticed the pounding headache she had and groaned. She rubbed her temples and after a minute she took a look around. This was not her room. Has she been kidnapped? But it was then when all the memories from last night came rushing to her.
All the embarrassing memories. She could remember starting off with a shot…then two…then three…then she woke up to Anika and Mindy helping her up and walking her out of the party. She had complained about not wanting to go back to her own place because Sam would kill her so Anika and Mindy brought her to Anika’s apartment instead and Mindy messaged Sam that they were staying the night at her house.
After that she felt like throwing up…and she did. Then she didn’t stop for a while. And then– oh this is when the embarrassment comes in. That’s when you came home and Anika asked you to help while they went out for supplies.
Oh, you were so gentle with her. She almost let out a dreamy sigh while looking back until she caught herself. Snap out of it, Carpenter, she scolded herself. But then another memory of you carrying her bridal style to your bed and tucking her in appeared.
No. Mindy wasn’t right and Tara still despised you. You were still the same asshole from high school.
She heard two soft knocks on the door and looked over to see you carrying a plate of scrambled eggs. “Didn’t know if you were awake,” you murmured. You walked over and placed them beside the water bottle and aspirin you left for her the night before.
“Anika made some scrambled eggs and eggs are good for hangovers, so…” You awkwardly shifted back and forth on your feet with your arms behind your back, your hands holding onto each other. “I’m gonna go.” And with that you left the room, not waiting for a response from Tara.
After five minutes, Tara finally leaves your bedroom. “There she is,” Mindy smiled at her before putting a grape in her mouth. “So loud,” Tara mumbled while lifting a hand to her head.
She lifted herself onto the stool beside Anika and Mindy and put her head down. But she lifted her head slightly and shifted her eyes, noticing a certain her nuisance wasn’t there to bother her or call her princess.
“Where’s Y/N?” She asked in her morning voice. “Your lover girl had a morning shift at the cafe,” Mindy answered. Tara didn’t have the energy to make a retort or argue back saying, “She’s not my lover girl.” She settled with putting her head back down with heavy eyes.
“What time is Sam expecting us?” Anika asked her girlfriend who answered, “Eleven so we should probably get ready soon.”
After a few minutes Tara went back to your bedroom to gather her stuff when suddenly she realized she didn’t recognize the hoodie she was wearing. She looked down and saw Spider-Man at the center of the hoodie, putting up his hands to form a heart. She could recall seeing you wearing this around campus before and noted that it smelled like you. She could never admit that she actually appreciated the gesture considering the tank top you put it over wasn’t doing anything to keep her warm.
It wouldn’t hurt to keep the hoodie, right?
She looked over at the scrambled eggs you had brought in for her before sitting down on the edge of the bed, swinging her feet as she thought to herself. Guess it wouldn’t hurt to eat the eggs. It was Anika who made it after all. She ate a few bites over your nightstand before taking a sip of water and took an aspirin.
When she got back home she greeted Sam before laying down on her bed and replaying last night over and over again and how she had to face you in class the next day.
—
When Tara got to class you greeted her as if nothing happened. “Hey, you look like you just got run over by a truck,” you said, causing her to roll her eyes at you. “Oh do I?” She asked rhetorically and took out her laptop.
Throughout class her mind kept trailing back to your gentleness towards her that night. All Anika told you to do was watch her. She didn’t tell you to wipe the drool and throw up off her face, put her hair in a ponytail or rub her back as she gagged.
The fact that you had somehow found your way into her head was pissing Tara off. So pissed in fact that instead of going about her usual routine with you she just chose to ignore you.
You weren’t sure why Tara was ignoring you. Obviously something seemed off with her but you had no idea what. Was she mad at you? She didn’t seem her usual mad, this was different. She’s never taken her aggression out by ignoring you. By using colorful words? Yeah. But never with silence.
Oh.
You must've done something terrible. But what?
As you walked to your next class you tried to look back at what you could’ve possibly done. You hadn’t done anything you haven’t done before. Just your usual banter with Tara, nothing out of the norm. By the time you got to your apartment later that day you were still trying to figure out what you could’ve done. This shouldn’t be stressing you out as much as it was. It was just Tara after all.
Anika noticed your distressed state and walked to the kitchen, a minute later coming back with your chocolate and vanilla twist and handing it to you. “Thanks,” you said as you took the ice cream from your roommate.
“Wanna talk about what’s got you like this?” She asked you, moving to sit in the love seat. You moved the spoon around a bit in your ice cream before answering. “I just…I don’t know what I did but T– this person is giving me the silent treatment and I just don’t know why. I’ve been trying to come up with something I could’ve done to get that treatment but nothing’s coming to me,” you finally said as Anika nodded along and listened.
“Well, you can be kind of an asshole sometimes. Seems like you've thought pretty hard on this. You care a lot for this person?” She suddenly asked. You almost wanted to laugh. Would Anika be asking this if she knew you were talking about Tara?
“Oh, goodness no. She’s just an– acquaintance? I guess you can say. If you even wanna call her anything,” you answered her. “You seem pretty sure of that,” she stated with a tone of doubt.
“Cause’ I am.” You responded trying to sound certain. “Then why care so much if she’s ignoring you? If you don’t care about her then you shouldn't care if she’s giving you the silent treatment,” Anika continued as you sat there and took in every word.
“I could easily move past this whole thing and forget about it entirely if I wanted to,” you defended not so convincingly. “Okay. Then move past it,” she challenged.
“Alright, I will then,” you said. “You’re gonna lose sleep over this,” Anika confidently said as she walked away to her room. You huffed as you ate your ice cream. I won’t lose sleep over Tara freakin’ Carpenter.
Later that night you were sprawled on your bed…and thinking about Tara.
-----------
A/N: wonder what's gonna happen next 🤔
Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno @smut-religiously777 @beautifulmongerbanditsalad @vanatalye
Let The Light In |5|
Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Chapter 5: Shit-faced
Summary: It's been weeks and Tara was still avoiding you, but that doesn't stop you from looking out for her
Warning(s): Swearing, smoking, mentions of underage drinking, intoxication & panic attack
Notes: I reaaally hope this suffices. I tried my best, I swear. I think this is the longest chap I've done for this series so far (5,162 words, usually it's right under 5k words) Shoutout to @iamnodens for giving me some inspiration. Sparked an idea for a plot-line I wanna pursue
Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

Anika saw you check your phone for the millionth time that night. “Come on, this is supposed to be a movie night. Not ‘check your phone a million times’ night,” Anika spoke up. You faced your phone back down.
“Sorry,” you mumbled. Anika looked over at you then back at the TV before speaking again. “Who has you so anxious?” She asked and you rolled your eyes.
“No one,” you say in a dry tone before grabbing the popcorn bowl and shoving a handful in your mouth. Your roommate let out a doubtful hum before turning her attention back to the TV.
Your right leg began to bounce as your thoughts once again led you to an overthinking spiral. It didn’t take long for you to think of the worst. You didn’t want Tara to never talk to you again. As much as you hated to admit it; along the way you started to enjoy Tara’s company.
There were times where she could brighten your mood when no one else could. Tara may not have known, but the weekend you were in Brooklyn you were having a panic attack when she messaged you.
Texting back and forth with Tara seemed to eventually calm you down. You would never forget that moment, and although the younger Carpenter had no idea how much she had helped you, you knew.
“If you bounce your leg any harder you’ll put a hole through the floor,” Anika remarked, pulling you from your memories. “Sorry,” you muttered back.
“Don’t be…what’s got you like this huh?” You start to play with your fingers. You sighed, debating whether or not you wanted to open up to Anika.
“It’s just that– girl from before still hasn’t talked to me and I guess you were right; it’s a hundred percent getting to me.”
Anika raised her eyebrows at you before responding,“She really must be if you’re admitting you were wrong. Have you tried confronting her about it?”
You let out a frustrated huff. “She always swerves away from me. I sent a text but I don’t wanna seem desperate.” You looked at Anika to see her giving you a deadpan look. “What?” You asked, feeling clueless.
She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose before answering. “Okay, listen up. I know you have never been a bright communicator, but come on. Only sending one text? At this point you might as well just corner her if you refuse to send her no more than that,” she chuckled dryly.
You sat there, genuinely considering that as an option. Anika watched as you thought about it and started to shake her head at you. “Y/N…no. I didn’t mean to literally corner her.”
“Fine.”
—
You patted your hands dry in the restaurant’s restroom. You looked in the mirror—making sure you were put together before walking out—but then suddenly saw a familiar face in your reflection. It was only for a moment but in that single moment you felt your breathing grow ragged, heart racing and stood frozen. You tightly gripped the counter, closing your eyes and murmuring to yourself.
“He’s not here. He’s not here. He’s not here. It’s all in your head. It’s all in your hea—”
“Y/N?” You heard. You exhaled and turned to face the voice.
No, no, no, no…Why is she here?
“Tara.” You replied, you were on the brink of tears as you tried to control your breathing. She quickly noticed the state you were in and carefully walked up to you. You took one step back, moving away from her. She looked at you again before gently placing a hand on your bicep.
“Y/N, are you okay?” Tara asked you in a gentle voice.
“Fine.” You murmured before quickly walking out of the bathroom. You ignored the worried glances you received from Henry and Anika, walking outside and leaning against a pillar.
You tried everything; you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, you counted, and even tried the three three three rule. But nothing was working. You felt your right hand creep up your chest as it subconsciously gripped it. Your knees felt weak, as if they would buckle from under you.
You fumbled in your pocket for a cigarette and lighter. You held the smoked cigarette to your lips, breathing it in and out. Your free hand’s fingers anxiously tapped on your thigh as you smoked. You felt like the world would collapse from beneath you, nothing to catch or save you. You started going down another spiral when suddenly you heard someone.
“Hey…” You looked to your left to see Tara once again.
“I swear I didn’t know you were gonna be here. Sam and I just decided to eat out since it’s not everyday she gets off from both jobs.” Tara said, moving to lean beside you.
“That’s nice,” you replied, putting out your cigarette and throwing it.
“Yeah…it is.” Tara smiled to herself as she said that. “Are you doing a little better now?” She asked you with a light nudge to your shoulder as she looked up at you.
“I guess.” Was all you answered with. Tara slightly nodded, before looking back ahead.
After a couple minutes of silence, you finally spoke up. “Why’ve you been ignoring me?” You asked without looking at her, your voice quiet. You looked down at your shoes, both hands in your pockets.
“I haven’t been…” Tara trailed off. She knew she was. She was fully aware of it. But, she wasn’t ready to tell you why.
“Yeah…okay,” you sighed, lifting yourself up from the pillar.
“See you around, Carpenter.” You made your way back into the restaurant. Tara stayed outside a little longer before going back to her own table.
You both glanced at each other from across the room while the other wasn’t looking.
—
You sat on the random couch while wearing a grumpy expression. Henry had, once again, dragged you to another party. The place was too crowded, sweat was everywhere, the burning smell of the alcohol was stronger than usual—to you at least—and Henry had gone off to God knows where. You just wanted out of this frat house.
The only thing keeping you sane was the company of Anika and Mindy. You didn’t talk to Mindy much in high school but she seemed cool. Anika and her were discussing couples costumes for halloween when suddenly you heard your name.
“What do you think, Y/N?” Your roommate asked as she sat in her girlfriend's lap on the love seat beside you.
“What do I think about what?”
“You think we could rock a zombie bride and groom for a couples costume this year?” Mindy asked for Anika.
“Yeah, you’d guys be awesome for that,” you answered in a monotone voice. You didn’t look at them as you spoke, staring off at a random spot in the room. Suddenly your eyes caught something that made your breath catch in your throat.
“Y/N? What’s the matter?” Anika asked. Mindy also furrowed her eyebrows at you, but then all their answers were answered when they followed your eye line.
There Chad was with his tongue down Tara’s throat.
There was no reason to have cared as much as you did. There was no reason the pain in your chest should be growing. There’s no reason for this to hit you as hard as it did. You and Tara weren’t dating, you didn’t like her—no, you didn’t. You couldn’t. You were just caught off guard. Yeah, that’s it. You never thought about Chad and Tara together so you’re just in some form of shock.
What about the chest pain? The feeling of your heart being ripped out–
Heartburn.
It was just heartburn, that was all it was. Nothing more, nothing less.
Suddenly you felt a hand touch your arm. You lightly flinch before looking to your left, seeing it was Anika. Why did they both look at you with such pity?
“Hey, how about we call it a night, yeah?” You nodded.
After Mindy and Anika kissed each other goodbye, you two started to make your way out before a thought told you to reach into your pocket. Empty.
“I think my phone slipped out of my pocket while I was sitting on the couch,” You told Anika and she waited in the car as you went inside to get it.
By the time you got back to the couch somebody was already sitting, and of course it had to be Tara. “Looking for this?” she smugly asked, pulling out your phone and showing it to you.
You let out a sigh of relief before trying to reach for your phone, but the minute you almost grab it, Tara pulls it back behind her back.
“Tara, not right now.” You really weren’t in the mood for this.
You sighed as you saw multiple stains on her shirt. “Someone’s in a mood,” she remarked, still looking up at you with a smile you couldn’t quite read.
“I’m not—” you sighed again, “—you have stains all over your shirt by the way. You’re a complete mess right now,” you murmured the last part, sitting down next to her trying to reach for your phone behind her but she’s quick. She pulls away again without thinking before responding.
“You know you pronounce your R’s in a funny way? Like, you say stuff like shirts and shorts but when you say them they sound the exact same. And then it’s, like, which one is it?” Tara rambled on.
You sat there, silently listening to every single word. You couldn’t help the slight smile that grazed your face. It was nice hearing her voice again after so long.
“Then I remembered you’re from Brooklyn, and you know what that means?”
“No, tell me,” you said, wanting to hear her ramble for a little longer.
“Brooklyn accent. So, that’s why you do that cute thing with your R’s!” You suddenly felt heat rush to your cheeks. Cute? Tara had used you and cute in the same sentence. She is completely plastered.
“Tara! Ethan and I are gonna play beer pong!” You both looked over to see Chad calling from the other side of the room.
You looked back at Tara, “I should go. See you, princess.” You got up, but suddenly felt a hand gently grasp your wrist. You looked down at her as you stood. She opened her mouth for a couple seconds before shutting it.
“You probably need this,” Tara pulled out your phone and placed it in your hand for you. The amount of contact she was giving you caused a flutter in your chest.
“I’m probably gonna head home,” she slurred. You bit the inside of your cheek as you grew concerned about her going home on her own in the state she was in.
“Mindy said you drove with Chad?”
“Mm, yeah. He doesn’t mind me driving myself home though. He said he’d—” she hiccupped, “—get a ride with Ethan.”
“Well I do mind. You’re too drunk to drive Tara.” She just stared up at you as you spoke. “You can stay over,” you lightly sighed as you offered your hand to her.
Tara bit her lip as she continued to stare up at you, but after a beat of silence she took your hand—not without tripping, causing her to fall into your arms.
“You okay?” You asked in a soft voice, and she simply nodded her head as she continued to look at you.
Tara had so much to tell you, but she stopped herself before she could.
You both walked out to your car—Tara clinging on to your arm as she walked like she had two left feet. You never thought Tara Carpenter could be any more clumsy than she already was, but here you were.
You opened the car door, “Sorry that it took so long.”
“I see you didn’t just bring back your phone,” Anika remarked, not hiding her knowing look. You strapped Tara in the backseat, making sure she was comfortable, before going to the driver’s seat.
“She’s too drunk to be her own ride, so I offered,” you responded. You gave Tara one last glance from the rear view mirror—which didn’t go unnoticed by Anika—to see that Tara was already passed out. You started to pull out and made your way to your apartment. There wasn’t much talking on the ride over. The only sound coming from the car was the music, but even that was put at a low volume. You tried your best to avoid the holes so Tara could sleep fine. You cursed your government for not using your taxes to fill holes with more cement.
By the time you got to your apartment Tara was still sound asleep. You told Anika she could get a head start and that you would catch up with her. After she left you got out of our seat and walked around your car to open the door to Tara’s seat. You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Tara…we’re here,” you whispered in a soft tone. Tara only shuffled slightly but never opened her eyes. You lightly squeezed her shoulder, “Come on. We’re here…”
You slightly shook your head.
“...You’re so lucky I live on the second floor.” You scooped her up and she subconsciously nuzzled her head in the nook of your neck. You carried her up the apartment stairs, and once you got to the door you knocked with your head—since your hands were obviously full at the moment.
That night, you didn’t mind sleeping on the couch.
—
Tara woke up with a pounding headache, causing her to groan as she slowly sat up. She rubbed her eyes, yawning. Suddenly everything came crashing down on her like a tidal wave.
“Shit shit shit,” she looked around for her phone. She couldn’t believe how stupid she was. Sam was going to kill her for sure—if she was actually home? Yeah…she’s going to kill her for sure.
It didn’t take long for her to realize where she was. “Fuck, not again,” she groaned into her hands.
If Tara had a nickel for everytime she woke up in your bed she would have two nickels—which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice. Before she could retrace her steps there were two knocks on the door.
“Come in,” She said and you opened the door slightly, peaking your head before fully coming inside.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I see you’ve, uh, woken up.” You awkwardly stood with your arms crossed.
“Yeah…”
Tara turned her head, closing her eyes and letting out an inaudible sigh before turning back to look at you. “Listen, I’m sorry this is, like, the second time. You shouldn’t have to take care of me while I’m shitfaced.”
You slightly pouted out your bottom lip, faintly shaking your head and waving her off.
“No problem.”
After a moment you finally break the awkward silence, “Why do you do this?”
“What?”
“This? Go out to parties so often, and have drink after drink?” Tara furrowed her eyebrows at you, not understanding where you were going with this.
“What do you mean by that?” She asked, feeling offended by the question.
“I just mean, don’t you get tired of it?”
Tara let out a faint scoff, “I like my life, thank you very much.” She now sat up a little straighter as she looked at you from where you stood.
“I didn’t mean it like that. Come on, Tara—you know that.”
“No, I don’t actually,” Tara got up from your bed, making her way to the door. She reached for the handle but you blocked it.
“Stop it, Y/N.”
“No, you stop it. What’s your problem, Carpenter? You really think I wouldn’t notice you ignoring me?”
Tara opened her mouth to speak but you quickly cut her off. “You even changed your seat in history. How is that nothing?” You hated how vulnerable you felt right now. The hurt was noticeable in your voice.
“I– I just need space…” Tara sighed, running her hands down her space.
“What—why? ...Did I do something?” You asked, feeling yourself grow smaller as she looked back at you.
Tara saw you staring down at her like a lost puppy. She hated what that was doing to her. She hated how you were able to make her feel things so easily.
“No! No, I just need space, okay? Not everything’s about you!” Her raised voice caused you to flinch and take a step back; Tara hated herself at that moment.
“Okay,” you replied in a quiet voice.
“Y/N I didn’t—”
“If you need anything, Anika’s up.”
Before Tara could say anything, you were gone.
—
You knew very little about the person who now sat where Tara previously did. Tara either paid her to switch or the woman really just didn’t mind. You haven’t introduced yourself to her yet.
You heard her name being called once; Charlotte. You were too stubborn to actually ask her for her name. It didn’t take long for Charlotte to pick up on your silence. Truth be told she noticed you in class before. So when Tara approached her about a seat change, she asked no further questions and agreed.
“Hey,” Charlotte finally spoke up one class. “I’m Charlotte, by the way.” You turned your head slightly to look at her. There was no denying her beauty.
“Y/N,” you simply responded before turning back to your notes. Charlotte turned back to her own work while she mustered her next words.
“So, you’re not much of a talker huh,” she nervously chuckled. You looked at her from the corner of your eye before averting your stare back to your notes. “I guess,” you murmured.
Throughout class you resisted looking back at Tara, and occasionally Charlotte would miss something so she would politely ask you for your notes, which you then would silently turn your papers for her to see.
You kept your head down and didn’t meet her gaze as you did this, but if you did you would have seen her warm smile; in a way you felt it.
After class you heard footsteps running up to you. You turned around to see Charlotte. “I just wanted to thank you for the notes,” she told you.
You spared a faint smile before responding, “No problem.” You watched as she took out a little piece of paper and handed it to you. When you took it you could see numbers written on it.
“I’d love to thank you over a cup of coffee or even dinner or something. That’s my number, so you can call or text whenever you want.” You lightly nodded at her as you looked at the paper.
“See you around, Y/N,” she smiled at you again before taking off.
“What do we have here?” The voice causes you to jump a bit, before rolling your eyes when you see the culprit.
“Geez, Anika. Quit sneakin’ up on my like that,” you sighed as you two started walking.
“Maybe if you were more self aware, you would notice your friend being right next to you,” Anika commented.
“Whatever.”
“Anyways, who was that?”
“Just some chick from my history class,” you said in a nonchalant manner.
“Does she happen to have your…interest?” She asked you with a quirked up eyebrow.
You thought for a second before answering. “I guess.”
“ ‘I guess’? Gee. How descriptive.” Anika remarked sarcastically. You rolled your eyes at her, adjusting the strap of your bag.
“I don’t know, okay? I’m still figuring some shit out, but maybe I do.” You shrugged, you and Anika taking a turn.
“By ‘figuring shit out’ do you mean, Tara?” She asked knowingly. That made you do a double take at your roommate.
“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed dramatically.
“You know I overheard that argument you two had, right?”
“I don’t know exactly what you heard but it’s not what you think,” you sighed, eyes looking everywhere but Anika. You hated when she was right.
“Really? Cause’ it seems like she’s the girl that has you so worked up.”
“Stop it.” You said with annoyance in your tone, growing slightly flustered from being called out.
—
You sat at the seat across from Charlotte . You both eventually had decided to go out on Friday night for dinner. You figured it wouldn’t hurt to take up her offer. So, that’s where you were; sitting in a diner with her across from you.
Your hands rested on your lap as you listened to her speak. She had cinnamon skin, gorgeous hair and dark brown eyes. You couldn’t help but admire dark brown eyes; they were so easy to drown in.
“So, enough about me. What about you?” She suddenly asked.
“What about me?” You echoed, taking a sip of your milkshake.
“I want to get to know you. Right now you’re just the quiet girl who I sit next to in history, and cute at that,” she winked at you.
You lightly blushed at the compliment before replying. “I don’t really know what to say. Mind giving me some starter questions?”
“Okay, you got any siblings?”
“Yup. Two brothers, Stephen and Oliver.”
“You like them?”
“Tolerate’ em.”
She let out a giggle before continuing. “Are you the oldest or youngest?”
“I’m in the middle, actually. Oliver’s the oldest and Stephen’s the youngest.”
You soon found out she had two sisters and two brothers, both her parents were doctors, and her favorite color’s purple. As the night went on you two found out a little more about one another. It was nice just talking. You weren’t sure if this was a date but the thought hung around in your head.
Would it be so bad if it was?
You walked the city’s streets with Charlotte, your jacket hung from your arm as she hugged her own closely.
“This was really nice, I’d love to do it again sometime,” She spoke up.
You looked at her then back at the ground, a small smile starting to graze your face.
“Yeah…that’d be nice,” You said genuinely, before she stopped at an apartment building.
“Well, this is me.”
“I’ll see you around?”
“Of course,” she smiled at you, placing a kiss on your cheek.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” she said before leaving.
You stood there, slightly stunned from the kiss. It was no secret that it had been a while since you’ve been in a genuine relationship.
Maybe—just maybe, Charlotte could be the one to change that.
—
The next day you went to work your shift. You passed the time like you usually did; if you weren’t serving customers you had music in your ears and cleaning counters that you’ve already wiped down a hundred times before that same day.
The bell above the door rings, but you don’t look up as you say, “Welcome to The Coffee Club.” Your voice was monotone.
The person stopped in their tracks as soon as they saw you. It wasn’t until they were shoved to the counter by someone beside them that you looked up.
You opened your mouth as you lifted your head, but quickly shut it as soon you saw the person.
“Oh. It’s you.” Your voice wasn’t laced with bitterness or rudeness, just a slight shock from seeing her here. If your voice was not a give away of that then your expression definitely was. Your eyes were widened a bit, your eyebrows were raised and you almost looked…flushed?
“Uh, what can I get you?” You asked, clearing your throat and trying to sound unfazed by her presence.
“Um, just a…” Tara trailed off as she suddenly forgot what she came here for. Mindy looked between you two.
“Hot chocolate?” You finished for Tara. All Tara could do was nod at you.
“And I’ll have a hot coffee; milk and sugar please,” Mindy spoke up, breaking whatever staring contest you and Tara had going on.
“I’ll, uh, get on that right now.” You put your pen behind your ear. Tara and Mindy sat at a table nearby as you prepared their orders.
“What was that?”
Tara groaned at her friend, holding her face with her hands. “I don’t know. I had completely forgotten she works here most days,” she answered, her voice coming out slightly muffled due to her hand still covering her face.
“You’re still giving her the silent treatment, aren’t you?” Mindy asked even though she already knew the answer.
“Well, I uh…kind of made it worse…”
“How?” Mindy asked, slightly dragging out the H while furrowing her eyebrows.
“We had a bit of an argument last week,” Tara answered, the memories of that morning painfully flashing through her mind.
“About what?”
“I snapped at her over something really stupid, and—God I can’t stop thinking about her face when I did that.” Tara let out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding in.
“By snapped, what do you mean, like, you yelled at her or something?” Tara sighed and nodded, looking away—feeling ashamed of herself.
“I think you two just need to talk, for real this time.”
“I don’t want to—” She inhaled, looking down at her hands.
“Don’t want to what?”
“Hurt her again…” Tara answered in a quiet voice.
“Tar, listen to me, you’re one of the best people I know, and you can be gentle when you want to be. Just be you,” Mindy told her honestly.
“Maybe when you two finally make up you can make that dream you had a reality and make out already—”
“Mindy!”
Before Tara could say anything else, you walked up to the table with their drinks.
“One hot coffee with milk and sugar, and a hot chocolate,” you repeated their order. Mindy said thank you, and so did Tara—not without Mindy kicking her under the table to do so—before taking a sip of the steaming hot drink.
The mug covered her eye line, so she didn’t see you sneak a Strawberry donut with sprinkles—or as she likes to call it, a Homer Simpson donut—in front of her. By the time she did notice you were already gone.
You had a habit of disappearing without saying goodbye.
When Mindy and Tara finished, they made their way back to the apartment. They walked into the apartment to find Chad and Ethan playing Resident Evil four.
“You’re still playing this game?” Tara inquired, pulling off her jacket and throwing it somewhere. Mindy let out a slight chuckle before making her way to the kitchen.
“All. Fucking. Day.” Sam replied, coming into the living room.
“I don’t blame them. Have you seen Ada?”
“They haven’t gotten up in seven hours.”
“I got it,” was all Tara said, before walking away.
Five seconds later she came back with a spray bottle.
—
The doorbell rings, interrupting you mid sentence as you were on the phone with Anika.
“Hey, I gotta go. Talk to ya later?” You said your goodbyes to each other before walking up to the door. You weren’t sure who could be visiting but whoever it was was growing impatient.
“Alright, alright! I’m coming,” you called out, walking up to the door.
You finally unlocked and opened it to—unexpectedly—Tara. This took you by surprise which was evident from your expression. There wasn’t much to go off from but Tara’s known you long enough to read even your littlest details.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” There was a beat of awkward silence before Tara finally spoke up again.
“Can I come in? I need to talk to you,” she told you. You responded by opening the door wider, letting her inside the apartment.
Her eyes wandered around the room before landing them back on you. You quickly averted your gaze, realizing you have been staring at the younger Carpenter a little too long.
“Been a while since I’ve been here,” Tara said, sitting down on the couch.
You let out a dry chuckle before responding. “You’re telling me…”
Tara noticed you were still standing, choosing to lean against the wall rather than sit near her. Just then, she remembered why she came here.
“So, what do you want?” You asked unkindly.
Tara took a second to muster what she wanted to say. She didn’t want to mess this up. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing this time.
She didn’t want to hurt you again.
“I’m sorry.”
“What?” You raised an eyebrow, not expecting an apology.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you, and I’m sorry for blatantly avoiding you for the past few weeks,” she said in one breath.
“Wait—I wasn’t expecting an apology. I thought you were gonna yell at me again or something,” you poorly joked with a dry chuckle.
“That wasn’t my best moment,” she said with shame in her voice. She could never forget your face that morning or how you backed away from her as if she would hurt you.
You looked down at your shoes, considering Tara’s words. You should get your revenge—make her pay for the past few weeks. But instead you decided against it, for whatever reason, you decided against it. Maybe it was her voice as she spoke, maybe it was the bags under her eyes, or maybe it was just simply her. Whatever it was, it caused you to let her off easy.
“I’ll accept your apology on one condition.”
“Anything,” Tara replied, a little too quickly.
“Stop avoiding me,” you said in a softer voice, and you slowly began to take the seat beside her.
“Deal,” Tara promised, looking at you.
“Pinky swear?” You held up your pinky, for her take.
Tara couldn’t help the smile that grew as she took your pink in hers.
“Pinky swear.”
“Now that you’re not avoiding me anymore, you wanna go over last class’s notes?” Already moving on as if she hadn’t been giving her the silent treatment for the past for weeks, and you weren’t still curious as to why.
Your pinkies unlocked, Tara missing the contact.
“Well, you know how much I looove doing that,” Tara sarcastically answered.
“Ha. Ha.” You got up from the couch, “I’m gonna go get my binder. Give me like two seconds.” You said before rushing away to your room like a child who was having a playdate, rushing off to grab a toy for you and your friend to play with.
Tara couldn’t stop smiling to herself at the sight of you. It had been far too long since she’s seen you one on one like this. She hated to admit it but she missed you more than she realized. Now that she was thinking about it, she missed a lot of things about you; your smile, your voice, your humor, how you lit up a room with just your presence, even that fuzzy feeling you gave her.
Oh.
Oh, Mindy was right. Tara had somehow found herself crushing on you.
“Fuck.”
-----------
A/N: Platonic!Chara>>> (dw gonna do that justice later)
I wonder who R saw in the mirror...

Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno @smut-religiously777 @beautifulmongerbanditsalad @vanatalye @alexkolax @andsoigotabutterfly
Let The Light In |6|
Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Chapter Six: Knight In Shining Armor
Summary: Tension rises between you & Tara when you, once again, find yourself protecting her—old habits showing themselves
Warning(s): Swearing, angst, Fr*nkie, grief (if you squint), intoxication, mentions of social anxiety & underage drinking
Notes: Took a while but it's finally here! Also throwing it out there that my face claim for Charlotte is Sofia Wylie<3
Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

Tara was walking down the streets of Manhattan, finally done with her classes for the day. It had been a long week and Tara was just thankful it was finally the weekend. She walked with one earbud in while her other hand subconsciously clenched her keys in her right pocket. It was a habit she had picked up not too long after what happened back in Woodsboro; that plus the pepper spray, taser, whistle, and expandable baton Sam always made her take before leaving the house, meant she was more than ready to defend herself if needed.
As she continued to walk, she felt something fury brush up against her. She looked down to find a gray cat, brushing itself against her. Tara smiled to herself before crouching down to get a better look at the cat. “Hey, there…do you have a name?” She looked for a collar but didn’t find one.
Just then, the sky let out a loud grumble. She looked up at the gray skies then back at the cat, thinking. “I can’t just leave you out here to get drenched. Come on, let me take you home,” she gently picked up the cat, who didn’t protest.
By the time she got home, she was soaked. Her mascara was running and her hair was damp. She was freezing cold; she had wrapped her jacket around the cat so he wouldn’t get wet.
Sam began to walk out from the kitchen as she spoke, “Hey Tar– you’re soaked.”
“Yeah no shit, Sam.”
“Is… Is that a cat?”
“...Yes…” Tara said with a sheepish smile; she had completely forgotten about the ‘needing to convince Sam to keep him’ part.
“Tara, no.”
“Sam, yes.”
Sam sighed as she made a quick trip to the bathroom, coming back with a towel and wrapping it around Tara. “You can barely take care of yourself–”
“Not true!”
“–How do you expect to take care of a whole ass cat?”
Tara rolled her eyes, still holding the cat protectively in her arms. “Come on, I’m not a kid. I can take care of a cat. I’ll buy his food, change his litter box—all that stuff!”
“I don’t know…”
“Please, Sammy,” Tara begged, pouting out her bottom lip. She gave Sam the same look she’d give her whenever she wanted more cookies when they were younger.
“Alright—alright, fine, you win,” Sam huffed and an excited smile broke out on Tara’s face.
“Yes!” Tara looked down at the cat victoriously.
“But Tara, I swear, I better not step in cat shit.”
“No cat shit. Got it.”
—
Dook.
That’s what Tara named her new found cat—named after the Babadook. It had been only a few days since she found him and he’s earned the title of, “my little menace,” from Tara. In the few days Dook has been here he has scratched Chad five times, ripped up Mindy’s sweater in five different spots, and constantly hisses at Sam during the most random times. Why? Sam has no idea, but Tara made the theory it was, “just to mess with her.”
So far, the only person Dook has been even remotely soft to was Tara. She didn’t mind that at all; she enjoyed coming home to Dook’s company—her room feeling less empty than it usually feels.
It was the following Tuesday; she sat not too far from the door as she re-watched Fear Street 1994 while waiting for you. Just as she was about to check her phone for the time, she heard a couple knocks on the door. Before Sam could call out for Tara to answer it, Tara jumped up and made her way to the door. Sam only raised an eyebrow before going back to what she was doing.
Tara counted five seconds in her head before opening the door.
“Took you long enough,” she said with a slight eye roll.
“Afternoon to you too, Carpenter. So, you're gonna let me in or…”
“Well you’re as patient as ever,” Tara remarked sarcastically as she opened the door wider, letting you inside. You placed your bag down, sitting on the couch and taking out your notes as Tara sat a couple cushions over.
“So, I was thinking we could start with Friday’s notes and work our way to today since I couldn’t make Friday—” You suddenly heard Tara let out a dry chuckle, causing you to raise your eyebrows as you looked at her.
“Is there something you’d like to share with the class, Ms. Carpenter?” You quipped, looking up from your papers and at her.
“Oh nothing…just that you’ve been missing a lot of study sessions lately and–”
“I wouldn’t call two a lot–”
“–and I don’t know why I have to suffer through extra work all because you wanna swap spit.”
You let out a dry laugh, looking at the younger Carpenter before realizing she was dead serious.
“Oh—Oh you’re serious? Well, how about those two whole weeks you missed over some petty reason—I don't know what the reasoning was, but I know for a fact it was a hundred percent petty.”
“You know what, screw these notes,” Tara said before grabbing your binder from you.
“Hey—Hey! Wait just a minute there—what are you–?”
“We’re watching a movie,” she informed—not asking—after shutting your binder, putting it somewhere you couldn’t reach unless you stood up and walked to it.
“We're a week and a half behind on study sessions.”
“Not my problem.”
“It’s literally your problem—our problem, actually.”
“Gosh, could you just not stress out for, like, two seconds? You’ll be fine. Now, a little birdy told me you like The Nightmare Before Christmas?” Tara told you, reaching for the remote.
“Yeah… I do.”
“Great. We’ll watch that.”
You didn’t need to know how boring she found the movie; she wasn’t looking at the screen much anyways.
—
Sam sat in her room, reading her book as she enjoyed the silence—wait. It’s silent. Why is it so quiet? It’s never so quiet when you’re over. The most she’s heard in the last thirty minutes were hushed voices, but nothing loud enough she could make out. She suddenly started to think about what could possibly be going on in the other—unsupervised—room. She could no longer concentrate on her book as her protective side took over.
You slightly leaned forward as you watched the screen with all your attention. Tara couldn’t help but wear a small smile when she noticed your intense focus. She pulled out of her gaze when she noticed you make a double take at your foot; just then, she saw a certain furry haired animal brushing up against your leg.
To her surprise, Dook didn’t claw at you. As a matter of fact, he seemed…fond of you?
“Hello, there…” You greeted Dook before gently picking him up. If anybody else had picked him up, they would’ve been clawed at in seconds. Tara furrowed her eyebrows as she watched you interact with her cat; the same cat who’s been an absolute ass to anybody who wasn’t her—well, before now.
You scratched him behind his left ear, causing him to let out a satisfied purr. It was then when you finally said something to Tara. “Since when did you have a cat?”
“Got him pretty recently, actually. He was just roaming the streets of Manhattan and had no collar so that’s how he ended up here.”
“Well, does this adorable face have a name?” You asked, looking at the cat as you complimented him.
Tara failed to fight another smile, showing off her dimples as she answered, “His name’s Dook.”
“Like, Babadook?”
“Yeah…” She watched as you continued to be sweet with Dook; he sat comfortably in your lap, looking a lot less grumpy than he usually is.
Suddenly, Sam abruptly enters the living room, causing Dook to hiss at her before moving back into his original position on your lap.
“Sam, hey. Something wrong?” Tara asked her older sister.
“Uh, I just wanted to check up on you guys; it’s been pretty quiet.”
“Oh, yeah, we decided to watch a movie instead.”
Sam looked at the scene, recognizing the movie—her curiosity increased.
“Nightmare Before Christmas? But I thought you–”
“Have no harsh judgment regarding the movie? Yeah. I know.”
“No, I mean, don’t you find it really bor–”
“Entertaining? Yes, Sam. We know this.” Tara let out a dry cough, hoping Sam would just drop the topic all together.
“Okay…well I’m going to order some pizza. Are you staying over for dinner, Y/N?” Sam inquired, moving on, much to Tara’s relief.
You looked at the time, thinking as you did, before looking at Sam from where you sat. “If it’s no trouble.”
“Of course not. I’ll order it right now,” she said before walking away, pulling out her phone as she did so.
“What was that about?” You asked Tara with a raised eyebrow, referring to what her and Sam were going back and forth about.
Tara opened her mouth, not even sure what she was about to say, when she heard someone knocking. “Oh, I should probably get that,” Tara quickly got up to make her way to the door, relieved at being excused from answering.
“What are you guys doing here?” She immediately asked after opening the door to find Chad, Mindy, Anika and Ethan on the other side of the door.
“Good to see you too, T,” Mindy quipped.
Tara rolled her eyes, “I just mean, I wasn’t expecting you guys today.”
“We made plans last week for movie night.”
“And since it’s my turn to choose, we’re watching 10 Things I Hate About You,” Anika added in a cheery tone.
“Um,” Tara looked over her shoulder to you, before looking back at her friends, “One second.”
“Wait, who were you loo–” Before Chad could finish his question, Tara shut the door, making her way towards you.
“So, uh–”
“Heard the whole thing.”
Tara lightly nodded, holding her wrist in her other hand behind her back as she continued. “Does this mean… you’re going to go?”
You were about to say yes but the words caught in your throat when you finally looked at the expression Tara wore.
You thought for a moment, putting down the bag you were just packing.
“Do you want me to?”
“Well…want’s a strong word–”
“Yes or no, Tara,” you said, looking at her.
Tara mumbled something incoherent, looking away from your gaze.
“You’re gonna have to speak up, mumbles,” you teased the younger Carpenter.
She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “I wan—I want you to stay. Happy?” She huffed, not even sure why she puts up with you.
You smile smugly at her, “Fine. ‘Guess I’m staying.”
—
It was awkward—at least, for you, it was. Tara and her friends seemed to get each other, which is great for them, but you felt almost like a chaperone the entire time you were there. You tried to distance yourself as much as possible and when you did find yourself surrounded by the group of friends, you stuck by Anika.
You always found yourself gravitating toward a familiar presence whenever you got caught in social situations like this. You spent most of your own fourteenth birthday party—that you didn’t even want—attached to Henry’s side, following him around like a puppy. You often stuck by people who you found comfort in. You’ve known Henry since daycare years and Anika has been there since she’s entered your life.
You look at the time to see only an hour has passed as you sigh to yourself. Why were you here again?
“Hey,” you heard Tara say, opening her bedroom door to find you on her bed.
Oh, that’s why.
“Hey.”
“You’re not enjoying yourself,” she said as a matter of fact, feeling a little defeated for some reason.
“Hm? Oh no—no this is, uh, great. Yeah, I just love hearing about the same football story over and over again while your curly haired friend continues to make passes at me…so fun,” your voice couldn’t be any more sarcastic. It started out as you wanting to lie, telling her it was going alright—truly! But you can’t help but be your usual sarcastic self, especially around Tara.
“You’re having the worst time ever, aren’t you?”
You looked at her apologetic expression, exhaling as you adjusted your posture a bit. Tara walks over to sit across from you.
“Look…Tar, it’s nothing personal. I’m just—I’m just not good with this stuff.”
“What do you mean?” Tara inquired genuinely.
You sighed, pressing down on your thumbnail with your index finger as you spoke. “I’m not good with…unfamiliarity I guess, or whatever. And—and socializing and all that shit just doesn’t come naturally to me—at least not like it does for people like Anika, and Chad—or you.”
Tara continued to listen to your words, giving you her full attention as you opened up to her. You blinked back at Tara, feeling like you just overshared far too much.
“This was stupid. Forget it.” You got up to leave but just as you reached for the door handle, you felt slender fingers wrap themselves around your wrist.
“It’s not stupid,” you heard Tara speak. You turned your head to look at her. “If you ever want to talk about it more… I’m here. That won’t change.”
You swallowed, taking in Tara’s words as you processed what she was saying. You didn’t trust your voice, only settling for a light nod before leaving Tara’s bedroom.
By the time Tara also left—waiting a couple minutes, wanting to give you some time—you had already made your escape.
When you got home that night, the feeling of dread took over you. It felt like there was barbed wire wrapped around your throat as you tried your hardest not to cry, because you knew if you did there was a chance you’d never stop. Memories of him flashed through your mind as you tried to shake them away, but it was no use. No matter how much you tried to escape it, Dewey's voice continued to ring in your head.
Dewey placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, looking at you with genuine eyes as he spoke, “I’m here. That won’t change.”
—
Tara looked around with furrowed eyebrows, looking at the sea of people. She was currently at a Halloween frat party; she chose to go with a pirate costume this year.
Tara was feeling indecisive about her costume this Halloween but then she got the idea when she remembered something you told her; for your first seven Halloweens, your mom had you dressed up as a pirate. Tara could tell you would not be wearing a pirate costume again any time soon.
Because of your high-sea past, Tara thought dressing up as a pirate would be a fun way to mess with you—well, if you were actually here. You were nowhere in sight. Tara squinted her eyes as she tried looking through the crowd—still no sign of you.
Mindy noticed her friend looking around the room from her seat, which was odd. By this time Tara would be drinking, dancing, or even playing beer pong with Chad—but not sitting down.
Before Mindy could ask anything, Tara turned to Anika, asking her something that answered Mindy’s unspoken question.
“Hey, where’s Y/N?” Tara asked, her voice was slightly raised due to the blaring music.
“At home. She couldn't—or rather refused to make it,” Anika answered the younger Carpenter.
“Oh,” Tara let out, turning to look ahead.
Mindy and Anika glanced at each other, already being on the same page. “Why? Missed her?” Mindy inquired, smirking behind her beer bottle right before taking a sip.
Tara lightly scoffed, “Pfft no.” Tara dramatically rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.
“Y/N?” Tara heard Anika say; she immediately sat up, uncrossing her arms and fixing her demeanor. Her expression instantly dropped when she saw who you were with.
She did not know much about Charlotte. She seemed nice though. Nice enough. Tara heard from Anika that you’ve been “hanging out” with Charlotte for a few weeks now but haven’t exactly assigned labels yet. That made sense; you were never one for labels.
She suddenly snapped out of her gaze when she realized you and Charlotte were walking towards them.
“Hey, guys,” you said in an anything but enthusiastic tone.
“Hey, Y/N. Thought you weren’t coming,” Anika pointed out, not unkindly.
“Me too but this one,” you pointed with your thumb to Charlotte, “is quite the debater.”
“I was captain of the debate team back in high school,” Charlotte smirked.
“Of course you were,” there was a slight teasing tone in your voice as you and Charlotte shared a look. Tara didn’t like that. She didn’t like that at all. You teased her. You gave her looks nobody else knew the meaning behind except you two.
Tara cleared her throat, causing you and Charlotte to look away from each other and at her. “So, you're gonna actually act like you’re here as a college student or a chaperone?” Tara joked and a small but soft smile grazed your face.
“The night’s still young, Carpenter,” you replied, the smile she had been missing never faltering.
“Oh! Daisy’s here, I’m going to say hi. Catch you later?” You heard Charlotte speak from beside you.
You looked over at her and lightly nodded, “Okay.” She placed a quick kiss on your cheek, catching you off guard, before going to her friend.
You sat down in the seat between Tara and Anika—who was sitting in Mindy’s lap—and exhaled, already exhausted from being here.
“You’ve got,” Anika said, pointing to your cheek where there was a lipstick stain. You raised your left hand to your right cheek as your roommate shook her head.
“No the other—” You, once again, completely dodged the spot she was pointing at and Tara groaned.
“Dude, you’re helpless,” she said with an eye roll before reaching over and wiping the spot for you. She softly rubbed your left cheek as you looked at her. It didn’t take long for you to notice how close her face was to yours.
“There…” Tara trailed off, suddenly growing shy when she too realized how close her face was to yours.
Mindy and Anika look at each other before getting up. “We’re gonna dance. You kids behave,” Mindy said before walking away with her arm wrapped around Anika.
“Let me guess… you’re a homicidal maniac?” She looked at your casual attire.
You smiled at her, tilting your head back and turning it to look at her, “You know me too well.”
You both shared a short laugh before it went silent again. Suddenly, you two realized this is the first you’ve both spoken to each other since that night at Tara’s place.
“Hey, so, uh, you didn’t say goodbye…” Tara said sheepishly, refusing to meet your gaze as she played with the hem of her costume. She didn’t have to specify what she was talking about, you just knew.
“Oh yeah, I was just tired so I decided to call it a night.”
Tara nodded understandingly as you looked down at her hands that toyed with the fabric of her costume.
“So…was this,” you gestured to her costume, “planned or…? You both laughed again before she answered you.
“Course’ not. I just…happened to have decided on being a pirate a couple days after you told me your ‘first seven years of dread’ story.” Another laugh was shared between you two.
“Well, you look good,” you complimented. Tara couldn’t fight the heat that rushed to her cheeks as the compliment hit her ears. She was about to respond when suddenly you felt your phone vibrate.
You pulled out your phone, reading the text to yourself before putting it back in your pocket.
“It’s Charlotte, she wants me to meet her by the pool.”
“Oh. Yeah, totally.”
“Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone, princess.” You smiled at her as you sat up from your seat, Tara’s head tracked your movement.
“Me? I would never.”
—
One thing.
You asked her for one, very simple, thing. And now? Now, Mindy and Anika were calling you back inside because apparently Tara had the luck of being near Frankie of all people tonight.
By the time you made your way inside—as quickly as you possibly could—you could see Chad also trying to stop the situation. You made your way over to the staircase, appearing from behind Chad.
“Let’s stay down here,” you said—not asking.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” Frankie said, causing you to let out a humorless chuckle.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, you did,” you remarked, feeling your hands start to ball up into tight fists. Before you could say anything else, Tara walks down a couple steps and is now standing in front of you as Chad keeps a careful eye on Frankie. “No, Y/N it’s fine. I want you,” you heard her say in a drunken voice. Far too drunk to consent.
Frankie walks down, getting close to your face as he wears a disgusting grin. “Yeah, see Y/N? It’s fine. She wants to.” He turned around, roughly grabbing Tara’s arm. His grip causes Tara to let out a sound of pain, tripping on the stairs.
Without a second thought you pull him by the collar of his shirt, pushing him roughly against the wall; picture frames come crashing down but don’t give them a second look as hear glass shatter.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?!” You pushed your right arm harder against his throat, pinning him against the wall as your free hand tightly gripped his shirt. “Serousily, where the fuck do you get off!”
Chad checked on Tara as you had Frankie pinned to the wall. You wanted to hurt him. You wanted to hurt him so bad. What was stopping you? You could do it. You look down at the shards of glass, itching to grab a piece. Suddenly, you saw that sinister smile. His sinister smile. That’s why you couldn’t.
But when you looked back at Frankie, you quickly forgot about everything that was stopping you. All you had to do was press into his throat a little harder and–
“I got it from here, Y/N.” You turned around to see Sam holding a taser. You immediately got the hint, getting off of Frankie.
“Hi! Sorry to interrupt, I'm just going to tase you really quick,” Sam said before tasing Frankie right in the crotch.
“Fuck!” He dropped to his knees, holding onto his stomach as he groaned in pain.
“You bitch!” He yelled, earning a swift kick between his legs—making the pain worse—from you.
“Watch your mouth,” you said before making your way towards Tara. “You okay?”
“It’s that psycho girl from reddit!” Someone shouted from the crowd that surrounded you.
“Hey, don’t you have something better to do rather than stand around here all day?” Anika shouted at the crowd as Mindy shooed them away.
—
Tara walks ahead of the group as she feels her frustration take over. Sam tries to catch up to her as she calls for her, “Tara, will you stop!” Tara rolls her eyes, refusing to stop as she responds. “I cannot believe you did that, you embarrassed me!”
“I was trying to help you!”
Tara suddenly turns around, “And look what happened!” Her voice raises as it runs hot with anger. “You're out of my life for five years then you can't even leave me alone for five seconds,” Tara shouts with a throw of her arms.
“Because you're not dealing with what happened to us. Have you ever gone to see the counselor at least once?”
You looked at Tara, studying every expression she wore on her face. You wanted her to be okay. You knew it wasn’t that simple, but you still couldn’t help but want it. You hated seeing her like this. You never liked seeing her like this.
You checked up on her when she was at the hospital, relieved she was asleep when you got there. You didn’t want her to think it meant anything. You were just making sure she still had a pulse. Who else would you get into fights with? That’s what you told yourself, 'cause it’s true! You weren't overly concerned or anything. But it was the bare minimum amount of concern to have when you found out somebody you knew was recently used as somebody else's pin cushion.
She’s Tara Carpenter, she’ll bounce back in no time, you told yourself. You can still remember the shock on all her friends' faces when they saw you sitting by her hospital bedside. They entered the room and when you saw them, you immediately stood up.
“Sorry, I just found out about what happened and wanted to check on her.” You put your hands in your pocket, feeling uncomfortable with the eyes on you. You couldn’t tell what was going through their heads. “But she’s breathing, so I’ll get going now.” When you’re about to walk out the door, Chad puts his hand on your shoulder which causes you to stop. Was he about to punch you? “You’re welcome to stay, dude.” Oh.
You were welcome to stay. Did you want to?
You shook your head,“No, it’s okay. You guys should spend your time with her—unbothered.” You said before walking out of the hospital, not waiting for a response.
Maybe you cared little more than you’d ever admit.
You snap out of your thoughts as you hear Tara’s voice again.
“Because I know what mine is—I’m going to get my degree, become a lawyer, and live my life, my life,” Tara’s voice was firm. Certain.
—
Two soft knocks could be heard from the other side of the door. Tara was about to tell whoever it was to go away, but then she realized who those knocks belonged to.
“Come in.”
“Hey,” you greeted, carrying a bottle of ibuprofen and a cup of water.
“Hey,” she replied, head tracking your movement as you put the items down and got closer to where she sat at the edge of her bed.
“Mind if I…” You gestured to the open spot next to her and she patted it. You sat down, knees touching hers as you looked down at your hands that rested in your lap. Tara’s gaze from you only broke when she felt the feeling of embarrassment all over again.
You noticed a change in her demeanor, causing you to finally glance at her. “I don’t think she meant for to…make you feel embarrassed or anything,” you tried to comfort. You were never good at this kind of stuff.
“I know… I just—I just completely embarrassed myself out there. You guys probably think a lot less of me now…”
You lightly nudge her shoulder, getting her to look at you again. “Hey, no, okay? We just wanna make sure you're safe,” your facial expression matched your honest tone as you spoke.
Tara turned her head away, a smirk slowly growing on her face. She turned back to look at you, ignoring how close your faces were. “We?”
You rolled your eyes as Tara kept hers on you, smirk never falling. “Don’t let it get to that big ass ego of yours.”
“Aww, you caree about me,” Tara teased. You felt your cheeks warm up as you grew flustered.
“I care about you the—bare minimum amount,” you said unconvincingly.
Tara shoved you a bit, “Liar.”
You shoved her back, “Most honest person you’ll ever meet.”
Tara shoved you back again. “Liar.”
“Oh, you really wanna play this game?” You inquired, turning your head to her.
Tara still smirked as she responded, “I could do this all night.”
Your faces were, once again, inches apart. Tara’s eye line meets your lips as tension builds in the room. Then suddenly the door opens, causing you and Tara to pull apart.
“Oops, sorry I didn’t mean to cock block you,” Quinn said as you and Tara silently cringed.
“Please...don't say cock," Tara said while slightly grimacing.
Quinn shrugged then looked at you. “Don’t believe we’ve officially met. I’m Quinn,” she held out her hand. You glanced at Tara before accepting the red head’s hand.
“I’m–”
“Y/N? Yeah, I’ve heard lots about you.” You couldn’t tell what that could’ve meant, not noticing the shared look between Quinn and Tara.
“Don’t you have, like, a guy to see or something?” Tara asked, trying to get Quinn out of here as soon as possible.
“Well, Tara’s right, I should get going,” Quinn said, immediately getting the hint. “See you around, Y/N,” she winked at you.
“That was…” You trailed off, not able to meet Tara’s gaze.
“Embarrassing? Oh, extremely.”
—
“Is Tara okay?” Charlotte asked over the phone. You held your phone to your ear as you grabbed a box of leftover pizza from the fridge with one arm.
“She will be…” You thought about the younger Carpenter as you spoke.
“I’m glad.” There was a beat of silence before she spoke again. “I uh… didn’t know you could fight like that.”
“What do you mean?” You placed the box on the table, sitting down.
“You had Frankie pinned. A man with his frame and build was completely defenseless under your hands. It was impressive,” her last words came with a flirty tone.
“Oh, yeah?” You decided to match her tone.
“Yeah… Do you want to come over tomorrow? My roommate's visiting his boyfriend so I’ll be pretty lonely—some company would be nice."
You bit your bottom lip, thinking as you looked at your calendar. “Yeah—yeah, that works. What time should I stop by?”
“Six good?”
You looked at your calendar again.
“Can’t do six…” You said, looking at Tara’s name on your calendar. “How about eight?”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you then, super soldier.”
You let out a light laugh, “Yeah, yeah. See you then.”
—
Tara was on the phone with Mindy, intensely debating over American Psycho, when she heard a couple knocks on the door.
She got up from the couch as she said goodbye to Mindy, hanging up. She opened the door to see you standing there with your bag on your shoulder.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Tara realized it had been a full ten seconds since she opened the door. She moved to let you inside, and you sat in your usual spot.
“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Tara inquired as she sat, hugging her knees.
“He didn’t really give us much to work with on Friday so, uh, just whatever we missed last time,” you said, not even looking at her as you looked around your stuff.
“Looking for something?”
“Yeah my pen. It was here five seconds ago–”
“This pen?” Tara said, pulling something from behind your ear. You looked at her and realized she was holding your pen. She hands it to you as you let out a timid chuckle, embarrassed at your lack of attention.
“Are you…alright?” She asked, looking at your features as you spoke.
“It’s just exams and stuff. I’ve kind of been all over the place trying to prepare—but that’s why I’m here. To study. So let’s begin,” you pull out your binder, flipping to the right folder.
Tara hesitantly followed along, keeping an eye on you.
After an hour and a half, you looked at the time and silently cursed as you got up and gathered your things.
“Leaving already?”
“Yeah, I’m meeting Charlotte around eight. So, I gotta get going,” you packed everything, racking your brain for anything else you could be forgetting.
“Oh..okay…”
You turned to look at Tara, “What is it?”
She cleared her throat, slightly shaking her head. “Nothing, have fun—oh, and don’t forget your pen,” she dismissed as she held up said pen to you.
You wear an embarrassed tight lipped smile, slowly taking the pen from her. “Thanks,” you put the pen in your bag before zippering it up.
“Uh, hey,” you heard Tara call out.
You stopped your movement, turning back to Tara. “See you later?”
You lightly nodded, a small smile on your face. “Of course.”
—
Tara found herself blasting Lana Del Rey as she wore a pout. Why was she wearing a pout? She had no idea. It was just there, and for some reason she was in a sour mood. She also knew she despised you. Possibly more than she did before; she was just starting to adjust then you had to go and make things even more confusing for her.
Tara Looked at her seeing as she laid in her bed, petting Dook who rested beside her. She suddenly remembered the beer in the fridge.
Sam was in therapy, Quinn was seeing another one of her hookups—what’s the harm?
Five beer cans later and she was more than buzzed. The urge to call you was getting harder and harder to resist with each can. She knew she shouldn’t, but she just couldn’t stop herself from opening your contact.
“Tara?” You asked, confused as to why she’s calling you so randomly.
“Y/NN,” she slurred into the phone. “Have I ever told you you’re so gorgeous it actually hurts?”
“I—uh, where are you right now?”
“Hommee. Where else?” She said, followed by a hiccup.
“I’m coming over.”
—
You knocked two times; you could hear Tara struggling with the door knob from the other side before finally opening it.
“What are you doing here?” Tara inquired with a raised eyebrow. It seemed she forgot about your call from just ten minutes ago.
“Goodness, you’re drunk.”
“I am not drunk.”
“Oh, yeah? Then tell the time,” you crossed your arms as you looked at her. She turned to the nearby clock, “I am not drunk!” She literally told it.
“Jesus,” you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Come on, let’s get you to bed,” you walked over to her but then unexpectedly felt a shove to your chest.
“I don’t—I don’t need your help.”
You exhaled, knowing all too well about the venomous look she wore. “You don’t mean that, come on.”
“I do! I don’t even want you here,” she slurred as she shoved your chest again.
“Too bad then. Cause’ I’m not leaving you like this.”
Tara had used up all the energy she had left to shove you, so she couldn’t even fight you off as you tried to walk her to her bedroom.
“Fuck you,” she gritted.
“I know.”
“No. You don’t know!” Tara yelled. “I don’t need a knight in shining armor,” she continued as you looked down at her. “I’m not a princess who has to be saved all the time.”
“Come on, I know you’re no–”
“This is what you do,” she pulled her arm away from you, “you just swoop in when everything’s fine and completely ruin shit. You think you’re pleasant to be around? Just when I think I have my life figured out, you have to come in and ruin it,” Tara spoke with pure conviction, no slurring in her voice.
“I—I don’t know what to say.”
She let out a dry laugh before saying, “When do you ever.”
“You’re drunk, Tara… Please just let me get you to bed so you don't say anything else you’ll regret in the morning.”
“I don’t regret anything—and I’ll bring my own ass to bed.”
“Okay,” you softly said. You watched as she walked down the hall and to her bedroom. You waited a few minutes, getting the ibuprofen and water ready, before entering her bedroom carefully. Just as suspected, she was already asleep. You silently place the medicine and water on her nightstand before looking at her resting demeanor.
Oh Tara, what am I gonna do with you?
-----------
A/N: I 100% know you guys aren't expecting the family member reveal I'm gonna do for R at some point (clues are scattered...)
Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno @smut-religiously777 @beautifulmongerbanditsalad @vanatalye @alexkolax @andsoigotabutterfly
Let The Light |7|
Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Chapter Seven: Tis' The Damn Season
Summary: After that eventful night at Tara's apartment, you find yourself pondering on a few things, but your banter with Tara never ceases. There is enough on your plate as it is, so when you bump into a familiar face it catches you completely off guard
Warning(s): Swearing, making out, mentions of drinking & intoxication, r has a case of bad communication, chemistry (like the actual subject 😣), compulsions, & implied anxiety
Notes: I took over a year off to cut you readers some slack, tell a friend to tell a friend - she's baackkk! 🤭 Ik you missed these stubborn little jerks, so did I. Also not this chapter being at like 10k+ words. Even then, there was a bunch more I wanted to add but I figured I'd save it for the next chapter (already plotting) I didn't wanna keep you waiting any longer than I already have
Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

The box of pizza and plate of wings sat completely abandoned, forgotten, on Charlotte’s coffee table as her hands traveled to your neck. You let your own hands drop to her hips, pulling her in. Her lips felt soft, yet foreign. You ignored that thought and continued to kiss her, slipping in your tongue while she maneuvered her way onto your lap.
Everything felt hot, you could feel your face heat up as she ever so slightly played with the hem of your shirt. When you gave her the silent signal, she slipped a hand under your shirt—not too high of course, but enough to feel your hips. You felt goosebumps at her touch, suddenly feeling nervous. You once again pushed any negative thoughts to the back of your mind, continuing to kiss her.
That’s when it clicked. Why you got so nervous all of a sudden, your mind was trying to tell you something, warn you.
You separated from her lips. She looked at you, a confused expression on her face. You weren’t meeting her eye line, feeling rather timid at the moment. “Are you okay?” She asked you. You barely heard her with your heartbeat drumming so loudly in your ears.
“Um…” You cleared your throat, still not meeting her gaze. “Yeah… I just—sorry.” Charlotte’s expression stayed put as you managed to remove yourself from the couch.
“Did I do something?” She asked, moving to also stand up. She looked at you with what you could only describe as confusion and concern. You couldn’t blame her one bit—one second you’re all over each other, the next you’re pulling back like she stung you.
“No—no, no, no,” you shook your head while gesturing with your right hand. “You did nothing wrong. I um,” you finally looked to meet her gaze, “it’s just been awhile, I guess.” You could only hope she didn’t see through your lame excuse, it wasn’t completely untrue.
“Oh,” Charlotte said. “…Oh,” she then repeated when she realized what you meant. “Shit, I didn’t push you did I?”
“I promise you didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve just been in a weird place …for a while,” you shrugged, not expecting to add that last part, your tone getting lower as you spoke those words.
“I get it,” she mustered an understanding tone.
A suffocating silence enveloped the room for a few seconds, causing you to look out the nearby window to be met with pitch darkness.
“It’s actually getting pretty late anyways and I’ve got an early shift in the morning…” You said while slowly getting your jacked that hung from the couch.
“Of course. Call me?”
“Yeah,” you briefly smiled at her while adjusting the collar of your jacket. “Sorry, again, for making things awkward,” you apologized while grabbing the last of your things.
“No, don’t worry about it. Stuff happens,” she waved you off while managing a reassuring tone.
You nodded at her before muttering, “thanks,” and finally leaving the apartment. As soon as you walked out into the crisp night air, you exhaled your own pocket of air you didn’t even realize you were holding in.
That’s when it all came crashing down; the awkwardness, stupidness, and cringyness that came from the situation all because you were scared to let your situationship see your scars.
Nice going.
You repeated words like moron, idiot, and dumbass while you walked to your car—the train of thought never breaking as you drove to your apartment. Manhattan’s late-night traffic didn’t exactly ease your frustration. You were in the middle of cursing out the car in front of you when your phone started to ring.
Still feeling ridiculously stupid, you were going to let it just ring out, but that was before you saw the contact name.
You answered the phone. “Tara?” You immediately asked with furrowed eyebrows. Why on earth is she calling you so late?
“Y/NN,” you heard her slur over the phone. Your grip tightened on the steering wheel, immediately realizing what you were about to be in for. Before you could get another word out, she interrupted you. “Have I ever told you you’re so gorgeous it actually hurts?”
Your eyes widened as heat rushed to your face, your hands nearly slipping off the wheel. The tips of your ears suddenly began to feel very warm while your mouth opened and closed a few times before you could get sound to come out.
“I—uh,” you cleared your throat before continuing. “Where are you right now?”
“Hommee. Where else?” Her answer was followed by hiccups.
“I’m coming over,” you said firmly before hanging up. Being distracted any further by her voice was the last thing you needed right now. You silently hoped nothing drastic was waiting for you at her apartment as you changed your route.
When were you going to stop jinxing things?
—
It had now been a few weeks since the night at Tara’s apartment took place. Not long after you put her to bed, you gave yourself some time to reflect on her words. And ever since that night, you have been repeating them in your head whenever you were with the Carpenter. It seems as though she was able to move on easily, at least, her silence on the topic made it appear that way. On the outside, you gave the impression that you too had moved on from that night, that it had not affected you whatsoever. But on the inside, you were in emotional turmoil. With replaying your memories, that same tightening feeling in your chest that you felt that night reappeared.
There were so many key points of that night to completely crumble over; for starters, the incident with Charlotte. You are beyond embarrassed thanks to your repulsion for emotional intimacy. You knew if she saw your scars questions would ensue, thus putting you in an uncomfortable position to spill your guts out. The last thing you needed was for that to happen, but that alone had you thinking.
You’ve been on over four dates with Charlotte now and you have no idea where you stand with her. She’s just a situation-ship as of right now, and for all you know she could be seeing this as more. But the thought of asking her where you stand with her makes you emotionally grimace and cause your stomach to churn.
If you can’t even talk to her about your relationship status, should you even continue seeing her? This question had you thinking even further. Maybe you rushed into this relationship, maybe it was far too soon. Was nearly a year too soon?
That was the last time you were in a relationship, the last time you allowed yourself any form of emotional intimacy with a partner. But that was the result of three years, three years of building trust and connection. It was going to take a lot more than just a few dates with someone you don’t truly know to recreate that. It was going to take effort.
As for the Tara part of that night, you didn’t even know where to begin. Where could you? From her compliments to her insults, the night was certainly an eventful one. And just to think, you had seen her just hours before and there hadn’t seemed to be any issues.
The coming semester is certainly going to be an interesting one.
—
You and Tara were in your apartment, huffing and groaning could be heard throughout your room. She sat cross legged at the edge of your bed while you were leaned up against the headboard. Papers sprawled all over the bed, pens and pencils scattered—almost imitating what the inside of your mind currently looked like.
“Was the first sheet you gave me—was it nine or seven?!”
You let out a huff, mixed with a long sigh, at Tara’s repeated question. After running a hand down your face, you slid closer beside her to get a better look at her paper. “This is table nine right here,” you emphasized by rapidly tapping your pencil on the spot of the paper you wanted her to focus on.
She rolled her eyes as she mumbled, “Oh my god—” She turned her head to looked at you as she huffed, “Answer my fucking question with a yes or a no; was it a yes—was it a nine or a seven?”
You muttered a few curses under your breath—curses you knew she heard because of your close proximity—before taking your pencil to her paper once again. “Alright, okay so I’m gonna circle this—”
“What the fuck—?!”
“This is—this is nine,” you glanced at her for a moment to make sure she was paying attention. All you were met with was a dumbfounded look.
“But what’s the top??”
“That’s table seven.”
There were a few seconds of her just staring at the paper and you looking between her and the paper until she said something.
“What?” Her voice indifferent.
“So I’m assuming you don’t get it…”
She turned her gaze from her paper to you, hitting you with a hard glare. “No, asshole. I don’t get it.” She then threw her pencil to the side and got up from the bed. Her arm brushes against yours as she does so but you choose not to pay any mind.
“I’m so tired of chemistry,” she all but whined before dramatically plopping back down on your bed face first.
“You’re the one that said you needed help,” you pointed out while curiously flipping through her notebook. “I remember wanting to stick with routine and work on our history project.” Her doodles are cute.
“So helpful,” she sarcastically remarked, muffled; she was still face planted on your mattress, right beside you.
“I try,” you reply in a monotone voice; you were still flipping through her notes as you talked.
Tara rolled over on her back, pushing loose strands of her raven hair away from her face. She exhaled before clearing her throat—which didn’t get your attention, so she tried again …and again, after the third time she just settled for throwing a nearby pillow at your head.
You finally turned to look at her with furrowed eyebrows and a hand to the back of your head. “Um, can I help you?”
“Can we just start on the math now?”
“You couldn’t have asked that without the pillow to my head?” You asked incredulously.
“Do you have this, like, mental illness that prevents you from properly answering ‘yes or no’ questions—”
“Get your other notes out before I change my mind.”
Tara scrambled over to the side of the bed, reaching over to grab her bag that sat beside your bed. She quickly wiped off a giddy smile as she took out her needed papers. You were neatly setting her previous papers to the side as she did so.
“Alright, what do you got for me, Carpenter?” You inquired while she scooted back next to you; you’re both sitting side by side, leaning against your bed’s headboard as you looked at the page of notes she was showing you.
“This is basically everything that's going to be on my exam next week,” her stress regarding her exams was evident from her tone. “Some topics I’m good with, other’s I’m okay with, and a few I’m struggling with.” She turned to look at you, eyes practically burning holes in the side of your head with a pleading look. Pleading for you to help her.
After a moment of silence—of you intently staring at the paper—you hummed to yourself, nodding, as you finally returned Tara’s gaze before speaking. “I have highlighters; I want you to circle the ones you’re okay with in orange, and the one’s you’re struggling with in red,” you told her while reaching into the drawer of your nightstand for the highlighters.
All you got was a brief, “Mhm,” while you blindly thrashed your hand around for the highlighters. When you finally got the right colors, you handed them to her before getting up from your bed which earned you a confused look from the other girl.
“Where are you going?”
“Bathroom. Don’t miss me too much,” you couldn't help but smirk at the girl, leaving before she had the chance to counteract. You weren’t sure if you were smirking because of your own remark, or if it was thought Tara was missing you. It definitely left a warm feeling inside of you.
She doesn’t miss you. She wants less of you, remember? Your head reminded you, causing that familiar feeling of your chest tightening. Your breathing was still a bit hollow from the feeling as you finished up in the bathroom and walked back to your bedroom.
“You finished?” You asked Tara while returning to your previous seat beside her.
“Yes but I have a proposition for you,” Tara responded almost immediately. You stopped your movements, eyeing her with a suspicious look.
“Lay it on me,” you said.
“We can continue doing all this,” she gestured to her notes, “—but instead we can do it in a place with food.”
“I’m gonna need you to elaborate, please.”
“I want to go to the diner nearby, and finish studying there. I’m tired and starving—and you haven’t gone grocery shopping in weeks so I already know there’s not much to find in your fridge.”
“Wait, how do you know the last time I went shopping?”
Tara ignored your question, instead continuing to look at you with those doe eyes of hers as she continued to plead. “Pleeeaaase, Y/N?”
You looked at her, feigning a reluctant look before letting out a sigh. “Alright, let’s go.”
“Thank goodness. My stomach was starting to make noises I’ve never heard before,” she said as she was gathering her papers.
—
“Done!” Tara announced in a cheery tone. You looked up from your book as she slid over the sheet of loose leaf she was just working on. “I put a star next to number three; I was having trouble with that one the most,” she told you before sipping her half drunken milkshake.
You nodded her way as your eyes skimmed her paper. “All these are correct—including number three. Was there a specific reason you didn’t fully understand it?”
“Mainly the order of the steps,” she answered.
“I see. Well you were correct. But if you continue to have trouble with the memorization stuff, flashcards are great memorization tools. Especially colored ones. I can lend you some of you want,” you offered her while giving her back the piece of paper.
“Oh—yeah. Totally,” she chuckled before loudly clearing her throat and practically shoving the straw in her milkshake into her mouth. There was something that washed over her—possibly embarrassment? You couldn’t be too sure. But why would she be embarrassed? Sometimes you wish you could hear her thoughts, just so you could get some insight on what was going through her head during certain moments.
Tara stared down at her straw, subconsciously refusing to pick up her head until she felt less flushed. That was so embarrassing, she kept thinking to herself. ToTalLy! Goodness, Tara, she just offered you some flash cards—not her hand in marriage. Her cheeks got even warmer at the idea.
“You good, Tar?” You just had to ask with that painfully soft voice you get when you’re concerned. Oh, and why did you have to call her Tar? She still remembers when you called her Tar for the first time—you and her were in her bedroom after the incident at the halloween party. She felt her knees physically grow weak as heat rushed to her ears, and now she’s found herself in that same predicament due to you opening your stupid, occasionally sweet, mouth.
“Hm? Great!”
“Um,” you let out a short, awkward, and airy laugh. “Okay, good, yeah.” Your eyes subconsciously took a quick scan around the diner due to Tara’s sudden volume change. “So anyways, from the looks of those problems, you’re gonna nail your exam. Just try not to overthink your answers too much.”
Tara hummed before returning to her milkshake just to realize she was all out. Guess she’s going to have to find another thing to distract her eyes from you.
You, on the other hand, were still confused. Did you say something? Why did she seem so timid all of a sudden? Did the flashcards somehow cross a line? If so, in what way did it? Tara was being a little too silent for your liking, which is really saying something considering how much you value your quiet time.
You were about to do one of the hardest things you have ever done. Attempt small talk.
You cleared your throat, “So. How’s—how are you and uh Chad?” This finally got Tara to look up. She eyed you with a confused expression. “Like, dating and stuff,” you awkwardly added. Your palms were already growing sweaty as your leg began to bounce.
“Me and Chad? Dating?” That’s when she bursted out laughing, handing over her mouth and everything. You suddenly felt like a total dumbass but you weren’t sure as to why. Were they no longer dating? Well obviously, if you had to take anything from her reaction. But you weren’t doing a lot of laughing when you and your ex-girlfriend broke up.
“Oh—I’m sorry, let me catch my breath for a second.” She literally wiped away a tear from how hard she was laughing before speaking up again. “Y/N, Me and Chad are not together.”
“You’re not?”
“Nope. And we never will be, never ever ever.”
“Never ever?”
“Never ever.”
You couldn’t help the sudden wave of relief that washed over you, but you weren’t sure where it came from.
“But I saw you two kissing at a party,” you told her.
“Right …that. Yeah, I try not to think about that night if I’m being honest. It was honestly super embarrassing; I was completely drunk, so drunk to the point where I thought he was… someone else,” her voice grew a little quieter towards the end as she sank a little in her booth.
“Oh.” Was all you said. You didn’t know what else to say. What could you? That night was a misunderstanding, and judging by Tara’s words and reaction to the accusation of her and Chad dating—that relationship is long from happening. Yet another feeling of relief washed over you as you had that thought.
“Yeah,” Tara shrugged. That’s when something clicked in her head …she could use this awkward discussion to her advantage. “Since we’re on the topic of dating, how are you and Charlotte? You haven’t mentioned her in a while.” And good riddance for that, she silently thought to herself.
“I kinda ended that,” you nonchalantly answered before shoving a fry in your mouth.
“Oh that sucks,” she feigned a sympathetic tone. “It seemed like you two were really hitting it off.”
“I guess.”
Tara wanted to leave it that, really she did, but she just couldn’t help but pry. “Something happened?” She asked you.
“Nope. Just fizzled, I guess. situation-ships do that sometimes, not surprising.”
“Wait, ‘situation-ship’? What do you mean by that?” Her question and her tone of interest had you looking at her with raised eyebrows, utterly confused for what felt like the millionth time that night.
“Like, it wasn’t serious. I wouldn't call her my girlfriend, doubt she’d call me hers. Nothing more than a casual relationship,” you responded, for some reason you felt the need to tread lightly.
“Didn’t you go on like five dates? If you go on multiple dates, that means you’re dating. Thus the word dating being an extension to date,” she sternly replied.
“Alright, I understand the responsibility of a verb—why are you getting upset over this?”
“I’m not upset.” The pout she wore as she defensively crossed her arms with slumped shoulders told you otherwise. “I just—I don’t know. I want pie.”
“Okay. I’ll get you pie, but could we please switch to a different subject?”
“Fine,” she mumbled; her gaze may have been directed toward her napkin, but it threatened to meet you every second.
—
“I can’t believe you finally watched it!” You exclaimed to Tara. The both of you were headed back to your apartment; it was dark out as it lightly snowed. You were holding the bag of leftovers, walking on the street-side of the sidewalk as Tara kept her hands firmly placed in her jacket pockets, protecting them from what felt like sub-zero temperature.
“I only avoided it for so long because of you!” She laughed.
“Wow, so you’ve been missing out on one of the greatest shows of all time due to pettiness?”
“Okay, okay—I said it was good, not great.”
“Ah, but you wanna say great. It’s that darn pettiness holding you back, once again,” you said as your smile never broke.
“Did you just say ‘darn’?”
“Yeah, what?”
Tara only laughed as she shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Oh! You should watch the extended cut—if you thought it was funny before, you're gonna love the superfan episodes.”
“I’ll give them a shot,” she truthfully responded. She would say anything to keep you talking like this. One of the things she loved listening to was you geeking out over something you were passionate about. Maybe it was the sound of your voice, maybe it was how you lit up, maybe it was how animated you were while talking.
“Definitely do—” You were cut off by a body colliding into you, causing you to drop the bag of leftovers you were carrying. You muttered a “sorry” before crouching down to pick it up. Tara was about to help until your eyes met with the other person’s.
“Y/N?” The stranger asked.
“Olivia?” You mirrored a confused look.
What was your highschool sweetheart from Woodsborro doing in the middle of Manhattan?
“Oh my gosh—it really is you.” Olivia laughed a bit as the realization set in. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit too.
“Yeah—yeah, and it’s you.” You responded before she came in for a hug. Your movement stuttered for a second before welcoming her hug. She was still as warm as the day you met, her dark hair still holding its shine it did since the last time you saw her.
The hug was understandably awkward, but for once you didn’t mind awkward. “What are you doin’ in New York?” You finally asked her.
“I’m here for this documentary thing I’m working on,” she said.
“That’s right—your documentaries. I’m glad you’re still doing those,” you told her with a genuine tone.
She grew a smile at the words you spoke. “Thanks… that means a lot.”
“Oh—uh, you remember Tara, right?” You turned and briefly pointed at the Carpenter who slightly waved.
“Yeah, I do. Hey,” Olivia said with no bitterness. She took a few steps and held out her hand to Tara, which the other girl took.
“Hey,” Tara nodded with a tight lipped smile.
“I’m surprised you two are out in public together,” Olivia joked. You and Tara both laughed awkwardly at your dynamic being brought up.
“Me too,” you joked back. “So uh—you staying long?” You asked, purposely deflecting to a different topic.
“It’s currently indefinite, I’m crashing at a friend’s place right now.” There was a glint in your eye that Olivia picked up. “Would you like to grab coffee sometime? I’d love to catch up.”
“Yeah, that sounds cool,” you replied; you were trying your best to hide your eagerness.
“Awesome,” she grinned at you. “So, see you around?”
“See you around,” you said. You instantly began to cringe at yourself as she started walking away, but she didn’t leave without giving you one last look. As soon as she left ear shot, you let out a long awaited sigh.
“Geez.” The sound of Tara’s voice caused you to flinch, you completely forgot she was standing right there. “That was hard to watch,” she remarked.
“No one asked,” you said with an eye roll as the two of you began to walk again.
“Someone’s bitter,” she replied. “Hey—” She put the back of her hand on your chest to stop you from walking as she turned to look at you, “Let’s go to my place instead.”
“Why?”
“I wanna finish these leftovers on the roof,” she answered.
“My apartment has a roof,” you told her.
“Not the same.”
“How is it not the same?”
“It's just not. Now come on before our food gets even colder and more destroyed.”
“I guess I’m following you,” you mumbled while trailing behind Tara.
—
You and Tara were sitting on white patio chairs; the same ones you recall from the last few times you’ve been up on the roof. The wind had calmed down since your walkover, snow still lightly falling from the sky. You were eating your fries as Tara was eating what was left of her pie.
“I’m just saying, I could totally take down a bear.”
“Not in a million years, Tara. You, a 5 foot gremlin, versus a big furry thing with claws that could rip you to shreds? Be serious,” you deadpanned.
“First of all, I’m 5 foot 1, second of all, you’re really underestimating me here. If I can take down a sociopath while crippled—”
Tara didn’t talk about Woodsboro a whole lot, really the only time she’s talked about it—with you at least—was the night it happened, the party at Henry’s house, and just now if that even counted. She never seemed to name-drop anyone connected to that night. But you understood. You don’t remember the last time you said Dewey’s name out loud.
“A sociopath? Yes. But last I checked, the said sociopath didn’t have the same physical traits as a bear—therefore, your argument holds no power.” You shoved a few fries in your mouth before silently offering her some, in which she accepted.
You glanced over at her to see her expression—she looked kind of disappointed. You sighed, thinking for a moment, before speaking again. “Okay, I’m not saying you have no chance. You’d still do some damage—and I guess it’s not impossible to beat a bear.” You hated the instant flip in your stomach from seeing the way she lit up, it was subtle but you’re grateful you noticed.
She smiled, almost grinning but she resisted. “That’s what I’m saying!”
“Jump on its back, put it in a headlock,” you added with your own little smile.
“Exactly. You get me,” she absentmindedly said right before taking another bite of her pie.
“What a mad world we live in,” you joked while reaching beside your chair for your milkshake. Tara wasn’t sure what you meant by that, but she just decided to ignore it rather than dwell on it—at least for the moment. She looked over to see you sipping your milkshake and a sly smile appeared on her face as she began to lean closer to you, her elbows resting on her chair’s armrest and expression never faltering.
“You want something, Tar?”
“That’s an awfully tasty looking milkshake you have there,” she commented; she feigned an innocent tone.
You glanced at her from your peripheral vision—she was on your left side—as you played with the straw in your milkshake. “Tara…” You all but sang. She hummed in response, her position still the same. “Would you like my milkshake?” You asked, but your tone hinted that you already knew what her answer was going to be.
“Well, I guess since you’re offering. Who would I be to pass up a perfectly good milkshake?”
“You’re a piece of work,” you remarked with a broad smile that Tara could describe as gleaming.
“You’re the sucker who gave me her milkshake,” she sneered before taking a sip from said milkshake.
“I’d watch my tone if I were you, ‘cause this sucker could easily take it back,” you threatened, lightly laughing along with the other girl.
She scoffed and waved her free hand, “Yeah right. I’d like to see you try.”
“Oh, yeah?” You get up from your chair, eyes never leaving Tara. “I bet I could take it back from you, no sweat.”
A smirk grew on Tara’s face as she also got up from her chair. “Okay, okay, you’re on then. Winner takes all—all being the milkshake.”
“You got yourself a deal.”
“Okay then let’s do this, come on bring it,” Tara’s grin was just too strong to fight off as she lifted up her elbows; one, to use as a shield for her milkshake, and two, to use as her weapon.
You let out a laugh when you saw a defense mechanism. “That’s pathetic,” you quipped.
“Oh, really?” She said with raised eyebrows. She then shoved her elbows towards you, both of you laughing during all this.
“Oh!” You took that as a chance to grab her from behind and wrap your arms around her waist, holding her in place as she attempted to break loose; in her defense, it wasn’t as easy to do so while she was flushed against you, her face heating up from both the action and her ceaseless laughter.
The milkshake dropped to the floor, but neither of you paid any mind. You lifted her up a bit as you spoke, “Not much of a fighter now, huh?” You quipped in a smug tone.
“You are so playing dirty right now!” She said; her shirt rose a little bit and her hands were loosely holding onto your forearms.
“I don’t remember seeing a rule book. Just surrender and I’ll put you down,” you told her as if it was the simplest thing ever; for anyone else, it would have been.
“No way!” At her response you lifted her higher at which she started rapidly patting arm.
“You finally surrender?”
“Never in a bazillion years!” Just as Tara said that, she felt a drop of water on her forehead. She furrowed her eyebrows, glancing up at the night sky. “Shit—I think it’s raining.”
“Yeah right, you just don’t wanna be the one to surrender,” you accused while adjusting your hold on Tara.
“I actually felt—” Before Tara could finish her sentence, a loud grumble could be heard as it started to abruptly pour. “I told you!”
“Shit,” you cursed as you put Tara down.
“We need to get inside.”
“Incredible observation. Thought of being a detective?” You quipped.
“Shut up. It’s freezing, let’s just get inside.” Tara was visibly shivering, wrapping her arms around each other while hugging them close to her torso.
“Okay, come on.”
Tara barely let you finish speaking as she started rushing towards the door. “Wait—! Tara, don't run! You could slip!” You tried to match her speed without breaking your neck in the process. You nearly sighed in relief when she slowed down.
She looked at you with an inpatient look as she waited for you to catch up. You were in the process of taking off your jacket as you caught up to her. “If you’re going to slow me down, at least walk a little faster. I’m getting drenched, and this outfit isn’t exactly water resistant—I’m not water resistant!”
“Geez, alright. Quit complaining.” You caught up to her, trailing behind her as you wrapped your jacket around her. “Stop looking at me funny, just open the door,” you said in response to the lost expression she gave you.
She mumbled something incoherent while reaching for the door’s handle and turning.
As soon as you stepped inside, you let out a long exhale while rubbing your hands together. You looked beside you to see Tara attempting to shake off the water she was drenched in; of course, as a result, she ended up spraying you in the process. “Do you have to do that near me?”
“Where else am I doing it?” She tightened your jacket around her, holding it impossibly close to keep herself warm.
“Whatever, I gotta get home anyway. Picked up a few extra shifts,” you said while double checking your phone’s dryness.
“I thought the cafe gave you off on Saturdays.”
“Uh, yeah. I do. I’m—covering for a coworker, I owe them so,” you trailed off with a shrug; you batted your eyes away from Tara, suddenly finding your drenched jeans very interesting. “Well, I should get going. I’ll see you around?”
“Yeah, see you,” Tara responded; you made your way down the stairs but not before sparing a small smile.
—
It was the next day, 8:52 am on a Saturday. You had woken up around 4:00 since you had to get in around 7:00 to help set up and open at 8:00. Exhaustion was hitting you back and forth, the only thing that was keeping you awake, barely, was your few hours old coffee you had brought from home. Staying out late with Tara was really biting you in the ass, but you were usually tired these days so it wasn’t much of a difference.
Although it was slow since the day had just begun for many, you still found yourself dealing with incompetence so early in the morning. Truly, it was too early for this. If one more person asked about Halloween stuff, Thanksgiving stuff—any other thing they should’ve gotten months prior, you are going to bash your head into a wall.
Why are people asking their barista about stupid out of season decorations? It’s simple, the cafe wasn’t paying you enough; attending college and living off campus wasn’t getting any cheaper and you needed a reliable job. So when you saw that Target was hiring, you applied. That’s how you came to balance two jobs and some of the most insufferable customers you have ever had the displeasure of conversing with.
“I’m sorry miss, but we stopped selling that after October. But if you’d like, I can show you to the candy aisle—”
“No, listen to me, these are what I want,” she snarled while shoving her phone in your face; her phone showed a picture of the Halloween candy she wanted. “I don’t want regular sour patch, I don't want regular m&m’s, I don’t want regular reese’s pieces—I want Hal-lo-ween candy.”
“I know that, but miss—”
“Can you just go check in the back? Please? My son has been driving me insane and I need to at least do this one thing right,” she begged.
You let out a silent sigh, “Of course. I’ll go check in the back to see if we have anything left.”
“See, now that wasn’t so hard,” she said as you made your way to the storage room. You rolled your eyes, choosing to ignore her statement. It really was too early for this.
You went into the storage and sat down on a nearby box; you just stared at the ceiling, zoning out for about a minute before heading back.
“I apologize, we don’t have what you're looking for. Is there anything else I can help with?”
She scoffed at you, clutching her purse as she did so. “No, I do not need your help because clearly it is no use. Your manager will be hearing from me,” she angrily said before strutting away.
“I’m sure he’ll love that,” you remark out loud to yourself. Once she’s out of your eye line, you let out an aggravated sigh. Working in retail is not for the weak.
You walked back to the end of the aisle and began to restock the shelves again, the thing you were previously doing before being interrupted. You picked up one of the boxes of cereal when your hand accidentally knocked something out of your pocket. It fell by your feet, you glanced at it for a moment before looking back at the shelf—but that’s when it registered what it was. You immediately placed down the box then kneeled down to pick up what you dropped.
It was a folded piece of paper. You slightly furrowed your eyebrows as you unfolded it before you traded your confusion for a smile. You looked at the doodles that covered the paper, the doodles drawn by Tara. Her name was even signed at the corner; sometimes she draws her name in different fonts to pass the time. Over the years, you noticed her favorite font to draw is graffiti lettering. You were now standing up, still smiling down at the piece of paper. You always admired the way she wrote—
—Suddenly somebody clears their throat. You jumped, blinking rapidly while attempting to shove the paper back into your pocket. You turn your head around to see your co-worker, Avery, crossing her arms while giving you a look you couldn’t quite read. “Secret admirer?” She remarked with a smirk.
“No, it’s just—it’s nothing. Scraps, really if you could even call it that,” you stammered while trying to nonchalantly lean against the shelves. It wasn’t a total failure, you guess.
“...Right,” she narrowed her eyes at her, clearly not believing your crappy save, but dropped it nevertheless. “Anyways, me, Vicky and a few of the others are gonna go out for a drink tonight; can I count you in?”
You stopped leaning on the shelves as you thought for a moment. You usually weren’t one for going out, but it’s been a long few months. With that thought, everything that’s happened in the past year flashes through your mind. It’s been nothing but motion sickness, and maybe you could go for a drink or two.
“You know what—yeah, I’m in,” you nodded at her before returning to the boxes of cereals that sat in the cart beside you.
“Wait, really? You never wanna come to these things …damn it, I owe Vicky like 20 bucks,” Avery silently moped as she walked away. You laughed a bit at her comment as you continued stocking the shelves.
Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad.
—
When you got home that day, you made sure to take a nap before it was time to leave for the bar. When you got there, you stood at the doorway for a few seconds, honestly not sure what your next move was but luckily you caught Avery’s eye and she waved you over. You walked over to where she and the others sat at—the bar—you sat down on the stool beside Avery who was sat next to Vicky. You were surprised they weren’t sitting on the same stool with how tangled with each other they were.
“You made it!!” Avery shouted in a cheery voice that made you wince as she pumped her fists in the air. “Look, Vicky! Y/N’s here!” Vicky nodded at the girl while trying to subtly ground her by rubbing her lower back.
She looked over at you with an apologetic look. “Sorry, she gets kinda loud and hyper when she’s drunk.”
You chuckled a little, giving her a reassuring shake with your head. “Don’t worry about it, I’m a pretty embarrassing drunk anyways so I couldn’t talk. Probably why I don’t do it much,” you told her while your arms rested on the table.
“Gosh, I can’t wait to see you drunk,” she said while adjusting her arm as Avery was now resting her head on Vicky’s shoulder.
“That’s never gonna happen—just a club soda for me. At most I’ll do some watered down beer, but that’s really it,” you said.
“Wow.”
“I know, I’m a party animal,” you quipped with sarcasm laced in your voice.
“Total rebel,” she added as you both laughed. “So, other than the fact that you’re a total bad boy—how are you liking New York?” She asked with Avery still wrapped around her who had snuggled up closer to her.
“It’s fine. Hasn’t changed much since the last time I lived here.”
“Yeah? Did you live in Manhattan before or someplace else?”
“Brooklyn. I was born there, and lived there until …I didn’t,” you answered with your train of thought trailing off with your answer. So much has changed since you moved. What if you didn’t move? What if you never moved back? What if you lived in Woodsboro first? What if—
“—Did your family move around a lot?” She asked another question out of pure curiosity.
“Uh…” You picked at the wood surface in front of you, suddenly feeling drained and exhausted. “ No. Just one time.”
“Cool, my family moved around a few times. It’s a pretty hard thing to go through, even if it’s just once,” she said in an understanding tone. She looked back to Avery, smiling to herself as she stared admirably at the half-a-sleep girl nuzzled up against her.
You glanced over at the adorable site before asking, “How long have you two been dating?”
“A couple months, but we’ve known each other for ten years,” she responded while pushing back loose strands of hair that covered Avery’s eyes.
“That’s a long time,” was all you could think to say.
“Yeah, she’s literally my other half. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” After letting herself stare at Avery for another moment, Vicky turned her gaze back to you. “How about you—you seeing anyone?”
“Eh.”
“Eh?”
“I was uh, sort of seeing someone? But broke that off recently. Too close for comfort,” you elaborated for her while silently deciding if you should drink tonight.
“Your casual relationship get too intimate?” She raised an eyebrow before you responded with a tiny nod, she probably would have missed it if she blinked in the same moment. “Yeah, I used to be like that before Avery.”
“Guess I just gotta wait for my Avery,” you half-joked, earning a laugh from Vicky.
“I hope you do, she’s definitely a keeper,” she said fondly. She looked at you—your head now resting on your folded arms—and saw the distraught expression you wore, it looked as if you were silently having a debate with yourself.
“Something up?”
You did a double-take at her, lifting up your head before sparing her a meek smile. “Just thinking, you know?”
Vicky nodded before adding on. “You need advice? I’ve always been told I give great advice.” Her voice was kind and held nothing but honesty.
“Sure…” You were hesitant to accept but you were also on the verge of digging yourself into a hole just to avoid decision making. To be fair, you often think about barricading yourself to avoid dealing with your problems—and oftentimes, you have actually done it. “So last night I bumped into my ex,” you reluctantly began, “and we briefly talked, and she mentioned meeting up sometime to catch up.”
“I’m assuming you’re nervous about the catching up part?”
You confirmed with a hum.
“Are you nervous about being the first to reach out, the catching up part overall, or both?”
“Yes.”
She let out a tiny laugh, not unkindly, before telling you that advice she told you about not long ago. “This was all last night, right? I say, wait a couple more days, then reach out if you’re up to it, and then once you get that part out of the way the rest will build itself.”
“You really think so?”
“Promise, I really don’t think you should stress too much on this. And listen, if you’re really not ready to meet up with her yet, I think she’d understand. Either way, it’s your choice,” she told you before sipping her drink.
“That’s… really good advice. Thank you,” you complimented.
“You’re welcome, anytime. I did mention that I give great advice.”
“I said good, not great,” you said in a tone that hinted you were just teasing.
“Yeah, okay whatever.” Vicky playfully rolled her eyes as you smiled at your own taunting.
Maybe this was not as bad as you were making it out to be, maybe everything would be okay. Maybe, just maybe, things were finally starting to look up.
—
Things were awful. You could never have been so wrong in your life. It was one thing after another. First with the text; you had to just hope Olivia didn’t change her number as you looked for her contact—which you had to look for by number since your removed her name and photo right after your breakup out of pure pettiness—and it took you about half an hour to think of the right words to send, and as soon as you sent them you immediately regretted it.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Next was when she actually responded.
Y/N (4:42 pm) Hey, it’s Y/N. Catching up sounds cool, so if the offer still stands I’d love to take you up on it
(XXX) XXX-XXXX (4:56 pm) Hi, yeah offer still stands. I’m actually free tonight if that works? I know that’s short notice so I completely understand if you’re unable to
You were in the middle of revising your notes at the kitchen counter when you heard the ding from the couch. Your head immediately shot up, and as soon as it processed what that ding was—you ran to it, hopping over the back of the couch and grabbing your phone.
You read the message over to yourself exactly seven times before impulsively reacting to her message with a thumbs up. After your response, you got another text from Olivia and the two of you made a decision of when and where to meet.
Oh, how deeply you regretted your impulsiveness as you stared at the same outfit over and over again. That’s what came right after the communication part; what exactly you were going to wear. You felt ridiculous, you’re usually not like this—but that happens to be a reminder of all the different things Olivia brings out in you. Good and bad. It was like you were 17 again.
Eventually you decided on something comfortable, casual, it’s not like you were going someplace fancy. The air in your apartment suddenly grew to be suffocating the closer it got to the time you had to leave. You gathered your belongings; you gathered your wallet, keys, phone, headphones, and lighter, shoving a few of them into your pockets. Just before leaving you stood still for a second.
What could I be missing? There has to be something. There has to be something. Damn it, there has to be something!
Your eyes wandered around your apartment for a good minute before you called it in. You patted yourself down while muttering the names of the items you felt in your pockets before finally leaving. You locked up behind you and let out a long sigh as you ran your hand down your face.
When you got to the bakery, your heart was beating in your ears and you felt your ears warm up when you made eye contact with Olivia from just a few tables away. She waved at you and you waved back as you subtly gulped. On the way towards the table, you silently hoped she didn’t pick up on the urge you had to perish right then and there.
“Hey,” you said. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to hug her or shake her hand, something, so you just stuck with sending a small but simple smile her way.
“Hi,” she responded. She returned your smile as she looked you up and down. “You look good—I mean, you look yeah,” she awkwardly laughed, flustered from her stammering.
You returned a short laugh, feeling a tiny bit of the tension beginning to ease but not entirely, “You look good too,” your smile grew softer as you spoke. You noticed her eyes still wandering. “Didn’t get a good look last time?” You quipped in a teasing tone.
She shook her head as she tried to fight off the bright smile that painted her face. “I see you haven’t changed much,” she said.
“Well, me and change have never mixed well.”
“Oh trust me, I know,” she made her tone less monotone to ease the weight of her words. But that didn’t make you oblivious to their meaning.
You cleared your throat, adjusting your posture while you folded your hands and dropped them to your lap. “So, how’s the documentary going?”
“Just fine,” she said positively. “Still in the early stages, and you know how that can be.” You nodded along to her words. It suddenly became awkwardly quiet.
You picked at your cuticles, pressing harder and harder for that sweet sensation you craved, your gaze everywhere but at Olivia. That tension you felt before started to settle in your chest again, and you didn’t know how to cope. You just wanted out. You regretted agreeing to this. You wish you never bumped into her. You wish you never agreed to dinner with Tara because then this wouldn't be happening.
Of course it goes back to Tara. It always seems to.
“You still do that thing with your fingers?” She asked out of the blue.
“Huh?” You furrowed your eyebrows, looking down at your lap to where your hands rested.
“I don’t have to look to know. We dated for three years, Y/N,” she said.
“Oh.”
“And I can hear you picking at them from under the table.”
You suddenly felt small, slumping in your chair, and continuing to avoid eye contact with the woman who sat across from you. However, Olivia did not return this treatment. She sat up in her chair, placing her own hands on the table before turning them over to expose her palms. “Let me see your hands.”
“What?”
“Show. Me. Your. Hands.”
It didn’t seem like she was asking. There was definitely not a question mark in there. You rolled your eyes, letting out a small sigh that held aggravation. Reluctantly, you complied with her commands. She took your hands in hers and began to examine them, her fingers tracing down and softly rubbing against yours—you forgot how soft her hands were. As soon as her hands made contact with yours, you felt your joints grow weak and your cheeks felt too warm. You don’t remember the last time you held hands with her but it was certainly having an affect on you.
“Have you been using these as a chew toy?” She rhetorically asked, referring to your fingers whilst still examining them.
“Okay, they’re not that bad.”
“Yes. Yes they are,” she said with no hesitation.
She finally stopped looking at your fingers and instead at you. When you saw the worried expression that painted her face, you knew a line of questioning was approaching. “Are you okay?” She inquired in an unbearably gentle voice.
“I’m fine.”
“Which means you’re not fine.”
“Putting words into my mouth, as always,” you said in a low tone as you pulled your hands away from her.
“You really want to go there?” She let out a short exasperated laugh with her question, raising her eyebrows as she spoke.
“When I say I’m fine—I’m fine,” you said while leaning in and emphasizing your words by pressing on the table with your index finger; you leaned back against your chair when you finished speaking.
“Oh my God. You are literally so unbelievable—do you even hear yourself?” She looked at you with pure disbelief which only confused you further.
“What are you even talking about? All I said is that when I say I’m fine, I mean those words. How am I wrong here? I genuinely don’t understand,” you expressed in both frustration and genuine confusion.
“And what I am trying to say is you’re still the exact same person I was arguing with right before we broke up.”
“What?”
“You never want to talk! Listen, baby, I get you’re grieving—but you can’t just shut me out like this. It’s apparent that you need help! You don’t have to rush into it, but eventually—”
“Whether I talk or not is my choice! And I’m not seeing some stupid grief counselor, okay? Just because I don’t wanna talk to you about certain things, doesn’t mean I’m shutting you out—and I don’t need help! I’m fine. I’m just—damn it, I’m just processing. Can’t you let me do that at least?”
“You have been ‘processing’ for months! It’s time to—”
“Time to what? Move one?”
“That’s not what I was going to say!”
“But you’re thinking it. You’re thinking it just like everyone else is; my mom, my brothers, everyone at school—just leave me alone, all right!”
“Y/N, nobody is—”
“No! Everyone is thinking! Just stop, okay! I don’t need your bullshit sweet nothings, I don’t need some therapist, I don't need to talk about it—I’m fine!”
You and her could not even go five minutes without your conversation, or lack of, forming into an argument. And it was your fault. You were the problem. You couldn’t answer a simple question. Maybe you were hiding behind the fact that you didn’t know how to answer that question, or that you're trying to hide the answer from others. Either way, you always find yourself forming emotional barricades around you, no one in and no one out.
“Hey, come back,” Olivia’s voice rang. You were pulled from your thoughts, blinking rapidly as if it would wipe away the memories you tried so hard to erase. She leaned in, her irritated expression replaced with a comforting one. “I know how mean that voice in your head can be, I know what it does to you—but I just want you to be okay.”
You met her gaze, your expression equivalent to the look of a lost puppy. “Thank you, Olivia,” you simply said. It was not much, but it still weighed in emotion.
The rest of the night was less intense. She asked about Blackmore and how it’s going, which inevitably opened the door to her questioning you about seeing you with Tara the other night, and you found out more about her documentary. The night was long and tiring, but as much as you hate to admit it, you’re glad you agreed to catch up with Olivia. And you would be a bold faced liar if you said you didn’t miss her. The wound is still arguably fresh, but it’s beginning to heal.
You walked into the apartment, looking forward to changing into a pair of pajamas and binge watching some TV on the couch until you passed out. You have been studying non-stop for exams for the past four weeks, so why not give yourself a treat? Plus, this upcoming school week, you will officially be exactly one week from exams so you will be locked in. What does that mean? You do what you usually do but multiply that by a million, anyone who has known you long enough knows they’re going to hear less and less from you the closer you get to exams. It’s as if you completely shut down from the outside—actually, that’s exactly what happens.
As you walked inside, you yawned and rubbed your tired eyes. But as they begin to focus again, you notice a few blobs sitting in your living room. When your eyes are fully focused, that’s when you see them.
“Are you shitting me,” you expressed in a monotone voice while turning the locks on the door before throwing your keys to the side.
“No—no whining!” Anika immediately said. “You knew they were coming over.”
“I thought you canceled,” you said.
“Uncanceled.”
“What a miracle,” you remarked as you took off your jacket.
“How come whenever I have people over you have a problem with it as if this isn't a shared apartment?”
“Y/N being an inconsiderate jackass? What a revolation,” Tara pitched in with a smirk. You looked over to deadpan at her and she was already staring back at you.
“Says the woman who still owes me a milkshake,” you wiggled a finger at her. You both smiled at each other before you turned back around to kick off your shoes. “You know what, Nik, it’s fine. I’m just kind of grumpy right now.”
“It’s okay, I’m sorry for not giving you an update,” she said, matching your own apoplectic tone. “You wanna join us? We were gonna play some Uno then watch a movie.”
“Uh, I don’t know—”
“Yeah, probably 'cause you’re gonna get all embarrassed when I wipe the floor with your ass in Uno,” the younger Carpenter knowingly instigated.
“Oh, excuse me? I’ll have you know I’m the reigning champ in my family—don’t start something you can’t finish, princess,” you instigated back.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Alright,” your gaze stayed on Tara for a moment before switching back to Anika, “I’ll join you.”
—
“Tara is totally looking at my cards!” Chad shouted while shoving his cards to his chest like an elderly woman clutching her pearls.
“I am not! You’re the one who keeps leaning on my side!” Tara whined back with just as much passion, if not more.
“Okay—no one looks at anyone's cards!” Anika cut in. “Alright, babe, it’s your turn.”
Mindy wore a devious smirk, slowly picking a card from her deck for dramatic effect.
“Boom, suck on that!” Everyone leaned in to look at the plus four Mindy slammed down on the pile of cards. Chad instantly groaned, immediately feeling a sense of regret for wasting his last plus four. He sulked while taking four more cards.
Now it was your turn. Tara was right after you, you had the chance to make her life a living hell. All you had to do was place the three plus four from your deck and you would double Tara’s deck in size and be one more card away from Uno.
You made a decision.
“Plus four,” you gloated regarding the single plus four you placed down.
“Damn it!” Tara made sure to glare at you while she picked up her four cards. “Just wait, you’ll see. I’m going to make my comeback.”
“Whatever you say,” you said in a doubtful tone. As Tara silently cursed to herself while flipping through her deck in frustration, you couldn’t help but stare fondly at the girl. She always had a competitiveness to her that you couldn’t help but respect. It was kind of cute.
After another seven minutes, it came down to just two people; you and Tara. You sat from across each other, debating your next play while one taunted the other.
“You know you’re going down, right?”
Tara laughed at your words. “You have at least ten cards, I just have two more turns and I’ll be following through with wiping the floor with your ass.”
“Oh, yeah?” You said, unintentionally with a come hither voice. You leaned in, your voice lowering but the tone still the same as you spoke to her. “You keep that energy, Carpenter.”
Tara's face suddenly grew warm, her stomach enveloping with butterflies as your voice crashed against her ears. You leaned back against the couch, looking at your own cards as it was Tara’s turn now.
Shit, you were in her head now. You totally did that on purpose, you had to. And what a dick you were for that, you knew what you were doing—again, you had to be aware of your actions. You must know the stupid feeling you give her, the way her stomach flips, how her legs turn to jello when you call for her. No. Focus. Come on, Tara. Lock in. Wipe the floor.
She cleared her throat, blinking down at her cards while processing them. It took a moment for it to click before she tapped back into her competitiveness and slammed down a card. “Uno! Plus four—suck on that!” Now she had just one card remaining in her hand, just one more turn and she would be victorious.
You smiled at her, your head tilted a bit as your eyes lit at the sign of her celebrating. She calmed herself down, feigning a calm demeanor. “Alright, it's your turn.”
You sighed. Well it was fun while it lasted, you enjoyed playing with Tara. It was entertaining. It’s nice playing with someone who can handle your competitiveness. “Uno, uno out,” you said while putting down your entire deck. You sat in your spot, looking at Tara with a shit-eating smirk with your hands folded together as Tara sat there dumbfounded.
“That’s—what, no, wait,” she furrowed her eyebrows as she rummaged through the cards you just placed. They were all green sevens. All of them. “How’d you—”
“Chin up, honey,” you teased, winking at her
“Oh you’re a real piece of work.” She shot up from her seat as she rushed over to a nearby closet. Your eyes followed her movements as you raised your eyebrows at her sudden actions.
“You two finally finished?” Mindy asked but was ignored by the other girl. “What are you doing with that—can you like stop ignoring me?” Tara returned with a box of Jenga in her hand and the others trailing behind her.
“I’m too tired to play Jenga,” Chad said.
“Good thing you’re not.” She now looked to address you, “You, me, Jenga—now.”
“Yes, ma’am,” was all you said as she immediately began setting everything up.
“What’s this about?” Anika asked you.
“Oh, I beat her ass in Uno—graciously so—and she’s being petty about it,” you shrugged.
“I am not being petty, I am unsatisfied. Seriously—how do you win with all green sevens?! Ugh, never mind that. We’re playing this and I’m going to hold out on my promise.”
“Of wiping the floor with my ass?”
“Exactly.”
“Woman of her word,” you say while getting comfortable in your spot.
Mindy, Anika, and Chad watched from the sidelines as you and Tara went at it in Jenga. There were many, many close calls, and few times where the other nearly flipped a table. You both tried to get into the other’s head while the other was sliding out their pieces, but so far no mistakes. But the tower was growing wobbly, it was getting late, and it was only a matter of time before that tower fell over. Now, it was simply a matter of who would make it come to that.
It was Tara’s turn, and there were not many places left for her to take from so she was forced to resort to an incredibly risky spot. You took this as another opportunity to mess with her. “Hey, Tar?”
“Kind of busy here,” she said—the block just halfway out.
“Will you marry me?” You casually inquired.
Tara’s eyes widened and her eyebrows jumped in surprise. Her hand immediately faltered, dropping her piece as the tower came crashing down. Her mouth opened and closed, her stare averting back and forth from you and the fallen tower; she didn't even know where to begin.
The others just remained on the sidelines, completely entertained by what was unfolding in front of them.
“Is that… a no?” Your eyes were almost pleading as you continued to taunt the girl, your millionth smirk that night threatened to show itself.
“I’m going to kill you,” Tara responded as she squeezed her eyes shut, still processing what just happened.
“Not before the honeymoon,” you quipped. Chad, Mindy, and Anika could now be heard laughing, no longer able to hold it in.
“You can’t just—” She shut her mouth out of frustration, settling for narrowing her eyes at you.
“I can’t just what, sweetie? Come on, use your words.” Oh, this was fun.
Suddenly you got a pillow to the face which only made it funnier, to you at least. “You owe me a rematch, cheater!”
“Excuse me, I didn’t cheat. You messed up on your own devices,” you said while patting down the pillow and putting it to the side.
“You know what you did,” she said with bitterness laced in her voice.
“I don’t, so how about you tell me? Tell me how exactly my words affected you; you know, so I can prevent myself from accidentally cheating next time.” You never broke eye contact with Tara; you enjoyed how much she was squirming thanks to you, maybe you enjoyed it a little too much.
“Next time?”
“You wanna rematch, don’t you?”
“Yeah. I do.” This whole interaction had Tara blushing; she needed to leave, like right now. “How about I get back to you in 5-7 business days? Sounds good? Cool. Well, it’s late and Chad’s my ride so we should probably head home, right Chad?” Her words were rushed which made you raise an eyebrow at the sudden change.
“Hm? Oh sure, I’ll just get my keys and stuff and we can go,” Chad said before going to get his belongings.
“So, I’ll see you around—buddy,” she awkwardly punched your arm in a playful manner.
“Um, yeah, buddy. See you around,” you chuckled at her awkwardness.
“I’m still expecting an answer though!” You called out as she made her way to the front door.
“5-7 business days!” She repeated back to you.
“I’m holding you to that!”
-----------
A/N: well that escalated, gosh, keep it in your pants R! 😦
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