BOTTOMS (2023) Scr. Emma Seligman, Rachel Sennott

Me looking for fan fictions but instead I get flashed by sex bot ads under the same tag

jenna ortega works

series

(The Party & The After Party (Jenna Ortega x G!P Reader) Masterlist)

(Get Me (Jenna Ortega x G!P Reader) Masterlist)

Shirt (Jenna Ortega x G!P Reader) Masterlist

oneshots

jenna ortega x reader “HOME” (18+)

jenna ortega x reader “TRUTH HURTS” TRUTH HURTS 2

jenna ortega x reader "FIRST PLACE"

jenna ortega x gp!reader “SHE”

a cold reunion

Summary: Astrid hasn't visited her mother's old house in a while. She wonders if someone new has moved in by now. Maybe it'll be a "ghost," like her mother claims used to live there. Ha. She would be so lucky.

Word Count: 3.3k Warnings: mentions of death, Tim Burton style tones Pairing: Astrid Deetz x Reader A/N: I know absolutely nothing about this movie, only the original, so I'm just gonna have some fun with it

Being a Deetz was one of the most irritating parts of life. At least, it was in Astrid’s opinion. Even without her own uncommon interests, she was held to the standards of her mother. Because her mother was weird, everyone assumed she was too. Which she was, but it wasn’t fair she couldn’t make that statement for herself.

She used to have a friend. You had been new to town and hadn’t known anything about her mother. It led to a wonderful friendship. Her favourite classes were the ones you had together, and eventually, she invited you over outside of school. Everyone thought you were crazy to agree, but you never faltered.

Even her mother and grandmother liked you, saying you were a “good kid.” Astrid knew better, you were trouble. Always in detention or being scolded by teachers in the hallways. You were anything but a good kid when it came to following the rules. But she wouldn’t deny, you definitely sweet talked your way into her mother’s and grandmother’s good graces.

You had done the same to her, pulling her in until she didn’t want to leave. The first kiss had been under the bleachers at a football game; disgustingly cliche. You had tasted of the cigarettes you stole from your mom. A disgusting taste, but it was good on you.

But as soon as she really started to like you - a little more than like, she would admit - you disappeared. You hadn’t been at school that morning, and when she went to your mom’s work, she had said she didn’t know where you were. Said it was no surprise you left; you could do better than this town.

That had been two years ago. Your mom had left town not long after your disappearance. Everyone assumed she had done something to you; a suspicion that came from the simple fact that your mom was, as the town called it, “trailer trash.” She was a nice person, Astrid had always liked her. She didn’t blame the woman for leaving.

Even Astrid had left for college once school was over. What else was she going to do, stay put? No, she wanted to get started somewhere else. Somewhere she wouldn’t be saddled with the name Deetz like it was some kind of curse. She loved her mother more than she would ever care to admit. But she wanted to do something for herself.

It was winter break before she came back home.

“Leaving already?” Her mother called from the porch when she grabbed her bike and started walking it to the street. “You haven’t even been here for three hours.”

“I’m going to check on the house,” Astrid said with a shrug. “I heard the owners moved out.”

“They did, thank god,” her grandmother said. “They did that house no justice.”

Bold coming from you, Astrid thought but kept her mouth shut.

“Don’t stay out too late,” her mother said.

“Lydia dear, when you were her age, you were almost marrying a ghost,” her grandmother said. “Consider it karma.”

“Mom,” her mother sighed.

Astrid had already hopped on her bike and started down the street. The path to the old house was well-worn; everyone knew it. The old owners had tried their best to convince everyone the house wasn’t haunted, but most of the town didn’t believe it. At least none of the school kids. They had jumped at the opportunity to have a haunted house in town whether it was real or not.

You had always liked that old house. No one had ever fully convinced you that ghosts had lived there, but you liked the thrill of it. I don’t think they’re real, but what if? You had asked one night after sneaking in through her window. We should check it out one day. After you disappeared, she had avoided the house like the plague.

But Astrid knew the path by heart. Snow had been plowed from the streets, and the dutiful citizens had shoveled the bridge. When she approached said bridge, she slowed until she could get off the bike, walking it across instead of riding. Her mother had made it clear that under no circumstances was she to ride or drive over the bridge. It was a silly rule; she followed it anyway.

The house was more run down than usual. It shouldn’t have upset her as much as it did. After all, it wasn’t like she had really ever lived in the house anyway. But it was still part of everything she had known growing up. To see it practically falling apart was… well, it was nothing short of devastating.

Without taking her eyes off of the house, she propped her bike up by its kickstand and slowly made her way to the front door. Step by step, each stair creaked under her weight. The house was a little creepy. Maybe it would be best if she just didn’t go in. After all, the door was practically falling off the hinge, if she actually knocked it would-

-the door swung inwards.

And you were standing there in the doorway with your eyes wide. You looked like you had seen a ghost.

“What are you doing here?” Astrid asked quietly.

You exhaled harshly, shoulders sagging with the movement.

“Want some tea?”

—---

Astrid looked as beautiful as the day you had left. Well, no, you hadn’t exactly left but… no, that was something you would face later. For the moment, you were going to enjoy seeing her again. It hadn’t been long, but she had grown into her own. Beautiful as always, too.

And way too quiet for your liking.

“Chamomile okay?” You asked when the kettle was near screaming.

She nodded once, not removing her eyes from you. It was unsettling; you had used to love it. Astrid wasn’t like normal girls, and not in the “too cool for school” kind of way. It was more of an “I’ll be me whether anyone likes it or not” kind of way. If she wanted to be weird and goth then she would and no one could stop her!

But you didn’t like how she was looking at you.

You placed the teabag in the mug and slid it in front of her. The kettle was only seconds away from screaming when you pulled it off the stove. No need to burst anyone’s eardrums. There was no point in being careful with the scalding water as you poured it into her mug.

“You disappeared,” Astrid said while you were mid-pour.

“About that,” you hummed.

“Does your mom know?” She continued. “That you’re right back where you started?”

Your mom. Momma. She had been left all alone after… how had she fared? Were the townspeople nice to her? They had better be, or you would personally bring hell to every single one of them.

“What does she think happened to me?” You asked as you turned around and placed the kettle back on the stove. You didn’t turn back around.

“What everyone else thinks,” Astrid said, “that you ran off.”

“Was she okay?”

“Honestly?” She asked. “She said she was glad you got out of this little town. Said you were too good for it anyway.”

Well that… that almost hurt worse than knowing she never knew the truth. Your momma hadn’t been perfect, but she had done the best with what she had. Time and time again, she had told you in her drunken stupor that you were destined for great things. You had always taken it to heart.

You need to tell her.

“Hey, Astrid?” You asked with a weak voice.

She hummed for you to continue.

“Remember in school when we would say we didn’t believe in ghosts?”

“Yeah, why?”

With a sigh, you turned to look over your shoulder. Astrid’s head was tilted slightly in that way you always found cute. It didn’t click just yet. She just kept looking at you, waiting for you to continue. You raised your brows at her. She was almost there, you could tell by the slight crinkle in her nose, and- ah, there it was.

“You’re joking,” she said.

You gave her your best tight-lipped “white person” smile but otherwise didn’t answer.

“You saw one?” She asked.

Oh. Oh, no, she didn’t get it.

“Well, yes,” you said, turning your full body so you could lean back against the stove and look at her, “but that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are-” there it is “-oh.”

There was something in her eyes when realisation dawned. Her eyes, while a gorgeous dark brown, were usually so bright. So happy, even when she was trying to act like she didn’t care about the world around her. But this was different. Any brightness dimmed to practically nothing.

“How?” She asked.

You shrugged and looked away. “The football team pushed me off the bridge.”

It wasn’t a fond memory, that was for sure. The icy layer covering the river had been rather sharp. But even that hadn’t compared to the pain of inhaling freezing water deep into your lungs. From what you could remember, it was slow. A memory you didn’t enjoy having, but maybe one day it would go away.

“You were murdered?” Astrid asked incredulously; horrifically.

“I mean listen, it’s not too bad,” you attempted to play it off. “It got me out of taking winter finals, which we both know I would’ve failed.”

“But it’s-”

“-I know, Astrid,” you interrupted.

You liked Astrid. You would even go so far as to say you loved her, mostly probably. Were you young? Sure. A little stupid and naive? Absolutely. High school sweethearts? You would say so, yeah. But she instigated a little too much, and she wanted to know everything, but this just wasn’t really something you wanted to indulge her in. Not yet, anyway.

Astrid was quiet for a moment. The gears were turning in her head, you could practically smell the smoke coming off them. What was she thinking, you wondered. Was she dwelling on the fact that you had died, cold and slow and alone? You certainly hoped not, it wouldn’t change anything. You were dead, you were now a ghost, and long-distance relationships weren’t that hard any more thanks to technology, so you could both still make it work!

If she wanted, of course.

“I thought my mom said her ghosts were stuck in the house for, like, a century or something,” she said instead.

You laughed. That was much easier to answer. “I told their caseworker I’d take their place. You know, let them rest in peace, or whatever,” you waved your hands vaguely.

“Caseworker?”

“It’s a long story.”

“So you’re why the previous owners left?” She asked.

“Guilty as charged.” You wiggled your fingers in her direction and smiled.

For the first time all day, she smiled back. God, you missed her smile.

“If you really are a ghost,” she said with a tilt of her head, “how can you pick things up?”

“Ooh, we’re getting to the fun questions,” you said with a smile.

The look on Astrid’s face was perfect. Curious, distrusting. The best mix of emotions; you loved when she was uncertain. It was a more genuine look for her, instead of trying to act like she knew everything and always knew what to expect. Always made her look super cute, honestly.

You walked over to where she was sitting at the run-down table. She turned to keep facing you until you were standing directly in front of her. It was going to be a risk, but one you were very much willing to take. Worst case, you stay stuck in the stupid house forever. No different from your current predicament.

“Took me a few months to really get the hang of it,” you said. Her eyes sparkled again. “You just focus on what you want to touch,” she blushed, “and voila.”

Her blush vanished when you picked up the mug beside her. What you really wanted to do was touch her. Gods, you wanted to know if you could still feel her warmth, the softness of her skin. But it wasn’t time. No, she was probably still worried about the fact that you had… well, you know. Died.

“It took you months to figure out how to do that?” She asked with a cheeky smile.

“Shut up,” you huffed, placing the mug back on the table. “It wasn’t like I had much to work with.”

“Why didn’t you ask my mom’s old friends how to do it?” Astrid asked before leaning back against the table. “I’m sure they would’ve helped you.”

“Never actually had the pleasure of meeting them,” you said with a shrug. “I only got to meet the other guy.”

“The other guy?” She asked, looking away in thought for a moment before looking back at you. “Oh, you mean Beetlegeu-”

-you slapped your hand over her mouth before she could continue.

“Don’t say it,” you whispered.

She nodded once, and you pulled your hand away.

“Was he really that awful?” She asked, matching your tone.

“He was that annoying,” you grumbled. “God, I swore the guy would never shut up.”

Astrid did her little crooked smile and laugh. The one that you would always try your best to force out of her during class to get her in trouble. Wait, that sounded bad. You didn’t want her to get in trouble, you just would have enjoyed her presence in detention. With you.

“So what else did you take two years to learn?” Astrid asked. She leaned forward until she was so close you could smell her shampoo. “Anything exciting?”

Wait. Wait, this could be your chance. You might be able to do something about it, this could be your shot. Two years in limbo, sitting in a run down house that did nothing but remind you of Astrid with everything you saw. It was her family’s house. You couldn’t leave her even if you had wanted to.

“Well,” you said, “there is something I’ve been wanting to test out.” You looked up to meet her eyes. “May I?”

“Let’s see what you got, ghosty,” she said.

You nodded to yourself and focused. Focused on her body, more specifically her face. Her stunning, beautiful, gorgeous, smiling face. Day after day, you had been thinking of her, and you had hoped time and time again that somehow she would come back to the house.

One deep inhale, hold your breath. Your hands were shaking so badly you would have dropped everything had you been holding something in the first place. And yet, Astrid didn’t budge when you lifted your hands and placed them on either side of her face. Exhale.

Her body was absent of warmth. Astrid had never been an exceptionally warm individual to begin with but this was… different. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell her that you couldn’t feel her. Sure, you could touch things, but you couldn’t feel any of it. It wasn’t something you could describe, except calling it surreal.

“May I?” You asked again.

You could feel her breath on your lips even as she nodded. It was all you needed to pull her into a kiss. There was still no warmth, but there was a… a comfort in it. In feeling her lips against yours again after so long. To feel her breath mix with yours, replacing everything you didn’t need but you so desperately craved.

Her hands attempted to settle on your hips but fell straight through. In turn, you felt her shoulders sag as she placed her hands on your knees instead. That was… not a nice feeling. Maybe you could learn to focus enough to let her feel you back. That was possible, right? Surely it was.

You pulled away slowly. If you could have stayed kissing her for the rest of your century in that hellhole, you would have. But unfortunately, Astrid still had to breathe, and you had to give her the space to do it. Earlier you had questioned if you had really loved her or if it was a puppy love?

Oh no. It was the real deal.

“You can’t leave at all?” Astrid asked. “Not even for an hour or so?”

“You mean the haunted house isn’t romantic?” You teased.

“What do you even do in here all day every day?” She asked.

Once again, she reached out to touch you. Somewhere, anyway. You looked down at where she was attempting to hold your hand. Maybe if you could focus really hard, it would work. As far as you knew, you couldn’t materialise. At least, you didn’t think you could. But if you really concentrated.

Her fingers slipped between yours and, for the first time in two years, you felt her squeeze your hand. Physical touch. Real physical touch.

“I, ah,” you stammered, looking down at where she was still holding your hand. “It’s in my contract to scare people.”

“Contract?” She asked. Your arm moved as she pulled you closer. Okay, maybe physical touch was a bit unfamiliar to you after so long, you would need to get used to it again.

“My caseworker says I have a quota to meet,” you said, finally looking back up to meet her eyes. “So many people each quarter, you know?”

“So you need people to scare?” She asked. “On a regular basis.”

There was a sparkle in her eye. Something dangerous; scandalous.

“You have something in mind?” You asked with a tilt of your head.

Her smile was vicious. And attractive.

—---

The house looked beautiful in the daylight. The paint was fresh, the inside was cosy, and when nighttime fell? Rumour had it the ghosts came out to play. That was why most people rented out the house; their own private haunting for a night. The listing said if you could survive the night, the stay was free. So far, no one had lasted long enough to even give it a good shot.

And as you stood at the end of the bed watching the young couple sprint down the stairs screaming, you knew they wouldn’t be the winners either.

You walked over to the window and watched as they threw their singular bag into their car and peeled out of the dirt driveway. It hadn’t even been any fun, they hadn’t given you any time to actually scare them. Hell, all you had done was stand at the bed! You hadn’t made any faces, hadn’t pulled any jumpscares, you had simply stood there.

Were you really that scary?

“Gone already?” Astrid asked in a sleepy voice as she walked to stand beside you at the window.

“Didn’t even stay long enough for me to have any fun,” you pouted.

“Well, you’ve hit your quota,” she said. She grabbed your arm and pulled it over her shoulder before tucking closer to your body. After a few months, you were finally starting to feel a bit of warmth from her.

At least, you thought you did.

“Your mom is coming by in the morning?” You asked.

She hummed her confirmation.

“Maybe I can try to scare her, then,” you said.

Astrid pulled you away from the window and started walking you toward your shared bedroom. Not that you really needed the sleep, but it was nice to be able to lay next to her. It was exhausting to keep a more physical form, but for her? You would do it all day every day.

“Good luck scaring her,” Astrid said as she pulled you onto the bed. “She practically grew up with ghosts.”

“I’ll scare your grandmother then,” you said softly, but she didn’t move.

Astrid was already asleep in your arms, just like you had always imagined. Maybe being dead really wasn’t as awful as everyone had always made it seem. After all, it got you your dream girl.

Missed Connection 6

Summary: A flight delay causes a chance meeting between R and Jenna Ortega

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: 18+ NSFW! smut, language

A/N: I'm aware the Barbie timeline doesn't match up but tbh it was so funny I couldn't not do it. I stayed up way too late writing and editing this so there are 100% going to be mistakes here. Heed the warnings above...happy Pride month you filthy animals <3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

A stack of papers is slapped on the desk in front of you, the force of it fluttering your hair. Jenna’s hand is on your lap, gripping your fingers tight.

Sam’s office is larger than you thought it’d be, more extravagant. Proof of her success hangs on the walls, degrees, photos of her clients, a picture of her with Obama. It smells like leather and jasmine, and it screams prosperity right in your face.

Clearly, Sam is excellent at her job. Which is probably why she’s fuming right now. 

“Have you two seen this?” She asks, gesturing at the stack of papers.

You wince, glance down at the top page. You fight with all your might not to snicker. Jenna’s fans were clever and bloodthirsty. You succeed in not laughing, but as soon as Jenna sees the photograph, she snorts, quickly covering her mouth, her eyes wide and apologetic.

The pages are screenshots of memes from Twitter and Instagram. The top one is a photo mimicking the new Barbie movie posters of her and Ken’s mugshots. The problem? The faces have been replaced. With yours and Jenna’s.

Jenna’s photo is brilliant, possibly one you took from the Met Gala. She’s smiling from ear to ear, looking proud of herself. Above the photo is her name, and below it, in the photoshopped mugshot board, the text says ‘UNDERAGE DRINKING’.

Yours is your actual mugshot, and you’re half amused, half furious that someone dug it up. Your name is above the photo, and on your mugshot board it says ‘ASSAULT’. It’s amusing, but the funniest part is the tweet attached to it. 

“Y/N could assault me any day, no one’s blaming you Jenna babe!” 

When the screenshot was taken, there were over 300k responses to it. You’re sure that number has tripled now.

Jenna reaches over, her eyes bright with curiosity, and flips to the next page. It’s filled with replies, most of them agreeing with the original tweet. When you see the one at the bottom of the page, you lose your battle to remain collected and join Jenna in her giggling.

“Jenna better be careful. Y/N has an assault charge and she can fuck it up, I can tell. If I were her I’d be extra protective of my pus-“

You don’t get to finish reading it because Sam slaps her hand over the page, glowering at you. 

“Oh come on, Sam,” Jenna says between laughs, “they’re so funny!”

Sam’s expression doesn’t change, “They’re vulgar, and it’s hurting your image.”

You glance at Jenna, your laughter quickly quelled by Sam’s irritation. She huffs and slouches back in her chair, her hand pulling away from yours to shrug.

“Change my image then.”

Sam presses her fingers over the bridge of her nose, an action you’ve deemed to be her signature move when she’s speaking to Jenna. 

“The goal was to avoid the child star gone wild trope, J. You’re killing me.”

“Sam, please,” Jenna scoffs, dropping her arm to rest behind your shoulders, “it’s not like I’ve gone full Miley. Maybe it’s time the world realized I’m an adult now.”

Jenna’s arm over your shoulder and her fingers softly grazing your back through your shirt have you entirely distracted. It’s been a week since you confessed your crimes to her, and you’ve been practically inseparable since. She worked with Sam, and they chose to post a photo of the two of you to her Instagram, casually announcing your relationship. 

Since then, the internet and the media have exploded. It didn’t take long for the tabloids to publish your rap sheet, but luckily Sam had a plan for that. The day your misdeeds were printed, a ‘mysterious’ leak was also posted about why you had an assault charge. The large media groups tried everything they could to scold Jenna for dating you, but her fans went absolutely feral for you. 

So feral, Sam was worried it was getting out of hand. Hence the meeting in her office. 

“J, your mother is going to actually murder me. And you can kiss any teen movies goodbye,” Sam says, pulling the papers back toward her as she notices you eyeing them again.

Jenna nods, “That’s fine with me. I don’t want to play sixteen-year-olds anymore. And you don’t work for my mom, you work for me. I’m sure she’ll love Y/N when she meets her.”

You blink hard, gulping at the thought of being introduced to Jenna’s family. Luckily she’s too focused on Sam to notice your nervousness.

Sam sighs, “You’re right, I work for you. So I’m telling you, we need to do something to get them off this,” she gestures at the pictures, “and on to the next thing.”

“What do you have in mind?” Jenna asks, leaning forward with interest.

Sam scratches her chin, “Not sure yet. But I’ll call as soon as we come up with something. Until then, please, for the love of god, keep it PG.”

You can tell Jenna wants to fight her on that point, so you rest your hand on her knee, coaxing her down. She glances at your hand, biting her lip. Looks over at you and nods at Sam.

“Fine, PG. Got it.”

Sam eyes you warily, “And you?”

You frown, taken aback, “What about me?”

“PG, understand? No funny business, no brawls-“

“Sam!” Jenna exclaims, but you smile and squeeze her leg gently.

“I understand. These hands will remain inside the car at all times.” You say, lifting your hands to show Sam your palms.

She narrows her eyes at you. You can’t tell if she’s fighting a smile or if she wants to strangle you. Probably a bit of both, you figure.

“Alright, go on then,” Sam flips her hands at you, shooing you both out of her office.

The minute you’re in your car, Jenna is pulling you over the center console, her lips practically fused to yours. The last week consisted of several dates, a lot of kissing, and some heavy petting, but you hadn’t had sex yet. 

You both agreed to take things slow, especially after the background check mishap. But it was becoming exceedingly difficult, especially when every touch caused both of you to jump into overdrive. 

You pull back, and Jenna whimpers, her arms still tight around your neck. It takes everything in you not to lean back in, not to crawl into the passenger seat and strip her down, paparazzi be damned. But you promised Sam, and you’ve already done enough to tarnish Jenna’s good girl reputation.

You chuckle, press a quick kiss to her pouting lips, “We promised to keep it PG.”

She pouts harder, allowing you to pull yourself a little further out of her grasp, “What if I had my fingers crossed?”

Her sulking makes you really laugh, shaking your body with giddiness, “I would not be able to sleep at night if I knew your mother might see pictures of us having sex in the car on the streets of Hollywood, Jenna.”

Her expression lights up, her fingers trailing down your arm igniting goosebumps on your skin, “So you were considering it, though.”

Your eyes widen, you shake your head, “No…I…uh.”

She quirks a brow at you, her smile telling you she sees right through your mumbling.

You drop your head, smiling bashfully, “It may have crossed my mind.”

A full smile breaks across her cheeks, her dimples on full display. You know your eyes must be something close to pitch black at the sight, your mind subconsciously trying to take in as much of the image as physically possible. She leans back in her chair, still smiling, pulling your hand into her lap as you drive away from the curb. 

You’re anxious to get home, the promise of a movie night on your mind—the possibility of moving your relationship a little faster even more present. 

There’s tension crackling between the two of you the entire drive back, unspoken but understood. When you lead her into your front door, you’re half expecting to be shoved onto the nearest horizontal surface. It may have happened, too, if not for Mr. Burton. 

The second Jenna walks through the door, he comes bounding off his shelf, his black tail held high, and his ears pricked up. The cat had fallen for her, he seemed to enjoy her even more than he tolerated you. It would make you jealous if it weren’t so damn cute.

“Mr. Burton!” Jenna cries out, scooping him up and holding him on his back like a baby.

He purrs happily, pressing his head into her chest, his front paws curled under his chin. You’ve never seen him so docile. It makes you laugh softly, earning a glare from both Jenna and the cat.

“Don’t laugh at him,” she says, “he’s just a baby. Aren’t you?”

He meows on cue, and it’s enough to make you roll your eyes and leave them in the entry way. You settle into your couch and turn on the tv, flipping through apps and searching for something good to watch. It’s only noon, but you had no other plans, so a movie sounded like the perfect way to spend the afternoon close to Jenna.

She carries Mr. Burton into the living room and delicately places him on his cat tree with a kiss on the top of his little head.

“I think he loves you more than me,” you say, feigning irritation, but your soft smile gives you away.

Jenna curls into your side on the couch, smiling triumphantly, “Of course he does.”

You gaze down at her, “Can’t blame him, I guess.”

She wraps her arm around your waist and rests her head on your shoulder, “What’re we watching?”

Your cursor hovers over the Scream franchise, “Let’s watch this one.”

“I love the first one!”

“No I want to watch the ones I haven’t seen yet,” you say, squeezing her side.

She shoot’s up, reaching over to steal the remote from you. You hold it out of reach, laughing at her terror.

“We can’t watch those ones, y/n. Seriously! I’ll crawl out of my skin if I have to see myself on that screen.”

“Awh come on J, I haven’t seen them!”

She scoffs, reaches across your body for the remote again, “Absolutely not. Watch them when I’m not here.”

You laugh around your words, teasing her, “No, I like to watch Wednesday when you’re not here. Have you seen her? Good god, she’s sooo-“

“If you finish that sentence, I will walk out of this house.”

She’s fully leaning over you now, still struggling to wrestle the remote from your outstretched arm. It’s cute, watching her struggle, or it was at first. Now she’s in your space, you can smell her perfume, and you’re rapidly losing interest in watching a movie. She realizes her proximity at the same time you do, stopping her struggle to turn and look down at you.

The remote hits the floor when she climbs into your lap, her knees on either side of your legs. Your breathing picks up as your heart begins to pound. Her eyes are dark, her lips parted. She blinks once, so slowly it’s like watching her move in half time. 

The tension between the two of you snaps almost audibly, and everything gets very hot, very fast. Her hands are everywhere, her mouth on yours, her body pressing into you. You slide your fingers under her shirt, her skin warm on your palms. When she sighs into your mouth, it’s like you’ve just swallowed absinthe, the way it makes your entire body burn. 

Her shirt hits the floor faster than the remote had, and your lips leave hers in favor of her throat. She pulls you into her, pushing her hips forward hard into yours. You both groan at the pressure she’s creating, igniting the pace like gunpowder. 

Your kisses grow sloppy, trailing down her neck and over her chest. You’ve both abandoned taking it slow at this point. All you want is fast, fast, fast. Her pants are unbuttoned, and your shirt is halfway off your head when her phone rings.

You slow your movements, glancing over to it, buzzing on the couch next to you.

“Ignore it,” she says, breathless and pulling you back to her lips.

It stops ringing, and you’ve nearly forgotten it because she now has your shirt off and her lips on your neck. And it rings again.

She stops her lips and growls into your skin. The effect the sound has on you is embarrassingly immediate. Your fingers press into her sides, trying to relieve some amount of the pressure building in your lower abdomen. 

The phone rings again, and she sighs, sitting up and reaching over to grab it. She stays in your lap, and you sit there dumbstruck, watching her analyze the phone. 

“It’s Sam, I’m sorry,” she says, rolling her eyes and answering the call.

When she presses the phone to her ear, the skin of her chest is far too tempting to resist. You lean forward, kissing her there as she drops her head back, not stopping you.

“Hello?” She answers, a little breathy. “Sam, it’s not-“ she gasps as your lips travel to the top of her bra, but she still doesn’t stop you. “It’s not a great time right now.”

The hand that isn’t holding the phone runs across the back of your head, her fingers tangling in your hair and keeping you in place. 

“Speaker? Seriously can this wait like, a few hours?”

You pull back, your eyebrows raised. A few hours? The thought sends you into a whole other gear. When you start to lean forward again, she pulls her hand from your hair and places it on your chest, stopping you. You look up, and her face is more serious, she shakes her head. 

You want to pout, push your lip out like a child at her self control. Instead, you stay where you are, waiting. Hoping the call ends soon.

It does not. She pulls the phone from her ear and taps the speaker phone button.

“Okay, you’re on speaker, she can hear you,” Jenna says, her tone clearly irritated.

“Great,” comes Sam’s voice, “we’ve come up with the plan.”

When neither of you speak, she carries on, “You’re going to Coachella.”

You frown in confusion. What did Coachella have to do with anything?

“I know, my sisters are coming with me,” Jenna says.

“And so is y/n. It’s the perfect way to get people talking about the two of you, hopefully without mentioning the mugshot. And they’ll get new pictures which should put them off on a new tangent.”

All you heard was that you would be meeting the Ortega sisters. Anxiety courses through you, nervousness at the thought of being introduced to the family. Jenna sees it cross your face and rests her hand on your shoulder, her thumb rubbing your neck. She looks down at you, awaiting your answer.

“Do I have a choice?” You ask, wide eyed and clearly anxious.

“No,” Sam says, “pack your bags. You’re going home, J.”

——

The entire two hour drive to Coachella, you’re a nervous wreck. Your hands sweat, your heart beats wildly, your mind races.

Jenna being in the passenger seat helps, some. She spends most of the ride assuring you her sisters are going to love you. The other parts of the ride, she’s asleep with her hand wrapped in yours and her head knocking into the window every time you hit a pothole. 

When you pull into the hotel parking lot, you gently shake her awake.

“Hey, Jenna, we made it.”

She lifts her head, blinking sleepily. She squints out the windshield, eyeing the hotel. 

“Mmkay,” she says, then proceeds to rest her head back against the seat and fall asleep again.

You chuckle, your heart growing at least three sizes at the sight of her sleepy face. You turn the car off and climb out, pulling your bags from the trunk and leaving them near the passenger side. You open her door and squat down, shaking her again.

“Hey, sleepyhead. We’re here. Let’s go get checked in.”

She grumbles, yawning and stretching, “Okay, okay. This bed better be as comfortable as your car.”

You finally drag her to the counter, shocked at the lack of a crowd around the hotel. No one knows she’s here yet, or you would have been swarmed on your way in.

You wait close behind her, waiting your run to check in. Once the receptionist pushes over the key cards, Jenna hands them off to you, still bleary eyed. She starts to head for the elevators, but you call after her.

“Are you going to wait for me to get my room?” You ask her.

She frowns, jerking her head back, “You have the key right there.”

You look down at the key, look back at her. The puzzle finally falls into place. 

“Oh…oh. We’re sharing a room.”

“Do you not want to?” She asks, running her eye with her knuckles.

“I…I…I mean…if you want to then…I’m okay with it.”

She smiles, rolling her eyes playfully, “Then let’s go.”

You follow her like a puppy on a leash through the hotel lobby and into the elevator. She sways, still heavy with sleep. It’s only 9 PM, but she looks ready to collapse. You pull her into your side, letting her lean into you, and she wraps her arms around your waist, resting her head on your chest.

She beelines straight for the bed before the door even closes in the room. You settle the luggage in the armchair and at the door of the bed and wander to admire the suite.

“This place is so nice,” you say, mostly to yourself.

“Yeah, you can appreciate it tomorrow. Come lay with me, I’m so tired.” Jenna whines from the bed. 

You turn and see she’s made herself comfortable over the blankets, resting high on the pillows. She stretches her arms out, reaching for you. Who are you to say no to her?

You kick your shoes off and climb onto the bed, letting her pull you over to lay on her chest. She runs her fingers through your hair, humming quietly.

“Thanks for driving. I don’t think I would have made it.”

You snort, “You were asleep before we even got halfway.”

She hums in agreement again, “Car rides are my weakness, I can’t ever stay awake.”

You don’t respond, just smile. Her shirt is soft on your cheek, her nails scratching lightly at your scalp.

“Are you still nervous about tomorrow?” She asks you.

You close your eyes, nodding against her silently. It’s hard to feel anxious when she’s scratching your head, her heartbeat steady in your ear, and her breathing lulling you into a peaceful relaxation.

“Don’t be anxious, baby, they’ll be nice. I promise.”

Your eyes shoot open, your heartbeat ticking a notch faster. You push yourself up on your elbow, picking your head up to look at her. She smiles curiously at you, trying to figure out what caused you to move.

“What did you just call me?”

Her face turns the most gorgeous shade of pink as she realizes what she’d said. She bites her lip, looking a little unsure.

“Do you not like it? I’m sorry I can-“

You don’t let her finish her apology. You’re on top of her in less than a blink of an eye, your lips on hers in a frenzy. She’s quick to respond, her hands sliding up your shirt and her nails scratching at your back. You sit up and pull the shirt over your head. You don’t plan to slow down, but the look on her face gives you a moment for pause.

She looks perfect. Absolutely, perfectly divine. The freckles across her nose and cheeks, the stray hairs hanging in her face, her soft brown eyes, and her lips. Oh, the things you would do for those lips. 

Your admiration is cut short when she pulls you back into her, almost rough in her haste. You’re not sure when her clothes come off, somewhere in between your tongue slipping into her mouth and her lips pressing into your neck. It’s all a lust fogged haze, cloudy in your mind until you’re naked and your stomach is pressed between her legs. 

You want to go slow, savor the moment of your first time together. You want to go fast, rush into the ecstasy that is sure to come.  Your indecision is dissolved when she rolls you onto your back, taking the control out of your hands. 

You think you might be dreaming, when she trails kisses down your ribs, her hands gripping your thighs. Normally, you’d feel uncomfortable being so out of control, but the look in her eyes is enough to keep you planted. 

She kisses the inside of your leg, looks back up to lock eyes with you, “Is this okay?” She asks, her voice low.

You gulp, nodding. You can’t trust your voice not to crack, so you keep your mouth shut. But it doesn’t stay that way for long. 

You gasp when she presses her lips to your clit, and you nearly black out when she licks an exploratory stripe through you. She wraps her hands around your legs, her hands squeezing the tops of your thighs as she licks you, sucks you. She moans between your legs, and you see stars, your fingers reaching down to intertwine with hers. 

It would be embarrassing, how quickly you’re writhing underneath her, if you had the wherewithal to care. But you don’t, and your back is arching off the bed, and your fingers are squeezing hers, and your throat is raw from how heavy your breathing has grown. 

You’ve wanted this for longer than you care to admit, and it’s even better than you’d imagined. With a breathy sigh, you’re cumming under the pressure of her mouth, turned to absolute putty in her hands. She kisses her way back up your body and you’re flipping her over before the shivers of your orgasm have even left your bones.

Any inclination to savor the moment is burned away by the flames raging in your stomach. You have to have her. Now.

The kisses you trail down her body are hasty, sloppy, hurried. You’ll enjoy the expanses of her skin later, right now, you only have one thing on your mind. 

The sound she makes when your mouth meets her is like the origin of the universe. It’s unexplainable, it’s perfect, and it’s all for you. You want to split apart, give her every piece if she just keeps making those sounds. 

Her hands are in your hair, tugging at your scalp. You reach up, your palm running up her arm, asking her to be patient while you enjoy her. Your lips wrap around her clit, and you suck. She lifts her hips into you, seeking more from you. She’s unraveled and greedy, and it’s everything you hoped for and more. 

She whimpers when you lift your head to kiss her thigh, hips lifting again, wanting. Your finger dips into her entrance, and you look up at her. Before your eyes even find hers, she’s already nodding, pulling at you. You push a finger in and ascend, your lips crashing into hers as you feel her tight around you. You give her a second before adding another, swallowing her moans when they leave her mouth. 

She feels so good around your fingers, you wonder if it’s even possible that she’s enjoying this more than you. But the way she squirms under you, and her nails raking down your back tell the gospel truth of her pleasure. 

She jerks her head away, gasping for air. You lick at her pulse, kiss the sweet and lightly salty skin of her neck. Her chest presses up into yours, her nails digging into your skin, her groaning in your ear. Her orgasm is intense and long, and it has her sighing your name between inhales and exhales. It’s the most moving hymn you’ve ever borne witness to. It’s poetry. 

She slumps into the bed, and you’re close behind, falling over on her side. You’re both silent for a while, gathering yourselves and slowing your breathing. 

After a few minutes, she rolls over, half her body resting on yours. She presses a kiss to your sternum before placing her hand there and eating her chin on it. You smile down at her, still high on your bliss.

“I’m calling you baby every single day from here on out,” she says, her voice practically a sigh.

You lean down, kiss the top of her head, “Clearly, I hate it.”

She giggles, kisses your neck, and sighs again. She settles in on your side, you can feel her eyelashes flutter closed on your skin. Her breathing evens out so fast you’re in awe at how quickly she falls asleep. 

You ruminate on the events of the night, hanging on to every detail as long as you can before you’re falling asleep too.

BRAZILIANS SWIFTIES NEED HELP!!!

As some of you might be aware, tomorrow the general sales for The Eras Tour in Brazil start and it's a complete MESS! This is a cry for help and our attempt to reach as many US fans as we can, since it's easier for them to be noticed by Taylor Nation! If you're a US Swiftie, bear with me because we desperately need your help!

Scalpers are mass buying tickets on site and online and T4F (Tickets For Fun) the company responsible for bringing Taylor to Brazil is being complicit with them. There are also scalpers finding ways around the website system and buying 100+ plus tickets when the maximum was 4 per social security number! General sales start tomorrow and scalpers are already camping at the stadium box office and threatening the fans who are pressuring them to leave and T4F continues to do NOTHING.

Now the situation has got even more dire and fans are being THREATENED with violence and even suffering homophobia! Two girls were also physically assaulted and a boy was beaten up with a BEER BOTTLE! WE ARE FEARING FOR OUR LIVES!

In this tweet fans are updating in real-time their account of what is happening!

We're trying to reach as many news outlets as we can, but up until now we haven't heard back from anyone and the police just got to the scene but it appears that NOTHING has changed! The stadiums, Allianz Parque and Engenhão are ALSO silent about this.

We are also using the hashtag T4F QUEREMOS RESPEITO to ask for respect and to pressure the company into doing SOMETHING! We're hoping that if it reaches Taylor Nation we have a higher chance of resolving the situation before people start to get MORE injured. PLEASE HELP US!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

@taylornation @taylorswift

Devil in the Details

Pairings: Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: Tara accidentally runs into on campus, and she’s immediately enchanted by you and asks you for help. You give her the wrong advice and she holds it against you.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, slight drinking, mentions of sex, Frankie, mentions of Tara’s family issues. If I missed any, let me know!

AN: not my best work but oh well

Word Count: 12k (im sorry)

The fall leaves gently drifted onto the ground as Tara bolted across the Blackmore campus. She was already running late; her alarm was set for pm instead of am, and she had no idea where she was going. The sky was dark, and Tara could hear the distant sounds of thunder as she rounded a corner and smacked right into someone, causing her to fall to the ground.

“Are you okay?” The stranger said as they let out a small chuckle and reached out to pull Tara off the ground. When Tara finally opened her eyes and made eye contact with the stranger, her heart fluttered.

The woman was undoubtedly gorgeous-there was no denying that-and she simply towered over the more petite girl. Tara was enchanted by the girl’s eyes that shined through the gloomy weather surrounding them and how her features contrasted with the outside world.

She spoke with the voice of an angel that sang in Tara’s ears, as Tara just stared blankly at her.

The girl shifted from one foot to the other, clearly not expecting this to happen, “are you okay?” She questioned again with her arm still extended.

Snapping out of her trance, Tara eagerly grabbed the stranger’s hand and stood up, “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. I was supposed to be at my class ten minutes ago and don’t know where the room is. I just ran from the other side of campus, and I’m lost,” Tara rambled on as she talked with her hands. She was getting ready to talk more, but the stranger interrupted her.

“Okay, slow down,” she said with a soft smile that caused her eyes to crinkle, “what class is it?”

Tara let out a defeated sigh. She hated having to rely on people for help, especially strangers. She felt they had a mysterious power over her, and she hated not being in control. “Chemistry with Mrs. Rosalind in Franklin Hall.”

The stranger turned slightly to her left before pointing towards a brick building, “Franklin Hall is that way. Just go past this building and make a sharp left. It will be on your right past the giant water feature; you can’t miss it.” She finished with a mischievous smirk that Tara mistook for a flirtatious one.

“Thank you so much; I owe you!” Tara yelled with a smile as she had already started to jog away from the stranger, but she mentally slapped herself for not asking the girl her name.

The stranger smiled as she watched Tara slowly disappear, her heart fluttering at the more petite girl’s smile. Once she lost sight of her, she turned around and went to Franklin Hall.

——————————————————————————

“I met the worst fucking person on the planet today!” Tara exclaimed as she walked into her shared apartment before violently throwing her bag onto the floor and kicking off her shoes. She stomped to the couch and flopped onto it with a huff.

Sam tried her best not to laugh at her sister’s antics, as she always met ‘the worst person on the planet’ at least once a week. “Who was it this time?” She questioned as she walked into the living room and sat on the chair opposite Tara, but upon closer inspection, Sam noticed that her baby sister was a little damp. “And why are you wet?”

At Sam’s question, Tara sent her a deadly glare before taking off her shoes and socks, throwing a sock at Sam. “I will get to that in a minute; just let me rant about Satan.”

Sam quickly threw the sock off that landed on her shoulder with a disgusted face, “Okay then, tell me about your encounter with Satan.”

Tara lays back on the couch and laces her fingers together as if she was getting ready to talk to a therapist before speaking gently, “As you know, I woke up really late this morning, so I didn’t get to eat breakfast. Because of that, I was already in a bad mood and somehow ended up on the opposite side of campus. So I had to haul ass to return to the other side for my class when I accidentally ran into a woman.”

Sam ignored how Tara’s eyes seemed to sparkle when she mentioned the woman and how her eyes seemed to dance. “So you physically ran into Satan?” Sam questioned with a slight chuckle as she received a death glare from Tara, which resulted in Sam moving uncomfortably, “anyways, continue.”

“Before I was so rudely interrupted, this woman helped me up, and my god, Sam, she was so beautiful it almost made me cry. And she spoke with a gentle voice that sounded like angels. She also had these beautiful eyes that pulled me in. And that smile, I can’t even begin to describe it; it was the most perf-she’s a fucking bitch is what she is.” Tara ended with a hateful tone after realizing she had been daydreaming about the mysterious woman. “So I asked her where Franklin Hall was, and she pointed me toward it. So naturally, I took off running because I was late, and as soon as I rounded the corner, boom! I immediately fell right into a pool. I was shocked and forgot I had to swim, so someone had to jump in and save me. It was so embarra-stop laughing!”

Sam had a smile on her face since Tara started talking about this she-devil, trying to fight back a laugh, but she completely lost it when Tara said someone had to save her from drowning. She shouldn’t find her sister's near-death experience this funny, but she couldn’t help.

After a few minutes of Sam laughing, she eventually dries her tears before speaking with a small laugh, “I'm sorry, you can continue talking.”

Tara stared at her for a few seconds before returning to the story, “Anyways, this woman drags me out of the pool, and of course, I thank her. She asked me why I decided to swim, and I explained the situation to her. Naturally, she finds it funny and helps me find my class because we miraculously have it together. So we walk into class soaking wet, and guess who we sit by?” Tara finishes with an eyebrow raised.

“Who?” Sam questioned with a knowing feeling of who it was.

“The fucking devil. She has this devilish smirk on her face and doesn’t even look at me; she just leans past me and asks the lady I was with, ‘Decided to go for a swim, Anika?’ God, I fucking hate her.” Tara stated with a groan as she clenched her fists into the air, making it clear she hated this woman.

Sam couldn’t help the small chuckle that left her lips. “So, did you guys talk at all or just sit in awkward silence?”

Tara scoffed before sitting up on the couch. Clearly, this was something that angered her deeply, “oh, no, we did not talk. She talked. Talked the entire fucking class with that same fucking devilish smirk I just wanna kiss off.” Tara finished before realizing what she had just said, “Kick off, I meant. Anyways, the professor forced me to get my notes from her, and she gave them to me. But every five minutes or so, she would lean over and draw something on my paper. Look!” Tara exclaimed as she got up and grabbed her backpack, pulling out the piece of paper and handing it to Sam. The paper did indeed have little scribbles all over it.

The drawings varied from squiggly lines to stick figures sword fighting to even a tiny detailed drawing of Tara. “What’s this right here?” Sam asked as she pointed to beautiful penmanship that said ‘Y/N x Tara’ with a heart drawn around it.

“Oh, the devil wrote that after she asked for my name,” Tara said with a shrug of her shoulders as a slight blush crept up her neck, “she just tapped on my shoulder, asked me what my name was, and wrote that down before turning back to her book.”

Sam looked between Tara and the heart, wondering why Tara even kept the piece of paper as it didn’t have any notes on it. “Why did you keep it then? If she bothers you so much.” Sam questioned, hoping to catch her sister in a lie.

Caught off guard, Tara quickly stumbled over her words before snatching the paper out of Sam’s hands while grumbling, “Mind your own business,” as she stomped off to her room.

———————————————————-

Chemistry class continued like that for a week; Tara would mind her business while Y/N occasionally drew on Tara’s paper. By the week's end, Tara had a small collection of Y/N’s doodles. Still, her favorite one remained the drawings from the first day; the one with the heart wrapped around their names and a small drawing of herself. Tara could help but smile at the thought of it, but her smile quickly dropped every time she saw you.

“Good morrow, Tara,” Y/N said as she placed her backpack on the table and sat in her chair. Tara rolled her eyes at Y/N before speaking, “It was until I saw you.”

Y/N scoffed at her words as she swiveled to face Tara, “Why must you wound me?”

“I don’t know, maybe because you made me walk half a mile in the wrong direction and caused me to fall into some water?” Tara asked with an annoyed tone as she looked Y/N in her eyes. She wanted to strangle the girl, especially when Y/N laughed when Tara mentioned the water.

Wiping the tears away from her eyes, Y/N laughed, “Yeah, I forgot about that. That was a gas, wasn’t it?”

“No, it wasn’t a ‘gas,’” Tara exclaimed as she kicked Y/N’s chair, causing the girl to roll slightly away from her, “someone had to jump in and save me. Where is she, by the way?”

“Anika? She stayed home; she woke up with a temp this morning, so I made her some soup and promised to fill her in with everything we did today.” Y/N said as she pulled out a notebook and pen, preparing to take notes instead of writing all over Tara’s paper, which caused Tara to look at her with an eyebrow raised, “Sorry, beautiful, no drawings today.”

Tara rolled her eyes at Y/N’s comment but quickly faced away from the girl to hide her blush as the lecture started. She wondered if Anika and Y/N lived together, as the girl mentioned she made her soup this morning, or if she just woke up early and made her friend something; either way, she figured that was the one good deed she did in a year.

Once class was over, Y/N politely held the door open for Tara, which earned her a scoff and an elbow to the side. “I don’t know why you dislike me, Tara. I haven’t done anything to cause you harm,” Y/N said as she jogged to catch up with the shorter girl who tried her best to speed-walk away from Y/N.

“Are you serious right now?” Tara asked as she continued to walk quickly; for every three steps she took, Y/N took one.

“Okay, that was not my fault. You should have been paying more attention. And I can’t believe you are still upset about that,” Y/N stated while looking down at Tara.

Tara quickly stopped her movements as she looked at Y/N. “I am not explaining this to you again, as your pea-sized brain cannot seem to comprehend why I am furious with you!” Tara finished as she shoved her pointer finger into Y/N’s chest.

Y/N just smiled at the girl before reaching up and wrapping her hand around Tara’s finger before pulling it close to her lips as she gently kissed the back of her hand, right where Tara’s scar was. “Sei bellissima quando sei arrabbiata.”

When Y/N’s lips touched Tara’s hand and landed on her scar, electricity shot throughout her body; it almost caused her to shiver. Her body reached before she even had time to think; her hand quickly pulled back before her fist made its way right into Y/N’s face, and the sound of impact filled the air.

Y/N was slightly taken off her feet as she stumbled back a bit and reached up to feel her nose. She felt liquid drip onto her hand and brought her hand down to find crimson blood on her hand. She could already taste the copper in her mouth as the blood flowed easily. She couldn’t tell if it was broken, but she had a gut feeling it was. She quickly straightened her poster and stood there in silence as tears began to form in her eyes, and a slight trickle of blood ran from her nose, down her mouth, and dipped onto her clothing. That's the thing about getting hit in the nose; no matter the circumstance, you always cry. It could be because of the humiliation, the shock, or the sharp pain that followed. But no matter what you do afterward, you always have tears in your eyes.

“Okay.” Was all Y/N said before she turned away from Tara and started walking, tugging on her backpack straps. For some unknown reason, Tara felt shame quickly replace any sparks she had felt, which made her heart shatter.

When Y/N arrived home, she quickly sat her pack down and went into the shared bathroom. She wiped away the blood and waited for the flow to stop. Once she did, she popped her nose back into place. She sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror; she already had purple bruises forming under her eyes, and her nose was swollen and bruised. Y/N then turned off the bathroom lights, entered her room, and sat on her bed.

The moment to herself allowed her to think back on the harsh conversation she and Tara had merely an hour ago. She could still feel the sting of the punch every time she thought about it. It’s not like she didn’t apologize for sending Tara in the wrong direction; she brought the girl a small bouquet on the second day of class that had a small note that said, “It is I that is full of sorrow, for I doth bestow no harm onto thy lady of beauty.” Tara didn't say anything when Y/N handed her the flowers with a small smile, but she let out a dry chuckle when she read the note. Y/N believed they were on good terms after that, but sadly, she had assumed wrong.

The next day, Y/N walked in, sporting a pair of black sunglasses, as Tara was already in her seat. Y/N placed her bag on the table and sat down, entirely ignoring how Tara’s eyes burned into the side of her skull. Anika had not overthrown her illness yet, so it would just be the pair again. Tara could see the nasty purple that had formed underneath Y/N’s eye even though the girl still had her sunglasses on. She felt awful for what she did to Y/N and wanted to apologize, but she knew words couldn’t fix this. She didn’t know what could. So, they sat in awkward silence until the lecture began.

Hoping to ease the tension, Tara drew a small stick figure holding some flowers with the words “I'm sorry” in a word bubble. She slid it over to her left, praying Y/N would accept the peace offering. Tara did not expect Y/N to draw a stick figure holding garden shears, cutting the flowers in two before sliding the paper back to Tara. She stared blankly at Y/N before taking the piece of paper and shoving it into her bag with a huff.

The weekend arrived and passed in a fly, and it was Monday again, but Tara silently screamed for joy when she saw Anika to the right of her seat. She was so glad to have Anika back and hoped it would make her feel less bad about Y/N. The two joked the entire class while Y/N sat silently, too interested in what Professor Rosalind had to say. However, after class, Anika pulled Tara off the side once Y/N had left.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Anika whisper-shouted at Tara, burning holes into Tara’s eyes with her own, “Why did you punch Y/N?!”

“Because she kissed my hand, and I freaked out! I told her I was sorry, but she’s still mad at me.” Tara defended with slightly frustrated eyes as she clenched and unclenched her fist.

“Of course, she’s going to be mad at you, you broke her nose, and she was out of commission all weekend!” Anika replied, not phased when Tara said that Y/N had kissed her hand; she liked to do that to people she found attractive.

Tara looked down at the ground in shame, not knowing how to respond. Anika sighed as she rubbed her hands on Tara's triceps, “I’m sorry, Tara. I shouldn’t have yelled at you earlier; I just get protective over Y/N. Trust me; I know better than anyone that she can be an asshole. I've wanted to strangle her several times, but you eventually warm up to her.”

Tara scoffed at her words and rolled her eyes, “She cut up the fake flowers I drew for her; I am not warming up to her anytime soon!”

Not wanting to argue, Anika dropped the subject, “anyways, let’s not talk about Y/N. Would you like to work together on this chemistry project?”

Tara beamed at the mention of the chemistry project; She had already figured Anika would work with Y/N since they were best friends, and she was a little skeptical about working with her as she didn’t want to upset Y/N even more.

As if reading her thoughts, Anika voiced, “Don't worry about Y/N; she’s already finished the project. She prefers to work alone anyways.”

Tara nodded, “Yeah, I’d love to work with you on it.”

“Okay, good! We can start on it next Monday around five. I’ll send you my address.” Anika said with a smile as she walked towards her next class. Tara was just grateful she had a partner for this project, so she smiled as she went to her next class.

——————————————————

Sam’s car slowly pulled up to the apartment complex Anika had sent her; it was reasonably pleasant, with eight different levels. “Okay, this is it,” Tara said as she grabbed her backpack from the backseat and opened the door, but Sam placed her hand on Tara’s arm, causing the girl to stop her movements.

“Call me if you need anything, Tara. I’m serious,” Sam stated as she looked at her baby sister. She worried about Tara like a mother. Her protectiveness knows no bounds. But she wanted Tara to have some form of a social life, so she allowed Tara to go to a friend’s house for this project. She’d never tell her sister, but Sam’s stomach hurt when Tara was away.

Tara placed her own hand over Sam’s, “Don’t worry, Sam, I’ll be safe. I’ll text you when you get to Anika’s room.” Tara slowly climbed out of the car and was getting ready to close the door but stopped, “I love you, Sammy.”

Sam smiled at her sister, her heart filled with joy at Tara’s words, “I love you too. Now be safe and nice!” Sam knew that Tara could sometimes be an angry little dog that liked to bite ankles, so she felt it necessary to warn her sister.

Tara rolled her eyes at Sam’s words as she closed the car door and approached the complex's entrance. She turned around and sent Sam a wave before entering the building.

The elevator was broken-to her demise-so she dragged herself up five flights of stairs. Out of breath, she sauntered over the door that had ‘237’ on it. ‘Great, I’m going to get murdered by the ghost of Lorraine Massey after climbing up seven thousand steps,’ Tara thought to herself as she knocked on the door.

When the door flew open, any air Tara had managed to keep trapped in her lungs flew out. Standing before her was Y/N in nothing but a sports bra and shorts. Tara’s eyes raked over Y/N’s body, She had sweat glistening on her chest and stomach, and Tara admired her abs and subconsciously reached out to touch them as she licked her lips. Y/N quickly slapped Tara’s hand away while glaring at her with narrowed eyes, snapping Tara out of her fantasy.

“What do you want? You aren’t welcome at my mojo dojo casa house,” Y/N stated as she crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway. Tara could hear her heart beating in her ears, and her palms started to sweat. She had sworn to hate Y/N, but the girl made it so hard.

Tara was at a loss for words; not only did she have to climb up five flights of stairs, but the Devil herself was standing in front of her in all her beauty, shirtless, and had just caught her staring at her chest and abs. “A-Anika.” Tara managed to mumble out.

“Anika, your weird pervert friend is undressing me with her eyes,” Y/N called out into the apartment room before turning her attention back to Tara with a mischievous smirk.

“I-I’m not-” Tara stuttered, too ashamed that Y/N had caught her checking her out. “No,” she finally whispered.

Y/N glared at Tara, not saying anything. She enjoyed watching the smaller girl squirm under her gaze. Y/N studied how Tara refused to meet her gaze and kept shifting the weight on her feet.

Tara heard a muffled voice yell from behind Y/N, causing the shirtless woman to look behind her and walk a little bit into the apartment. Y/N said something that Tara couldn’t make out, and Anika responded to her, but by how Y/N tilted her head back and let out an angry noise from the back of her throat, Tara only assumed it wasn’t good.

She stomped back to Tara and crossed her arms as she leaned against the doorframe. “Anika is in the shower. She’ll be a couple of minutes,” Y/N said with an irritated tone as she glared down at Tara.

“Oh, okay then. Would it be alright with you if I came in then?” Tara asked with hopeful eyes and a slightly awkward smile, causing Y/N to let out a small laugh. She didn’t say anything in response, and Tara was getting ready to shove past Y/N, but the taller girl moved to the side, uncrossed her arms, and made a welcome gesture.

“Thank you,” Tara said as she walked into the apartment with her head down. Tara followed Y/n into the living room and sat on the couch with her hands in her lap. She could feel more comfortable if it was just her waiting on Anika, not her and the shirtless devil.

“Just make sure your gremlin attitude doesn’t seep into the couch and ruin it,” Y/N mumbled as she walked into her room and shut the door.

Not knowing what to do, Tara quietly sat while looking at her phone, patiently waiting for Anika. After what seems like hours, Anika finally comes out of her room, “I am so sorry, Tara. Y/N and I carried some slushies, and she tripped on the stairs. Anyways, long story short, the drinks landed on me, and I had to take a shower,” Anika said as she walked over to the couch and pulled out a binder for their project.

It seemed a little too convenient that Y/N had ‘accidentally’ tripped and somehow managed to get all the drinks over Anika and none on herself, and then after Anika had told Y/N that Tara was coming by, she started to work out right after. It also seemed a little too convenient that the hot water stopped working a few minutes into her shower, causing Anika to wait for it to return and extend her shower even longer.

“That’s okay. I’m just glad we can get started on this project,” Tara replied as she scooted over so Anika could sit beside her.

Anika sat beside Tara with the binder on her lap and opened it, flipping through the papers as she spoke, “I hope Y/N wasn’t too mean. She likes to hold grudges.”

“She wasn’t too much, just her normal self,” Tara said shyly. She was not about to admit to Anika, let alone herself that she thought about fornicating with the much taller woman. “So, let's get started on this project then?”

“Let us,” Anika replied as she read through the instructions. The two worked together peacefully for thirty minutes, joking back and forth with each other and making little progress on the task at hand. Thirty minutes then turned into an hour and a half of gossiping, their project long forgotten.

Y/N had been halfway listening to the two girls outside, waiting until the perfect time to leave her cave. When she deemed the time was right, she did enough push-ups and enough squats to work up a decent sweat and sauntered out into the living room, still in her shorts and bra.

Tara's eyes instantly snapped towards the door that flew open, and her heartbeat immediately picked up. Her leg began to bounce, but Anika noticed and placed her hand on the girl’s leg, giving her a look of disbelief.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” Anika called out with a slight hint of frustration while pressing Tara’s knee down.

Y/N scoffed as she walked into the kitchen, “I'm getting some water? Am I not allowed to be thirsty?” She asked with a playful smirk she sent toward Tara. She knew Tara was checking her out and loved watching the girl fight her urges.

“So you’ve been working out for two hours now and finally decided that you might need some water?” Anika questioned, not believing Y/N for a second. She knew that Y/N loved to tease people, especially Tara, who would knock back and argue like a match made in hell.

Y/N grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and then walked toward the couch, “um, yes? Why is that so hard to believe?” She asked with sass as she placed a hand on her hip while holding the bottle in the other.

Anika stared at Y/N with a look that said, ‘I seriously cannot believe you right now.’ She then blinked, rolled her eyes, and said dryly, “Because you went to the gym this morning like you do every day. And you never workout at home because you said ‘I don’t have enough space to sculpt this perfect body’” she used air quotes when she spoke.

“What are you getting at then?” Y/N questioned, refusing to back down from this challenge.

Anika just shrugged and returned to her project, refusing to give in to Y/N’s challenge. Disbelief took over Y/N’s face; usually, Anika argued back with her, but for some reason, she didn’t, which made Y/N sad.

With a frown, she shuffled back into her room. She grabbed some clothes and walked towards the shared bathroom. “I'm taking a shower. Please don’t use the water,” she announced as she closed the door.

“Whatever,” Anika mumbled as she went back to the project. She asked Tara a question, and when she didn’t get a response, she looked up to find Tara staring holes into the bathroom door.

“Hey! Snap out of it! This isn’t you!” Anika commanded as she snapped her fingers in front of Tara’s face. The girl was quickly pulled back into reality when Anika snapped her fingers as if in a trance. She mumbled a quiet ‘sorry’ as she returned to work.

Every Monday and Friday for two weeks were spent like that; Tara would come over for a project, and Y/N would miraculously be working out simultaneously. She would walk into the kitchen, grab a bottle of water, grab some clothes, and shower. And every single time, Tara could not pull her eyes away. And every single time, Anika had to snap Tara out of it. Tara wanted to stop staring at Y/N, especially after everything between them, but she couldn’t.

Of course, Y/N and Tara did not talk during their chemistry class. Sometimes, Y/N would ask Anika to relay a message to Tara, and those messages were, ‘You look dreadful,’ ‘You look decent today,’ ‘Your appearance isn’t assaulting my eyes,’ ‘Ouch, that hurt. Please don’t kick me again.’ Sometimes, they were helpful messages, ‘Your shoe is untied,’ ‘The answer is C,’ or even, ‘Your hair isn’t braided evenly.’

Tara would try to speak to Y/N, but the girl would uphold her head and side-eye Anika. Then Tara would have to lean over to Anika, tell her whatever she wanted to say, and then Anika would have to lean across Tara and talk to Y/N. It would have been entertaining if Anika had sat between them and not Tara, but she took what she could get. The class continued like that for a few weeks until it was time for the labs to begin. Of course, Professor Rosalind made her students work in groups of three, so naturally, Anika, Tara, and Y/N worked together.

Anika and Y/N were messing around with a Bunsen burner while Tara actually tried to do the project. They were supposed to be doing an ion flame test, but Y/N kept on getting distracted by the different colors the flames would emit.

“Oh my god, guys, look at this one!” Y/N exclaimed as she held a small wire loop in the Bunsen burner flame. The flame below the wire was blue, but the flame above it was a blue-green color. Anika looked over at Y/N and was utterly fascinated by it, but Tara could have cared less.

“Which compound is that?” Tara asked with a bored tone.

“Copper,” Y/N replied, matching Tara’s tone. Tara just rolled her eyes at Y/N as she wrote down ‘copper=blue/green”.

The lab continued like that; Y/N and Anika would mess around with the fire while Tara wrote down the answers. Tara had completely blocked them out of her mind until she heard Y/N say, “Anika, I will throw hand sanitizer on you if you do not stop.”

That one sentence pulled Tara out of the daydream, and she was instantly alert. Tara’s head was immediately filled with the screams of her ex-girlfriend, Amber. Her eyes darted around the room, afraid that Ghostface would come to finish her story at any moment. Y/N gently placed her hand on Tara’s lower back, and she quickly remembered where she was.

Y/N looked at Tara with worry as she rubbed the girl’s back. “Is everything alright, Tara?” She asked with worry in her voice.

Tara just nodded her head, “Yeah, I’m good. Just got a cold chill.” Y/N gave Tara a weak smile, one that ‘I don’t believe, but I won’t pressure you about it.’ Tara smiled back at Y/N as the taller woman pulled her hand off Tara’s back.

After their moment in the lab, Y/N quickly left the building, saying something about needing to return some video tapes. As Anika and Tara walked out together, Anika said, “So, one of my buddies is throwing this Christmas party at his frat house. Would you want to go to that with me?”

Tara thought about it for a moment; she really wanted to go out and possibly find someone to hook up with; god only knows her sex life has been lacking lately. “Sure, when is it?” Tara asked after a few beats of silence.

“It’s on Friday, the 15th, so in a couple of weeks, at the Sigma Nu house. I can pick you up and take you with me; I’m already taking Mindy,” Anika suggested.

“Okay, sounds good. Is there a theme?”

“Ugly sweater, but that's fine if you don’t have one. It starts at six, but I’ll pick you up about ten minutes before.”

Tara smiled at Anika’s words, “Okay, sweet. Sounds good.”

—----------------------------------------------------------

On a Tuesday afternoon, around six, Tara went to the library to find any books she might need. As her eyes grazed over the names of authors, she slowly rounded the corner and went to walk over to the next aisle, but someone caught her eye. Her eyes drifted over to Y/N. She was sitting by herself with a book in hand. The cover was red with different patterns, and Tara laughed to herself when she read the title.

“‘The Devil and Tom Walker.’ It's a good book and it suits you,” Tara said to Y/N, who slightly lifted her head out of the book to look at Tara. Her eyes locked with Tara’s, and Tara swore that she could see a hint of sadness in them, along with hurt. But it was only there for a second, as the sadness and hurt quickly turned into anger.

“It would be a good book if my pea-sized brain could comprehend the words,” Y/N said dryly, refusing to meet Tara’s piercing gaze. Tara felt her heart break slightly at those words, but just as Y/N’s eyes did, her chest filled with anger.

Tara walked closer to the table Y/N was sitting at, causing the girl to look up from her book, “Look, I am sorry I hit you, okay? I apologized, yet you still insist on being rude to me.” Tara huffed out as her hands rested on the back of the chair across from Y/N.

Y/N looked up from her book, glaring at Tara with narrow eyes, “You broke my nose and insulted my intelligence, asshole. Unless you’ve already forgotten that.”

Tara laughed dryly, “You made me late to class, fall into some water, and cut up my apology flowers!”

Y/N stood up from the table and threw her book into her backpack before walking with heavy footsteps around the table and towards Tara, “Well, at least I had the decency to give you real flowers as an apology, you fucker.” She finished as she pushed Tara.

She stumbled back a bit at the force, but Tara quickly recovered. She clenched and unclenched her fist, trying not to hit Y/N again, no matter how much she wanted to.

“You are an insufferable, miserable, pretentious idiot who only causes harm.” Tara belittled as she poked Y/N’s chest.

Y/N remembered it all too well the last time this happened, but she wanted to be the one with the final say.

“At least my family hasn’t left me. At least I know what it’s like to have a functional family. Something you will never know.”

She regretted it as soon as the words left her lips. Tara’s face instantly reacted to the words, as if she had been shot. Tears began forming in her eyes at the mention of her family’s troubled past. Her chest began to heave, her vision got blurry with tears, and she turned away from Y/N. She pushed away Y/N’s hands and ignored the words that were being said, “Tara, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean it.” She didn't want to be around Y/N; she didn't want her to see her this weak and pathetic.

“You had no right, Y/N. No right at all to say that. I confided in you with that information,” Tara muttered, her voice laced with venom and hurt.

She started to walk away from Y/N, slowly, then quickly. Once she left the library, she sat on the stairs and broke down. Her quiet sobs filled the air as she tried to regain her breath, but nothing seemed to work. She stopped crying momentarily when the library doors swung open and hurried footsteps stopped behind her.

She wiped the tears from her eyes as someone sat beside her. “Tara, please. I'm sorry. I didn’t mean it.” Y/N whispered gently as her voice began to break, along with her heart.

She never meant to hurt Tara. She just wanted the girl to leave her alone. All she’s ever wanted in life was to be left alone, but now she can't stop herself from wanting to be alone with Tara, which terrified her. She hasn’t wanted anyone in her entire life, no one except Tara. And now, she had mentioned Tara’s traumatic past of failed family relationships and knew that Tara would never forgive her.

Tara didn’t even mean to tell Y/N about her family issues; Y/N had overheard the smaller girl confide in Anika one day at the library. Tara talked about her father leaving during Christmas, her mother cutting her older sister out of her life, then her older sister leaving one day without a trace. She also talked about how her alcoholic mother practically left her alone as a child. She then mentioned that Sam only returned when Tara was attacked; she didn’t go into details, but Y/N knew it pained her too much to discuss. Anika and Y/N both picked up on the meaning behind her words: no one has ever loved me enough to stay, so I will live and die alone, just as I have my entire life. When Tara was done talking, Y/N didn’t say anything; she just pushed a drawing toward her and smiled when Tara looked at her. It was a drawing of three people: Anika, Tara, and Y/N. They were all sitting on the floor next to a Christmas tree, opening presents and smiling. There was a fireplace that they sat in front of, and on the mantel were the words “Found Family.” They still weren’t on good terms, but that drawing made Tara feel slightly better about herself and Y/N.

Tara was pulled from her thoughts when she felt an arm wrap around her shoulders. Tara didn’t fight back when Y/N pulled her into her chest. Y/N placed her right hand on Tara’s head while rubbing her thumb against the girl’s head. Her left arm held Tara against her chest while she rubbed her back with her hand. She let Tara cry into her chest. She didn’t say anything as Tara took hiccuped breaths. She didn't say anything when Tara repeatedly said, ‘I hate you,’ with a weak voice. And she certainly didn't say anything when her own cheeks became wet with tears. Instead, she leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on Tara’s head, saying, ‘I know’ as she rubbed the girl’s back.

Once Tara had finished her sobs, she pulled back from Y/N’s chest. Y/N expected the girl to hit her again, to scream at her and tell her to die in a hole; she expected everything. She everything except what happened.

Tara let out a small, dry chuckle. She stood up from the stairs, wiped her eyes and cheeks, and looked down at Y/N. She had the most honest look in her eyes, something that Y/N had never seen in the girl before. “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you so much for showing me the real you. I am so glad that I didn’t waste my time on you. Seriously, thank you so much for sparing me the misery of knowing you beyond just an acquaintance,” Tara said with such an honest tone that Y/N had a hard time believing that Tara was insulting her.

“Okay.” That was all Y/N said. She stood up from the stairs and looked at Tara. They both had water-stained cheeks, red eyes, and noses, but one only felt relief while the other felt pain. Any friendship that they might have rekindled died that day. Tara said nothing as Y/N walked away with her bag over her shoulder. Y/N felt nothing but pain as she walked away from the beautiful girl she just made cry; tears of her own began free falling from her eyes the further she walked away.

Once Tara could no longer see Y/N, she slowly returned home. As she walked home, her heartbeat picked up, and she subconsciously walked quicker. She didn’t know why, but she had a gut feeling something terrible had happened. She pulled out her phone and called Sam, hoping her sister was still around. Y/N’s words cut deep, and she was terrified that Sam had left her again. When Sam didn’t answer, Tara started to hyperventilate. Her fingers began to shake, and her vision became blurry with tears as she clicked on Sam’s number and called her again. When Sam didn’t pick up the second time, Tara lost all hope. She started to sprint as she sucked in her breaths, trying to keep some air trapped in her lungs.

She burst through the apartment entrance and flew up the stairs, ignoring how her lungs screamed for air, her chest tightened, and breaths began rare, and she ignored how her once broken leg started to hurt.

Her shaky hands fumbled with the keys to her apartment as she tried to unlock the door quickly. Her breathing was still trying to catch itself as Tara pushed herself through the door and slammed it shut. “Sam? Sam! Are you here?” Tara called out into the empty apartment.

She searched through every room in the apartment, checked every bathroom and every closet, trying to find her sister. She screamed out for Sam in hopes that her sister might hear her pleas wherever she ran off to. She even looked under every bed to ensure Sam wasn’t pulling some disappearing prank on her like they did when they were kids. Once Tara had ransacked every nook and cranny of the apartment, she stumbled into Sam’s room and called her again. When Sam didn’t answer the third time, Tara cried herself to sleep on her sister’s bed, believing she genuinely pushed away the one person who had returned for her. She cried herself to sleep, believing that Y/N was right; no one would ever love her enough to stay.

When Sam woke up early in the morning, she gently pushed Danny’s arm off her waist. She rolled over on her side and immediately shot out of bed once she read 3:33 am on the clock. Sam quickly picked up her clothes and got dressed. She never meant to sleep over at Danny’s apartment. She worked a double and needed some sort of distraction. She ran through the apartment as she hunted down her phone and felt her heart shatter at the thirteen missed calls from Tara.

Sam didn’t tell Danny bye as she ran out of his apartment and returned to hers. She didn’t even need to use her key as she pushed open the unlocked door. “Tara?” Sam called out as she ran to her sister’s room. When Tara wasn’t there, she moved to her room and quietly pushed the door open.

Tara was sound asleep in Sam’s bed. She was curled up with a stuffed animal Sam had won her at a carnival earlier in the year. Sam turned off the overhead light as she walked over to her bed. She turned on the bedside lamp as she got under the covers, “Tara, wake up, baby,” she cooed gently while wrapping her arms around her sister. She saw her little sister’s smeared mascara and the dried tears on her cheeks. “Tara, I’m here now,” Sam said as she saw Tara start to stour in her sleep.

Tara slowly opened her swollen, red eyes and found herself in Sam’s arms. She let out a dry laugh before burying herself into Sam’s body, trying to get closer to Sam than she already was. Sam gently ran her fingers through Tara’s hair while whispering sweet words in her sister’s ear, trying to comfort the girl. Tara gently cried into Sam’s chest while she had a death grab on her back, scared that if she let go, Sam would disappear.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On Friday the 15th, Tara dug through her closet for a sweater. She tried her best not to find one too ugly, hoping she would get lucky tonight. She groaned as she looked at her options: a ‘Hereditary’ one with a cartoonish drawing of the husband on fire or a black one with ‘Big Gift Energy’ on it with presents at the bottom. Tara decided to go with the latter. Once she put on her sweater, she did her makeup and hair while waiting for Anika. And just as promised, Anika arrived ten minutes before six.

Tara opened the door for Anika and Mindy and laughed when she saw their sweaters: Anika had half a scissor on hers, while Mindy had the other half. “A bit on the nose, don’t you think?” Tara questioned as she followed them out to the bottom floor.

“Eh, I think it gets the message across,” Mindy says as she throws an arm around Anika’s neck, pulling her girlfriend into her side. Tara laughed at her friend’s words as they walked onto the street.

“Does Sam know about this?” Mindy asked, even though she had a feeling what the answer might be.

“Uh, no. She does not.” Tara mumbled.

Mindy just looked at Anika, and they both decided they didn’t want to get into a fight with Tara about Sam, so they just kept quiet as they walked toward the frat house.

When the three arrived, they instantly smelt the alcohol. They could even see smoke seeping into the outside air. They walked up the house steps and quickly entered the kitchen. Loud music played over the speakers, rattling the house. The three find a bottle of SKKY. Mindy picks it up with a mischievous smirk, “Shall we?”

Anika and Tara smile at the girl as they pour each a shot and then another. After three rounds of shots, the girls call it quits.

“We are going to go sit on the couch,” Anika said to Tara as she and Mindy walked toward it with beers in their hands.

Tara waved at them and went to find herself a drink, her throat felt a little scratchy, and she let out a small cough, ‘probably from the vodka,’ she thought.

As she grabbed herself a beverage, a man approached her. “Hey, I haven’t seen you here before,” the man says with a sly smirk.

“Yeah, I’m just here with some friends. I’m Tara, by the way.” Tara slurred out. She was worse off than Mindy and Anika, as she was much smaller than both girls.

The man noticed that Tara was in a drunken state already and decided he would take advantage of that. He shook Tara’s hand, “Hi, I’m Frankie. So, are you a part of the Omega Beta Zeta sorority?” He asked with a cooky smile.

Tara grabbed a beer from the ice bucket and said, “No, but I’m thinking about rushing.”

“Well, if you need any help, I can always put in a good word for you.” Frankie said as he leaned toward Tara and opened the beer bottle for her, “Would you like to come up to my room?”

Tara looked around; she desperately needed to get laid tonight, even if it meant she had to hook up with an asshole. “Fuck it, yeah. Let’s do it,” she said as she downed her beer and followed Frankie toward the stairs.

As they started going up the stairs, someone called out to them, “Hey, Tara, why don’t we call it a night?”

Tara turned her head at the sound of the soft voice; Y/N was standing at the bottom of the stairs. She had an unreadable expression with narrow eyes. Her body was tense, and her fists were clenched. She wore a red sweater with a white Budweiser logo and had a Fanny pack across her torso. Tara almost laughed at how cute she looked.

“No, I think I’m still going to hang out here. You can leave, though,” Tara slurred out. She missed the way hurt flashed across Y/N’s face.

“Tara, you’re good down here; come on,” Y/N tried to reason with the girl. Even though it’s been a couple of weeks since their fight, she still cared for Tara.

Tara was going to respond to Y/N, but Frankie butted in, “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

Y/N ignored Frankie’s attempt to get a rise out of her. She looked at Tara as she spoke, “Tara, please. Let’s go.”

Tara walked down a few stairs, standing closer to you, “No, Y/N, it’s fine. I want to go up with him.”

Frankie walked down too and got close enough to Y/N’s face that she could smell the liquor on his breath, “See Y/N? It’s fine, the girl said she wants to, now fuck off,” he said as he roughly grabbed Tara, practically dragging the girl up the stairs.

“Get your fucking hands off of her,” Y/N stated as she pushed Frankie into the wall. Frankie let go of Tara as he hit the wall. When he turned around, he quickly tackled Y/N off the stairs and onto the floor.

Frankie went to straddle Y/N’s waist, but the girl quickly pulled out a switchblade from her boot, opened it, and held it to his neck, “Fucking try me, I dare you,” she hissed out, her eyes never leaving Frankie.

She pressed hard enough to draw blood, and with that, Frankie quickly pushed himself off the girl. “Fine, you can keep the little shit! It wouldn’t have been good anyways,” he said as his voice began to break before stomping up to his room.

Mindy and Anika reached down toward Y/N and pulled her up. Y/N ignored all the glances and stares sent her way as she moved toward the stairs to check on Tara.

Tara was breathing heavily as she pushed past Y/N and went out the door. Y/N quickly followed Tara, “Hey, Tara. What's going on?” Y/N called out, hoping the girl would slow down.

Tara’s breaths became labored as she approached a tree adjacent to the house. She pressed her back against the tree and slowly slid down to the ground. She clutched at her chest and tried to take deep breaths, but her throat seemed closed. She pulled her legs up into her chest, hoping she would disappear if she could make herself small enough.

Y/N jogged towards Tara and crouched down so she was at eye level with Tara. “Tara, love. What’s wrong?” Y/N asked; her voice quivered with worry. She didn’t know what was wrong with Tara; Y/N knew she wasn’t leaving the girl until she was breathing normally again.

Panic started settling in Tara as she realized she was having an asthma attack. She tried to get the words out, but only short, ragged breaths left her lips.

Y/N noted everything going on with Tara: clutched chest, sucking in breaths, can't breathe. Can’t breathe. Y/N quickly took off her Fanny pack and dug around until she found her own inhaler. Tara’s eyes lit up as she snatched it from Y/N’s hand. She shook it violently before removing the cap and taking a puff.

She waited thirty seconds before taking a second puff to be safe. Once her breathing slowly returned, she noticed Mindy and Anika staring at her worriedly. She also noticed that Y/N had one hand on each of her knees.

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked with such a gentle voice it brought tears to Tara’s eyes. Tara nodded while wiping away her tears with a small smile, “thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome, Tara,” Y/N said as she looked back at Mindy and Anika. The three had a silent conversation, then Y/N turned back to Tara, “Do you want to head back to your place or stay here a little longer?”

Tara looked up at Mindy and Anika. She was afraid that the girls were disappointed in her or angry with her, but she only found worry and concern on their faces. She looked down at Y/N before speaking, “I would like to stay here for a moment; I need to ground myself.”

“Is it alright if I sit beside you?” Y/N asked. She wanted to comfort the girl more but didn't want to overstep. This was the first time they’ve talked since their fight, and Y/N didn’t know where she stood with the girl.

Tara nodded, and Y/N stood up momentarily and sat down next to Tara, resting her back against the tree. “You guys can go. I’m okay to stay here with Y/N,” Tara gently said as she looked up toward the girls.

“Call me if anything happens, both of you,” Anika stated before walking off with Mindy.

Once they left, Tara looked over her right shoulder at Y/N and chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Y/N asked with a light smile and a raised eyebrow.

“Your sweater is ugly,” Tara said with a voice crack. She still had tears in her eyes. They weren’t from her asthma attack but from Y/N seeing her put herself out there for an asshole.

Y/N laughed as she leaned against the tree and looked at Tara, “My sweater is ugly? Yours literally says ‘big gift energy!’’

Tara joined in with laughter and gave Y/N a fist pump. But when it came time for them to pull their hands back, neither moved. Instead, Tara slowly moved her hand and slightly opened it, hoping Y/N would catch on. When Y/N saw what Tara wanted, she opened her hand and intertwined her fingers. She then pulled their laced hands into her lap, causing Tara to rest her head against the taller girl’s shoulder. Y/N ignored the quick picture Anika took of them as she and Mindy walked away.

“You wanna talk about it?” Y/N asked after a few moments of silence. She didn’t know which ‘it’ she was referring to: their fight, Frankie, her asthma attack, or something else. She just knew that they needed to talk.

Tara nodded as she pulled away from Y/N’s shoulder; they both instantly missed the contact. “I have some things I need to say to you,” Tara husked out. Y/N nodded her head, waiting for the girl to go. “You are evil and vain. The first day I met you, I called you Satan and still call you that behind your back. All you are is mean, and a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life, and mean.”

Y/N slightly winced at Tara’s words, “You said ‘mean’ twice.”

“And I meant it twice,” Tara said but gently squeezed Y/N’s hand, showing the girl that she was joking. “I also think you are the most intolerable person ever, but I would love to be the one to tolerate you.”

At that, Y/N’s ears perked up. Her heartbeat quickened as she looked around nervously. It was just her and Tara outside, but she couldn't help but feel eyes on her. Looking back down, she realized Tara was staring at her with yearning. “Tara, come on now. You’re drunk.”

“Nuh-uh,” Tara said as she let go of Y/N’s hand and cupped the girl’s cheeks. Y/N placed her hands on Tara’s wrists, trying to pull them away from her face. “Tara, you’re drunk, and I just helped you avoid making a mistake, let’s not make one out here.”

Tara whined at Y/N’s words and looked up at Y/N. This was the girl who made her life hell on the first day of school and made her have an emotional come apart at the library. But this was also the same girl that saved her from making the biggest mistake of her life, the same girl that helped her with her asthma attack mere moments ago. This Y/N in front of her was the same one who brought her flowers as an apology, and this was the same Y/N who drew pictures all over her papers. This was her Y/N that gave her a drawing of her and her found family. This was her Y/N, who came back to her after she broke her nose. This was her Y/N; no matter how hard Tara tried to push her away, Y/N would never leave her side.

Eyes darting between Y/N’s, Tara leaned up and placed a chaste kiss on Y/N’s lips. Y/N was taken aback but kissed the girl back. Only when Tara went to deepen the kiss did she pull away. “Tara, I won’t kiss you or touch you right now, you’re drunk, and I will not take advantage of that,” Y/N said against Tara’s lips.

“Okay,” Tara replied as she stood up and held out her hand for Y/N. She accepted the hand and stood up. “Will you walk me home?”

“Of course, let’s go,” Y/N replied as she walked with Tara. They didn’t speak the entire walk back to Tara’s apartment, but their minds were running wild with thoughts of the other.

Tara was the first to break the silence when they arrived at the Carpenter apartment, “Thank you, Y/N. I hate to think about where I would be without you right now.”

“You wouldn’t have even been at the party if I didn’t send you the wrong way,” Y/N said with a slightly guilty tone.

Tara thought about Y/N’s words for a moment. If Y/N had actually walked with Tara to class, then she wouldn’t have met Anika right away and formed a friendship. Sure, she would have still seen her, but they might not have been as close as they are now. Tara wouldn’t have punched Y/N in the face, and they also wouldn’t have had their fight in the library. Tara probably would have convinced Y/N to do their chemistry project together and bonded over it. Instead of going out tonight, she might have stayed over at Y/N’s apartment. She would have stayed up with the girl and probably kissed her as she did tonight. It seemed that no matter what roads Tara took, they all led right back to Y/N.

“All roads lead back to you, Y/N,” Tara said with a soft smile and an honest tone. Y/N wanted to kiss the shorter girl but refused to do so as long as the girl had alcohol in her system.

“Goodnight, Tara,” Y/N said as she leaned down and kissed Tara’s forehead, “get some sleep, cara mia.” And with that, Y/N returned home and went to sleep.

The last week before Christmas break had arrived: finals week. On the day of their Chemistry final, Y/N walked in with an ugly gray Christmas sweater with a picture of Julius Caesar in the middle. Above his head were words, “What are you gonna do, stab me?” And underneath his picture was “Julius Caesar 44 B.C.”

Tara let out a small laugh as she read the words, “I might do just that,” she said as Y/N sat down.

“Mhm?” Y/N questioned with an eyebrow raised. It was their first conversation since Tara kissed Y/N, and they both hoped it would go smoothly.

“Your shirt,” Tara said as she motioned towards it. Y/N looked a bit confused, then looked down at her shirt. “Oh, yeah,” she mumbled with a frown. “I kinda deserve it, don’t I?” She asked with a smile, but Tara saw right through it. Y/N was trying to make a joke to cover up the fact that their dynamic had changed.

Tara looked at Y/N, and the two made eye contact. For the first time since they’ve known each other, this was their first time actually seeing each other. Tara saw the frown constantly pulling on Y/N’s lips and how Y/N’s eyes spoke a thousand words for her. Those beautiful eyes that Tara got lost in on her first day were now full of hurt, regret, and love. Hurt: she hurt herself when she made Tara cry; Y/N hurt because she let a small moment of weakness destroy Tara. Regret: wishing she could take back everything she said to Tara, hoping she could start all over again. And love: Y/N wanted to wrap her arms around Tara and never let go; she wanted to protect the smaller girl from all the evil in the world. Y/N would give anything to feel Tara’s lips against hers, even for a fleeting second. She would live and die for the girl.

Y/N saw how Tara rubbed her left hand whenever she was left alone with Y/N as if she was afraid the taller girl would hurt her. She also saw how Tara seemed to please everyone, no matter how hard she had to work to get their approval. Y/N watched Tara push people away who weren’t from her hometown. Her heart broke when Tara looked at her like Y/N was someone who was only interested in her just to break her heart. Y/N had to act like she wouldn’t carve out her own heart to prove her loyalty to Tara.

The two sat in awkward silence until Anika arrived, and even then, it was still awkward silence. Once the final started, Tara would occasionally look over her left shoulder at Y/N and see the woman frantically writing down answers as if she went any slower; the answers would be erased from her mind.

When they completed the test, the three walked out of class, and Y/N placed her hand on Tara’s back. Surprised by the contact, Tara turned around to look at Y/N. She had a guilty expression on her face, something Tara was not used to seeing on the girl. “Can I talk to you?” Y/N softly asked while maintaining eye contact with Tara.

Tara searched Y/N’s eyes for anything dangerous but only found guilt and hurt. “Sure,” Tara gently said. Y/N nodded before leading Tara out of the science wing and into the parking lot.

“Where are we going, Y/N?” Tara questioned as she followed closely behind Y/N. Snow had started to fall, and Tara was more than ready to begin her Christmas break.

“Just a little further; I need to get something from my car,” Y/N replied as she faced Tara. “Don’t worry. I promise I won’t try and kill you.”

Tara didn’t find the joke funny but followed the girl nonetheless. When they reached Y/N’s car, the girl walked over to her passenger side door and opened it. She pulled out a large gift bag with the words ‘happy birthday.’ Tara went to see what was in the bag, but Y/N’s hand gently grabbed hers, stopping her. “Don’t look at it just yet. Wait until you get home. Please.” Y/N pleaded with gentle eyes and a soft smile.

Tara had a confused look as she asked, “Okay? Why do I have to wait?”

“So you don’t hate me,” Y/N replied with a smile.

“Why would I hate you?”

Y/N let out a small laugh before she replied, “Well, so you don’t hate me more than you already do.”

Tara’s heart dropped the girl’s words. All Tara wanted to do was tell Y/N that she could never hate her, not anymore. The girl has seen her at her worst but still decided to stick around. “I could never hate you, Y/N. Sometimes I want to kill you, though,” Tara said with a smile as she looked up at Y/N.

The taller girl gave Tara a soft smile as she cleared her throat, “Would it be alright with you if I walked you home?”

Tara didn’t respond; she switched the bag to her left hand and reached for Y/N’s with her right. She smiled at the girl’s hand before intertwining their fingers as they returned to Tara’s apartment.

The two walked back in silence, enjoying each other’s company. Y/N broke the silence, “So, what do you like to do?”

The air around them quickly filled with laughter. “There is no way you are trying to small talk me right now,” Tara asked between laughs while squeezing Y/N’s hand.

“Don’t judge me. I would like to know you on a more personal level. I hate the one I’m at right now,” Y/N said with a shrug of her shoulders, “But only if you want to know each other better.”

Tara bumped into Y/N’s side as she laughed at the taller girl’s words, “I would also like to know you more personally, Y/N. So then, what’s your favorite color?”

Both girls laughed at Tara’s question, but Y/N responded. The two talked about their interests and hobbies and shared a love for horror movies. Y/N never asked Tara about the scar on her hand, afraid that it would ruin whatever they were giving a chance. Tara never mentioned the kiss they shared; she was terrified it might push Y/N away if she told the girl she wasn’t that wasted and could still taste her lips.

When they arrived at Tara’s building, Y/N followed the girl to her apartment. “Follow me. I have something to give you,” Tara said as she pulled Y/N by her hand. Y/N smiled as she followed Tara mindlessly up to her apartment. She said nothing as Tara unlocked the apartment door and told Y/N to follow her inside.

The apartment was cozy, and it reminded Y/N a lot of her apartment with Anika. She followed Tara into her room. She watched Tara place her gift bag on her bed before she shuffled around in her closet and pulled out a small box wrapped in Christmas paper. “Here, this is for you. Wait until you get home to open it, though,” Tara said with a smile as she handed Y/N the box.

“Okay?” Y/N said as she accepted the small box; it was relatively light, and some moved inside when she shook it.

“Don’t shake it, you barbarian!” Tara said as she led Y/N back to the entrance of her apartment.

“Is it a bomb? I feel like that’s something you would do,” Y/N asked when she was just outside the doorway. Tara smiled as she leaned against the door frame, “Not telling.”

Y/N gave Tara a cheeky grin as she started to pull on the wrapping paper. Tara’s hand latched onto Y/N’s as she hissed out, “Not here, Y/N! Wait until you get home!”

When Tara’s hand landed on her own, Y/N felt her entire body heat up and could not contain the smile across her face. When she looked at Tara, she also had a giant smile plastered on her face. Tara’s eyes never left Y/N’s, while the taller girl’s eyes drifted down to Tara’s lips. The smaller girl caught this and decided to retake the extra step.

She slowly reached up with her left hand and cupped Y/N’s cheek, giving the taller girl time to pull away. When Y/N didn’t, Tara stood on her tippy toes and kissed the corner of Y/N’s mouth. Y/N’s cheeks instantly warmed as she grabbed Tara’s waist, she wanted to kiss the girl for real, but she didn’t want to rush anything. She wanted to know Tara before anything romantic happened between them. And Y/N could tell Tara wanted the same thing by how she looked up at her. They would both wait a thousand lifetimes for each other.

When they pulled apart from each other, they both had love in their eyes. “Okay?” Y/N asked as she started to move away from Tara.

“Okay,” Tara replied, waving at Y/N from her door. She watched Y/N round the corner and disappear.

Tara shut the door to the apartment with a smile, but it dropped as soon as she turned around. “Jesus Christ, Sam! You can’t just sneak up on me like that. You almost gave me a heart attack,” Tara exclaimed as she clutched her chest.

Sam just laughed as she followed Tara into her room. She noticed the bag on Tara’s bed and the giant smile that refused to leave her face. “So, was that her?” Sam asked with a sly smile.

“Who?” Tara questioned as she took off her shoes and sat on her bed. She was dying to open her present, but she was afraid that it might be something she didn’t want Sam to see.

“The devil you ran into on your first day.”

“Oh, yeah. That was her,” Tara said while looking down at her feet and playing with her fingers. “Wait, how’d you know?”

Sam smiled as she started to leave Tara’s room. “Because you have that glint in your eyes right now, just like you did when you first talked about her,” Sam said as she sent Tara a soft smile before leaving her room and shutting the door.

Tara groaned as she picked up the gift bag. Her curiosity couldn’t contain itself; she reached in, her face became beet red, and her heart rattled against her rib cage as she pulled out a picture.

It was a picture of her and Y/N leaning up against the tree just before Tara kissed her. They were both smiling in the picture while holding hands. Tara was looking down at their hands while Y/N was looking at Tara. She could see how Y/N’s eyes spoke for her, and she saw the love in Y/N's eyes. Tara flipped the card over and let out a small gasp.

In blue ink were the words, ‘I am sorry for how things started between us. I am sorry for the things that I have said to you; I should have treated you better. You deserve better than me, but if you would give me a chance, I would like to make it up to you. If you don’t want to, I completely understand and will respect that. But if you want to, you can text me whenever you like.

Your devil,

Y/N

XXX-XXX-XXXX’

Tara smiled as she finished reading the words. She checked to see if anything else was in the bag. She pulled out some tissue paper and found a stuffed bear. The bear had tan fur with black boxers and tiny hearts on them. The bear had on red devil horns with a red cape while holding a red trident. Tara grabbed her phone and went to send Y/N a picture of it to thank her, but she found that Y/N had already texted her with a photo.

The picture was of Y/N holding up a reversible angel+devil plushie, but with the devil side showing. The plushie had a frown with furrowed eyebrows, and Y/N was making the same face. The text said, “Thank you for the gift, Tara. I also appreciated the note you gave me that had handwritten lyrics to ‘Mean’ followed by your number that said ‘I would really like it if you texted me-or not. I don’t care,’ It kinda sends a mixed message, but I loved it either way. Happy belated birthday, Tara.”

Tara smiled at the words before replying, “I expect the devil side always to be showing <3”. She then turned off her phone and slept with her devil in her arms.

dk if it’s a hot take or not but the script of miller’s girl is complete ass

literally some pedophile fetish nonsense with nothing adequate to tell

what even is the point of it as a work of fiction? what is it trying to say? it has no coherent idea behind it and it’s not even fun. like at all

wow a manipulative girl who writes wattpad porn wow an older man who’s her teacher wow a girl on girl make out scene where one of them takes a picture to send to a MAN

gagging what the fuck is this

QUE HOMEM LINDO MEU DEUS!!!!

Tom Hiddleston in The Essex Serpent (2022) (S01E05 - S01E06)

she's made for the girls!

M A S T E R L I S T

Sam Carpenter

Off the deep end Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Jealousy

First time mom Sam headcanons

Sam with taller Reader

Sam with Prescott!Reader

NSFW drabble

NSFW drabble 2

Tara Carpenter

🎥 girl Part 2 Headcanons

Angel

Infidelity drabble

Dookie the Matchmaker drabble

Pillow princess Tara headcanons

Amber Freeman

Infidelity drabble

Avengers

Owned Part 2 Part 3

N.R. x W.M. x C.D. x f!reader

Perks of the job Part 2

WandaNat

Professional help

Natasha Romanoff

Patience is a virtue

A friend in need is a friend indeed

Heaven in hiding

Wanda Maximoff

Let the world burn

Used

Wednesday Addams

Wisdom teeth

Little death

Jenna Ortega

Just to be clear

Scarlett Johansson

All the things she said