I Think The Old C.ai Was Much Better Than The New One

La Parca | Adult!Wednesday x Reader (Couple of Cards AU)

It was kill or be killed. The role of God now laid in your mortal hands, its burden weighing your shoulders down and leaving a permanent print on you that Wednesday did not expect you to gain.

Summary: Reader has taken a life for the first time, by her own hands. Wednesday unexpectedly has to deal with this grief that plagues her partner. Warnings: Non-smut. Hurt/Comfort?? besides that nothing i think. Words: 2.2k AU Concept: Reader and Wednesday are a duo of detectives (More of that here) ⓘ This is a work of fiction and belongs to my on-going AU.

A life dripped from your hands.

Dirty, muddy blood soaked your palm with the weight of despair on it. You could feel it seep through your skin and stain your bones a vibrant red of shame. The smell of it reeked of putrid death that you were never fully used to, no matter how many gruesome cases you took with Wednesday but those cases were different. The dead, decomposed bodies you saw were nothing compared to what you did this hellish night. They were dead by someone else’s hand, the harrowing experience of taking a life not a burden on your shoulders but theirs. 

The dimly lit room had shadows and darkness dense with murmuring accusations, your heart thumping madly in exclamation for what you were witnessing. You were alone, alone with a body, yet you could feel the imaginary wrath of a village descend upon you. The pale moon, ever gorgeous, bathed you and your hands in silver, but could not tamper with the vibrant red glow of blood. The cacophony of whispers and murmurs drilled your ears with a shrill sound that only exponentially grew louder, until it abruptly stopped.

Reality had dawned on you, that moment of lunacy slipped past your fingers. You had taken a life. You took a life in exchange for your partners, for the innocent citizens frightened by the darkness of the night, but it was a life nonetheless. 

A bodyless limb, stitched up yet soft to the touch, crawled from your back and stationed on your shoulder. Observing (somehow) that you were frozen completely, watching the blood pool around the serial killer that made the town tremble with fear. His blood gleamed with the way the moon lit it, you could see it drip over the tiny cracks of the wooden floor, you could hear it drip down below whatever was under the floorboard. Thing tapped your shoulder, but you could not move. It was not the wounds the killer had inflicted upon you, but the shock.

Blood gushed down your arm by the slash wound on your forearm, a direct result from the conflict, and your thigh numbed away at the makeshift tourniquet stopping the flow of your stab wound. A limp wouldn’t stop you from walking out and calling your partner to alert her of what had just happened, and it never deterred you from venturing down the basements and up the attics of these maniacs – who usually held people hostage. 

But tonight, you were frozen in place like a zombie, willing to bleed away along with the man who you rightfully had to kill. Not in your right mind, at all.

Thing was crawled back down your back and did the smart thing he did. Texting Wednesday and sending her an SOS along with an address, and ringing the police.

The ramshackled cabin in the middle of nowhere was the hideout of the monster, and Wednesday was, unsurprisingly, first on the scene. Hurried steps soon slowed down to a full, inaudible stop when her dark eyes peered at the scene before her, watching you intently and wondering if… you were at all okay. 

She glanced over the dead body and thought, tactfully to herself, that she wished to be the one to have taken his life but she would be content by merely watching him bleed away pathetically like this. However, that sweet, juicy nectar of justice swiftly served had the bitter after taste of you, unable to understand the strange feeling that overwhelmed your body.

Words unspoken, feelings understood, Wednesday left you there to process it as she got to work with examining the rest of the cabin. In your field of vision, stationary and unmoving, black miasma threatened to overtake all until the red and blue lights flashed and shunned that wafting darkness away. Another dose of reality, your ears starting to hear the moving world around you again. Sharp, anxiety-inducing sirens blared from the distance and you…

You had just killed a man.

The gratitude of the public soothed you little and even worse, the headlines dedicated to you and your heroic service to the community did not make you feel like a hero. You felt conflicted, like you were never to be forgiven. A blur of shapes and jumbled words were all that you recalled from that moment Wednesday turned you around to tell you the cops were about to arrive at the scene.

“You need to pull yourself together,” Wednesday firmly said, her usual commandeering voice offering little help in your composure.

Then, it was a mixture of blankness and a painting too destroyed to make a concise deduction of. As if someone had grabbed a thick brush filled to the nth with white, watery paint and smeared it all over your memories.

But you do remember something. Wednesday had guided you in your stupor back out of the police station once the questioning was finished, ushering you into her car and taking you not to your home – as warm and comforting as it may have been. Instead, the car traversed through the beaten path towards her home. The sight of that mansion, usually so big and cold, felt strangely comforting, less macabre than it usually is.

Wednesday’s fondness for you went unseen when you laid in a coma, but now you were conscious and observing the way she took care of you in your stupor. Not with an ounce of malice or annoyance, but preoccupied for you. The crease in her eyebrows was a tell that you had never seen stay in her face for more than a second, but now it seemed to permanently stay painted in her features no matter how much she tried to undo it. She washed you, this time with your willingness, quietly and thoroughly. Was the smell of blood perhaps beginning to annoy her? You could not know.

With soft instructions to get dressed, you attempted to but found it difficult. Your injuries, now tended and protected, still sent tentacles of pain all across your body – a simple move igniting a concerning amount of pain that made you wonder if the stitches would pop back out. But you wished to struggle alone for a while, until Wednesday walked into the guest bedroom to observe you trying. Her hand placed on your sane arm stopped you from moving further. Those dark hues suddenly felt soft to look at, compassionate, but still firm in a strange way. Wednesday helped you get your clothes on carefully with no remarks or tease, comfortable to touch you and to see you in this state. One would think she would relish in your pain, even if just a smidge, but she did not.

The cherry oak wooden table stretched comically from one end to the other. A table that would be surely used to host a big bouquet of many dishes and even more guests. You had plopped down to eat something quietly, solemnly chewing away flavorful food that, to you, suddenly all tasted bitter. Wednesday quietly stalked into your field of vision, emerging from the dark corner of your eyes with a plate of her own and sharp silverware to match. She placed her plate down, pulled her chair and sat right next to you. Out of all the places to sit, out of all the things to do, she tacitly chooses to sit by you during your lunch time. The sound of birds chirping away the warm mid-day were the only things accompanying the sound of forks and knives scraping the fine ceramic plates. The occasional creak of the old cherry oak being the only exciting occurrence at that moment.

Words were seldom used between the two of you that early morning. The two of you co-existed orbiting around each other yet never addressing one another beyond glances. A look that told you that Wednesday would wash your dishes, countered by a look that insisted on at least helping her dry the plates. A look that told you that Wednesday was going to the library to read and write was countered by a mere nod and a saddened smile that wished her endeavors to turn out fun. 

The eerie quietness of it all stretched to every inch of the mansion, like tragedy had struck not just you, but Wednesday as well.

Now lying quietly and unmoving on that big bed, with Wednesday so grimly lying next to you in that distinctive position of hers, words started to pile up in your gut. Total pandemonium within you, demanding to be let out and spoken, to be set adrift in the cold air of the mansion. To appease that annoyance, you finally opened your mouth.

A hoarse voice that you didn’t expect talked on your behalf, like it was crusted by the stillness for such a long hour. Or perhaps it was your mental state manifesting in your body, transforming it and changing it. Just like you felt after that harrowing night.

“I don’t feel…” a pondering pause, hearing Wednesday shift on her side to look at you. “Normal.”

Wednesday stared at you with an unflinching stare for a moment. “You did the world a favor, he was a monster.”

A deep breath in, then a hesitant, frightened glance at her. Her expression of neutrality softened to one of care, once again.

“I took a life, Wednesday,” you were concise, feeling the burden of what happened slowly feel lighter as you said those words. Your cross all the more bearable to carry. “I didn’t enjoy that.”

Wednesday knew that you were a normie, but your strong will and resilience put you over many of the ‘normies’. And yet, she had contemplated that occasion where she would be met with a situation to make any normie squirm, something that would click in you that would – in her own words – pose to be a problem in your partnership. What she thought would happen was that one day you would cower away from her interrogation methods, that you would realize just how macabre she could get, or that maybe you would be forced to look at one too many dead bodies to stomach.

But you pulled through in all of those situations. Not without your disagreements and negotiations, but you got there with her and stuck through her.

Never in her life, not even with her gift, could she envision that this would be the thing to break you. Justice sometimes could be served by your own hands and in some occasions it is the only way to serve justice. A fight to the death, a fight for survival or maybe a wicked game of Russian Roulette where a psychopath would willingly take his own life only if it meant you would risk yours. This was your first time taking a life, your first time having to choose when someone died. Wednesday understood this predicament you were in, but could not word any comforting words. 

She, too, was grieving. Not because she did not have the chance to get rid of a serial killer with her own hands, but because you had to do it to save yourself and create this despair in yourself. Above all, she felt upset that you felt as bad as you did. There was an ounce of annoyance within herself at the revelation. After all, Wednesday was seldom protective of people, but you were her partner. You were the one who comforted her in those weak moments that she rarely had; you were the woman that gave her so much, someone that held strong for her and did not hold those feeble moments over her head mockingly ever. You were her woman.

Quid pro quo.

Wednesday did not know how to comfort you, but she would dare to try it. Shifting, she pulled her body closer to you and carefully grabbed your unharmed arm and moved it. It surprised you a bit, but she willingly snuggled up to you, head on your chest and draping your arm around her. It was something new, but very sweet that she would do it. And you knew why she was doing this, as well. A small smile tugged your lips, honest, even if it remained there for a short moment. Summoning all the strength you had in you, you hugged her, squeezing her to you and relishing in the comfort of closeness.

Words were accessories to the two of you. Sometimes needed to compliment each other, sometimes required to bring it all together smoothly. But at this point in your partnership, words sometimes could be left to hang loosely next to the coats. Tonight was a mixture of both.

You understood Wednesday’s attempt at comfort and welcomed it; Wednesday understood that taking a life was not easy for someone like you to do. Yet, you found solace in being able to freely speak of something that had bothered you so deeply.

“It changes everything,” you softly let out, knowing it was the only way you could explain it.

“Maybe for the best,” Wednesday quietly retorted.

That thought had not crossed your mind. It didn’t erase the grief, but it made it easier to digest. Sometimes, it was a sacrifice that needed to be made for something better. A sacrifice you were willing to make.

You held Wednesday tighter and allowed yourself to indulge in a soft kiss to her head. An affectionate gesture that meant so much. It was a ‘Thank you’, it was a ‘I understand’, and it was – above all else – something that words could not hope to measure.

Today was just today.

-ℙ𝕦𝕝𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕦𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕤-

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

——————————

pairings - jennaortega x fem!reader

summary - sweet moment with your favorite girl

warnings - none

an - missed writing for my Rechazame series, so i wanted to bring back our ever favorite personal assistant R

——————————

You groaned, throwing an arm over your face to shield your eyes from the bright sun. 

It was an early morning, birds chirping and dogs barking as the world began to wake up. Thankfully it was Saturday, which meant you didn’t have work and could sleep in as long as you want. 

You rolled onto your side, blinding reaching around in front of you to find the warmth of your girlfriend, only to be met with the dip of a mattress and cold sheets. 

You peeled your eyes open, squinting to see around the sun-filled room. Everything looked normal, bookshelf filled with a multitude of literature, closet open and presenting the pale arrangement of clothes you and your girlfriend owned, and the bathroom door wide open, the sound of someone humming a small tune sneaking out. 

Your body moved, arms pushing you up and out of bed. Once your feet hit the floor, you closed your eyes and took a big stretch, sighing when your back popped pleasently. After you cracked your neck, you moved towards the bathroom in just your boxers and a sports bra, and you were greeted with the smell of vanilla and coconut bodywash wafting through the open door. 

On the edge of the bathtub your girlfriend sat, facing away from you as she shaved her legs. The room was warm and a tad bit humid, clear signs of Jenna taking her routine shower that she does almost every morning. The light from the sun was creating a golden hue on her skin, her features seeming to glow from your perspective.

She wore a white t-shirt, black shorts, and her signature black headphones, nodding her head along to whatever song that was playing in her ears. You stood for a moment, taking in the fact that you could admire here without her knowing. 

After a few more seconds of silent ogling, you moved towards the sink, grabbing your toothbrush and toothpaste to start your day. You scrubbed away the grime and bad breath, rinsing your mouth with a cup of sink water before gurgling it and spitting it out into the basin. 

You glanced towards Jenna, noticing that she still hasn’t turned around or noticed you yet, so with a small smirk of deviancy on your face, you reached and took her jaw in your fingers. She jumped at your touch, brown eyes looking up just in time to catch you leaning in to press your lips to her cheek. 

You kissed her warm skin, inhaling her bodywash with a pleasant sigh. She smelled sweet, and just like how she always smells like. A small giggle escapes her mouth at the feeling of your breath on her skin, causing you to smile. You pulled away, gently caressing her shoulder with your hand as a silent ‘hello’ before you left the bathroom and headed for your closet. 

Not sure of what to wear, you decided on some grey sweats and a plain white tank top. You easily threw each garment on, and was now reaching up to grab some slippers from the top shelf. Unnoticed by you, Jenna walked in and slid under your outstretched arms, wrapping her arms around your waist to gain your attention.

You looked down, catching her looking at you fondly before she stood up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to yours. You responded immediately, hands dropping down to cup her face. Your thumbs rubbed on her soft skin, pulling her closer and letting yourself melt into her hold. She tasted delicious, her cherry chapstick soothing your own dry lips from just waking up. 

“G’mornin’.” You mumbled, giving her lips and forehead a peck before reaching up for the slippers, “Did you sleep well?”

“Mhm, I did.” She replied, letting go of your waist so she could take her slippers from you, “Did you?”

“Yeah, I think I fell asleep on top of you.” You said, sliding the comfy shoes on your feet.

“You did, we never finished that movie because of it.” Jenna giggled, sliding to stand in between your open knees, “It’s fine though, I got to cuddle you.”

You snorted, leaning back up to meet her eyes. She was already staring at you, her hands coming up to cup your cheeks. You leaned into her palm with a sigh, letting your eyes close at the feeling of her soft touch. She cooed at you, choosing to thread her fingers into your hair to detangle its morning mess. 

Her nails scratched at your scalp, massaging and relaxing you quite quickly. She expertly removed all the knots from your hair, knowing the tricks on detangling your fluffy locks. Once she finished, you wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her in to you.

Your face buried in her stomach, practically purring at the warmth she provided. She cradled your head, leaning down to kiss your ruffled hair. You sighed in contentment, happy that she was here and holding you.

“Do you want breakfast?” You asked, leaning your head back to look at her, “I can make you something.”

She mumbled a ‘yes please’ but didn’t let go of you, instead pulling herself into your lap so she could rest her head on your shoulder.

“Baby, you gotta let me go so I can go cook.” You chuckled, holding her thighs.

“No.” She said, burrowing herself further into your shirt.

You smiled, patting her butt lightly before standing up with her in your arms. She wrapped her legs around your waist, tightening her hold on your neck before you took a step. Your hands slid under her thighs, giving her some extra support to hang onto you while you walked to the kitchen.

“Okay beautiful.” You said, setting her down on the counter, “What do you want to eat?”

“Pancakes.” Jenna stated, swinging her feet while she stared at you lovingly.

“Pancakes.” You repeated, leaning in to give her a quick kiss before getting to work on making the requested dish.

You moved swiftly, pulling all the ingredients together and creating the batter in less than ten minutes. Soon, the pancakes were cooked and crisped to perfection, looking quite fluffy on the plate when you handed to Jenna.

“For the girl that looks so gorgeous on this fine evening.” You said cheekily, sliding the plate towards her and leaning in to nuzzle her cheek with your nose.

She laughed, taking the plate whilst blushing heavily. Carefully, she stabbed it with her fork and ate a piece, sighing in satisfaction at the sweet taste on her tongue.

“It’s delicious baby.” She praised, taking another bite, “So yummy.”

You internally high-fived yourself for being such a damn good cook for your girlfriend. She always loved what you created in the kitchen, and you loved having the label of the masc bisexual housewife; it just felt right to you.

“Here, eat.” Jenna said, holding up her fork to you.

You complied, opening your mouth so she could feed you. The pancake was perfect, fluffy and sweet with just the right amount of chocolate chips.

You really outdid yourself.

“Mmmm.” You nodded, happy with the salivating taste, “That’s good.”

“It’s cause my beautiful girl made it.” Jenna cooed, reaching out to pinch your cheeks.

You flushed red, shaking your head at her comment. She just laughed at you, hiding her smile with her hand while she did. You grinned, pressing a kiss to her cheek before leaving little pecks all over her face. It felt perfect, just you and her giggling as the sun rose on your love.

Just how Jenna wanted it to be.

———————

taglist: @cartierdreamx@tundra1029@red1culous@vorsdany@andsoigotabutterfly@theafterofnevermore@yomomisgay@house-of-lovin@slvt4lanadelrey@thenextdawn@nepobaby08@dunohilly@somekindofpoet@alexkolax@cinffy23@pedrosprincess@amberfreemansburntface@myfturn

Reblog if you're gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, asexual, transgender or a supporter.

This should be reblogged by everyone. Even if you’re straight, you should be a supporter.

My Masterlist

Vada Cavell:

Playing With Her Hair

Lemonade

Tara Carpenter:

Stars Around My Scars

We're Gonna Make It Work

Jenna Ortega Herself:

AN AMERICANO PLEASE SERIES:

Part 5

Part 4

Part 3

Part 2

Part 1

Wednesday Addams:

This is Stupid (Don't Stop)

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

A Night of Eros (Adult!Wednesday x Fem!Reader)

A continuation of "The Master & The Pet", which you may read here.

Wednesday wrapped her tie around your neck and started to tie it with dexterous fingers. The pitch black design bore a striking resemblance to something else and it aroused you to even think of it. Cheekily, you questioned: “A gift for me?” Then she tightened it with one clean move and pulled it, drawing your head closer to her. “Your leash.”

Summary: Several weeks have passed since you saw that little ‘Thank you’ note stuck on your bedroom door. Work began again as usual between you and Wednesday, but there was a new normal on the horizon when she confidently required your service again. Warnings: Adult!Wednesday, Power Bottom!Wednesday x Service Top!Reader, Strap-on sex, some Master/Pet dynamics, Dirty Talking, vague degradation? LONG, explicit smut. Words: 9k AU Concept: Reader and Wednesday are a duo of dectectives (More of that here) ⓘ This is a work of fiction and belongs to my on-going AU. If you try this at home, that is at your discretion.

The grandfather clock ticked away in Wednesday’s gothic dream of a library. Dark red walls that stretched to a big ceiling, filled with fine literature that you were certain Wednesday had read over at least once. The architecture of her mansion was a sight to behold, even if you’ve been seated in this very place over hundreds of times in the past. 

Never in this weather, however, with the rumbling roars of the distant thunder foreshadowing more of this already tempestuous storm to come; the howling winds that whistled away and the sound of raindrops muffled only by the strong walls and the crispy, old sound of one of Wednesday’s favorite record playing in the lobby, the sound reverbing and bouncing off to the large library. Accompanied then by the exquisite sounds of a live fireplace with crackling fire. A morbid romantic scene painted with the finest of brushes.

Once again, Wednesday was on top of you. What else was new with the two of you.

But this time, the energy in the air was different, charged with a different kind of tension that the two of you have grown accustomed to. The atmosphere was less frantic, experimental and unsure, leaning more towards secure, calculated and passionate.

Unattended notes and books laid in Wednesday’s desk, notes half written and deductions half deduced – standing idle, a mystery remained unsolved while Wednesday indulged into something she had avoided addressing for long enough. Across from her desk was your own little desk, on it laid an envelope filled with documents ready for you to examine them. 

A manila folder barely touched, for when you arrived at Wednesday’s mansion and reached the library, she had pushed aside her documents and walked over to you before you could even glance at them. 

But let us not get too ahead of ourselves. Let us start from the beginning.

Wednesday expected you, since she called you herself to talk about a new potential case, but at this dark hour and under this weather, Wednesday had been waiting for more time than she expected. Bad weather, bad traffic, the whole works, but when you finally appeared, her mind was no longer thinking about the case. Instead, her mind and eyes wandered at your figure as you walked into the library. 

Wet leather gloves in hand, drying the light sprinkles of rain away from your face, dressed in the usual red sweater with black trousers. The common look you often had, but something that Wednesday found herself fond of a little more than before, quietly observing with her proper and unmoving posture. Already eternally bored with a case she knew was open and shut, she decided to indulge in something else for the evening. Besides, it was already too late to go out and do anything fun besides theorizing. 

Instead of greeting you with any reprimand or anything, Wednesday stopped right in front of you, looking up at you with those sharp, round eyes. The void of her black eyes was glistening, with the reflection of the fireplace’s fire. You stopped when she stopped, in total silence before you spoke out.

“Everything okay, Wens?” Your voice was soft as if to avoid disturbing the atmosphere Wednesday had curated for her library, a hand reaching to pull and look at your sweater, seeing if it was damp anywhere.

“You are going to catch a cold,” she said directly, a furrowed brow of concern ever so present. “Did not know how unruly the weather was when I told Thing to text you.” There was a missing apology in there somewhere, but the concern for your well being was read in between the fine lines.

You laughed a little, placing the gloves on the desk and looking at the damp spot in your shirt. “I don’t mind, Wens,” you reassured her. “Anything for the thrill of a good mystery,” you smiled big.

“Unfortunately, I have looked into the case and it seems very standard,” Wednesday looked down at you briefly, already hinting at something that you could understand. She looked back up at you and continued speaking. “You can still look it over and tell me your opinion.”

You eyed the envelope in your desk, tempted to have a look and see why her assessment was such. It was not uncommon for you and Wednesday to look over a fresh case together and decide, unanimously, that this was a piece of cake. And therefore, a very boring case. Yet, you could always have a look and see if Wednesday missed something in the rare chance she may have judged too quickly.

But she interjected with a quick statement. “I recommend you dry that up before you get sick,” she breathed in, tugging at your sweater as her eyes scanned it. A subtle move that was rather simple from Wednesday, who often didn’t touch. “I do not want a sick partner to drag around, it’ll only slow me down.”

A conflictive statement that did not match her eyes or touch, but something quintessentially Wednesday that brought a soft smile out of you. You gave in, however, pulling away from her space and walking towards your desk.

“Did you not hear me–.”

“I heard you,” you said loosely, cutting Wednesday off and peering into her glare. A glare not too strong, so you gave her a small smile. The curiosity of the case had gripped you already, and it made you wonder why Wednesday thought this was open and shut, so you really did not care to dry up. 

The prospect of Wednesday constantly poke and prod about how you will get sick of pneumonia and die (as per her usual humor) was not as tantalizing as the mystery so you decided to reach a good middle ground. You took your sweater off, grabbing the manila folder and taking a look at it. You did not notice the quick expression of shock on Wednesday’s face. If you could call that shock at any capacity. It was more of a ‘nanosecond of wide-eyes’ before she drifted to her usual composure, her neutral face not betraying something brewing inside of her. Something that burned hotter than the fireplace. Suddenly, she pulled her tie to loosen it a bit, feeling a tad suffocated.

Your eyebrows were knitted in focus, walking over to the fireplace. “Missing persons case or murder?” You said, sitting down near it and sprawling your sweater on the floor for it to dry up alongside you. 

Wednesday breathed in deeply and began to walk over to where you were, arms crossed under her bust. “It’s no Black Dahlia, which I must admit has me heartbreakingly disappointed.”

You gave it a quick read, skimming through it. Missing persons for over five years, all the leads recorded were from directly after the case began, the works. You looked up from the sea of formal words to find Wednesday standing over your sweater with a head tilted. “Something the matter, Ms. Addams?” You questioned while you continued to read over, only half-paying attention to it.

“You could have simply laid here with your sweater on to dry up,” Wednesday sounded firm, as always having an air of superiority to her tone. “You did not need to be naked.”

“I’m not naked, for one,” you nearly mumbled out as you flipped over a paper. “Secondly, it’s not like you didn’t see me naked before.”

“I did not,” Wednesday piped up immediately and then silence befell upon the two of you.

A connected gaze that spoke a lot louder than what I could do here, but I dare to try anyways. It was a look of intensity, a mixture of curiosity, passion, almost indignation, but so devoid of malice that it was surprising. Only when you peeled your gaze away from those dark eyes did you notice that one of her fists was… clenched, like holding onto something imaginary for dear life. Wednesday had no tells when it came to lying, deceiving, playing Poker or anything, but she had a tell for that little ‘weakness’ of hers.

“When I was out for the count in the hospital, yeah you did,” you chuckled, closing the folder. “So, I don’t see why you’re uncomfortable.”

“Nevermind that,” Wednesday took a deep breath in and replied. “I am not uncomfortable, I just questioned your audacious choice to disrobe in front of me.”

Then you squinted, pointing at her with a smile. “Did you just… implicitly confess that you’ve seen me naked?” 

Silence, filled with suspense. A silence that Wednesday utilized for many occasions, but never to admit guilt. Yet, here she was.

You had a cheeky smirk on your face that you couldn’t erase, much to Wednesday’s chagrin. “So what was said is true, you bathed me while I was out?”

Perhaps what happened next was a bit abrupt and slightly unbecoming of someone like Wednesday, but it was not uncommon to you who knew her in the most peculiar of phases.

She took a long stride to where you were seated and, with her feet planted firmly on your shoulder, shoved you down to lay on the floor, back against that comfort rug. Rather than painful, that was kind of fun, it had you unexpectedly chuckling. That 5’0” menacing figure stood over you with furrowed brows and an impassive face as she began her questioning: “The nurse yapped, didn’t she?”

“I never said it was a nurse,” you raised an eyebrow. “You said that yourself.”

Now the two of you were at an impassé, and Wednesday knew not how to feel.

With a sigh, you decided to be honest now that you had a heeled boot pressing against you. Thank god she only used heels on very rare occasions, otherwise you truly wouldn’t be so chill. “I thought that was really nice. Taking care of your partner like that,” you paused for a moment, looking up to her eyes and seeing them soften a tad. “I liked that.”

“It was incredibly creepy and invasive,” Wednesday admitted and you couldn’t believe that there may have been a small ounce of guilt over that as it slipped her lips. Very unlike the terrifying Wednesday, but you understood why.

“Yeah, I think that’s what I like about it,” you finished. But the thought in your head added ‘Only because it’s you’ for you truly would never trust anyone else to help you. Seeing the vague guilt knitted in her eyebrows dissipate in a pleasant surprise, you added something else, however. “I think you liked it, too.”

And unlike last time many weeks ago, Wednesday couldn’t hide her blushing cheeks and that evil smirk of hers behind the curtain of darkness. That must have ringed some semblance of truth, for it deterred Wednesday from digging her boot deeper into your skin. But she did swiftly move to straddle your hips, leaning down with her hands on either side of your head. Eyes connected, words unspoken for that brief moment she drew closer. The atmosphere had changed instantly. 

“I did like it, I enjoyed watching your helpless naked body,” Wednesday growled.

And under any normal circumstances, you would be creeped out, but now you were just turned on. Most importantly, you noted that sudden confidence in Wednesday, a contrast to that one night that seemed so far in the past now. “Oh yeah? I bet you couldn’t stop looking at me.”

“I was so afraid,” she huskily said, leaning in closer. Nose to nose, her hot breath tickling just right. “That you would slip away from me before I could play with you, my little pet.”

Out of pure curiosity, you questioned. “Is that why you took the time to bathe me?”

Wednesday’s eyes bore into yours, but quickly traveled down to your lips, as if she yearned for them. Her response came later. “I trusted no one to touch you. I took matters into my own hands.”

Now you didn’t know if it was merely dirty talking, a playful possessiveness, or if it was the truth she harbored deep within. Maybe it was all of the above, with one having less chances of happening than the other. Regardless, it was tense.

Tension, tension, tension; so palpable and warm that you no longer felt the effects of the cold wind from the weather in your bones. Wednesday has gotten quite good at this dirty talking thing, so morbid yet enticing to you. Your hands instinctively reached to caress her thighs, but she grabbed them both and pinned them down above your head. 

“You don’t get to touch your Master,” she growled almost, leaning in and stopping short with your lips and hers only inches away from one another. “Not until I say so.”

You could almost lean in, tempted so much to touch her lips and feel that comfort. But you kept that desire to yourself, compliant like a good pet. “Yes, master,” you lowly said. 

Now, Wednesday had no idea how to subtly express her desire for more. At least not yet anyways. Unable to even insinuate it through dirty talk, her creativity limited only to murder and grotesque scenes in her ‘usual’ state. So she just decided to say it matter-of-factly like she tended to do. “I will experiment with you, my pet,” straight to the point, yet she was never exactly naming the act itself – neither by its more clinical and boring name, nor the more audacious and salacious one. Hiding her lack of experience and confidence well, she proceeded. “We explored some of what I liked, yet master hardly indulged further,” her hands left your wrists, reaching to start undoing her tie. “I would like to do that tonight, before you think of reading over that boring case. Understood?”

You licked your lips, fighting the urge to touch her. “You’ve been working on your dirty talk, that’s good,” and just as you finished that sentence, Wednesday wrapped her tie around your neck and started to tie it with dexterous fingers. The smooth silkiness, the pitch black design bore a striking resemblance to something else and it aroused you to even think of it. Cheekily, you questioned: “A gift for me?”

Then she tightened it with one clean move and pulled it, drawing your head closer to her. A fervid kiss shared between two pent-up partners, a delighted whimper coming out of you and a satisfied moan drawing out of Wednesday, when she pulled away her voice was firm in correcting you. “Your leash.”

In between the lines, you read what she intended to say: Be a good puppy tonight.

You chuckled though, hands still restraining themselves to avoid touching Wednesday. “You’ve come prepared, I wonder what else you got on your sleeves.”

“Toys,” Wednesday admitted immediately.

And that took you back for a moment. “W-what?”

You almost couldn’t believe what she was saying, but you soon realized she was not joking.

Smash cut to the flabbergasting scene. You and Wednesday standing over her desk, a large wooden box of old laying there open with a small, orderly variety of toys. What jumped to your view, of course, was the strap and that skin-colored dildo. It… matched Wednesday’s skin tone, and the mere thought of her with it on made you bite your lower lip. But you pulled back, not getting too ahead of yourself. “I thought you weren’t into this kind of stuff,” you mumbled out after.

“I wanted to ravage my pet a little more efficiently,” she said, giving it to you straight. But when she looked at you, there was an ounce of yearn and a dash of preoccupation, wondering if that might be okay with you.

Curiosity was piqued, given that she had said that she wanted to indulge more in her pleasure than yours. So, you asked quietly. “You want to use it on me?”

Wednesday hesitated, turning her body to face yours. “Eventually. I would like you to use it on me for now,” a pause. “I’ve seen the way you can move your hips.”

Flabbergasted, you almost jumped out of your ‘pet’ character at this revelation. You should’ve known, all things considered, but her boldness was the thing that caught you off guard just a tad. Well that, and the confession that she had observed you previously. “W-when?”

“During that case we had at the club, when you were distracting the suspect by asking them out on a dance,” Wednesday’s blush became a little more apparent, especially this close. “That was impressive and I would like to see it up close.”

There was more she wanted to say, but you didn’t push her to say it. You, instead, got on your knees and looked up at her. With the change in height, Wednesday already could feel herself growing into her role of your Master. She grabbed your tie almost instinctively, like something had compelled her to do so. Now more aware of what she wanted and eager to comply, you said: “I am entirely at your disposal, Master.”

“Good,” a brief pause full of tension. “Get the lube, put the strap on,” then Wednesday smirked. “And put your sweater on.”

Huh?

Wednesday Addams was an odd woman, who simultaneously knew not what to make of sex, yet knew what she wanted from it. Most importantly, she knew what she wanted to do with you, at least this time around. The doubt that you once saw that night at home was almost entirely gone, replaced by innate curiosity and willingness to explore beyond her prejudices. Everyday, you learned more of her and this was no different. She had ordered you to get up, put on your red sweater and you didn’t know why. For a moment, you thought she was going to tell you to disrobe for her but in a switch of things she told you to dress up.

The reality was that it was something psychological, something subtle that aroused Wednesday. 

You came to understand it as you were pulling her socks off, the two of you now seated in the rug a safe distance away from the consuming flames of the fireplace. Wednesday was seated and leaned back, relishing in the look of you fully dressed while she was already down to just her underwear. Almost entirely bare for you.

“My sweet little pet, don’t you wish you were naked with me?” Wednesday said, watching you, her little pet, pull her other sock. 

You played along, curious. “Don’t you, Master?”

Wednesday’s smirk was devilish. “I much prefer to witness you this way. Clothed, desperate, serving me and only me. While I lay bare, exhibiting myself to you as I please.”

Like you are not allowed to be naked, to be disrobed without her permission. She is in total control of you, and even if the clothes restrained you little, Wednesday took pleasure in that idea alone. A master in control of the subtle things, pulling at your strings to get what she wanted. In addition, Wednesday probably enjoyed the feeling of being exposed to you like this, feeling like she was… doing something so wild, something depraved and out of character for her. That still-audacious choice of underwear spoke to you, perhaps louder than last time. Black lace matching set, more enticing than macabre and a new side to Wednesday. It was not the same she wore before, which brought even more questions. You didn’t mind at all, leaning down to gently kiss her feet, an affectionate gesture in the midst of so much depravity. A gesture of devotion to your partner in crime.

“Good pet,” Wednesday praised you, with much more fondness in her tone than she intended. 

Pulling you by your leash – er, tie – Wednesday hungrily captured your lips on her own in a fervent kiss. Consuming all remaining bits of reason and deterrence, welcoming in ‘immorality’ and wickedness in its place. You noticed it in the way Wednesday kissed you now, letting every ounce of passion come through in the rather frantic way she devoured you. Confidence, that was the change. She bit your lower lip and tugged with a mischievous smirk, looking at you with those lustful half lidded eyes and tacitly encouraged you to do your magic, like a good pet. Once she let go of your lip, you took the lead and kissed her hungrily again, this time letting your tongue drag across her own. Your hands, like with a mind of their own, expertly undid her bra amidst the kiss and immediately reached down to help her slip off of the rest of her underwear. Breaking the kiss, Wednesday almost groaned at the loss of contact but finished undressing just as eagerly to welcome something far better. 

Curiosity was plaguing you as you folded her underwear neatly and placed it alongside Wednesday’s clothing items (a peculiar habit, but nevermind that). That curiosity came to a head once you started to smear lubricant all across that silicone shaft, feeling its details with your fingers. “Have you used this before, Master?” The question was genuine. 

Wednesday, already blushing and aroused, nodded without any shame. “I have. It was certainly an experience,” she admitted, sitting up to grab you by the cock and pull you in a little closer, neediness permeating her entire body language now. She stroked it slowly, despite knowing you technically didn’t feel anything. “If you are worried I might not be able to take it–.”

“No, I think you’ve got it,” you chuckled out, observing the way her hand stroked the strap. The mere intention and the way she did it were enough to allure just about anyone, but there was something about her doing it that was so peculiarly arousing. “You’re ready for me, Master?”

Wednesday looked up, then smirked and laid back down. Her legs opened to welcome you, instantly wrapping around you the moment you even moved closer to her. “Are you, my pet?” Wednesday cheekily responded, now observing you with lots of attention. 

You raised an eyebrow at her, gently guiding the cock to brush against her wet and ready folds. That garnered a reaction, soft and subtle but a delectable one nonetheless. “Readier than ever,” you paused, looking at her pussy and continuing to rub the tip against her. Her natural lubricant now smearing all around it. “You’re so wet. Have you been holding yourself back for weeks?” You asked rhetorically, or at least with no intentions of hearing her respond.

But she did. “Yes, I have,” she looked at you dead in the eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

You wouldn’t let her wait any longer, gently tapping the tip of that cock against her clit and making her squirm almost instantly at it. An overwhelming sensation that probably felt so good for Wednesday, because she bucked her hips against it just to feel it more. But you stopped it in favor of what Wednesday was looking for.

The tip of the cock aligned against her entrance, meeting a bit of resistance before you pushed it in. That satisfying pop inside was not a shock for Wednesday, but still something still too new for her to be accustomed to. As gentle as ever, you slowly pushed it in, guiding the cock with one hand while the other caressed Wednesday’s tummy to quell the possible ache of an intruding object. “Shh, shh, you’re good, baby,” you softly placated. 

Wednesday deeply breathed and held onto your arm, doing her best to calm her body down. In no time, she welcomed your gentle and languid thrusts smoothly. The slickness of the way it slid in and out was indication enough but the presence of soft sounds of pleasure that grew steadily into moans was the last confirmation you needed. Now, you leaned to hover over Wednesday as your hips moved in a rhythm designed to ease Wednesday into it, not thrusting everything into her. But it was also to eventually torture her for how agonizingly slow and shallow it was.

Wednesday was still in the ‘ease-in’ phase of it, hands traveling down your clothed body and landing on your moving hips. Truthfully, she admired the movement as she felt it in her pussy, hands gripping your hips to understand the way it felt in her hands. Relishing in every second of its slowness. With a delighted hum, she reached down and grabbed your ass – possessiveness written so clearly in her intentions, but also curiosity as to how it felt thrusting into her. Mewling, she had a smirk that you swore could almost be a smile. “Not bad, my little pet,” she complimented you subtly, and you had to fight back the urge to thrust deep into her and ravage her right then and there. Be a good pet, and you will be rewarded.

Those soft moans of ease grew into needier ones and you did not wait for Wednesday to ask you or threaten you to start going faster. Your rhythm naturally picked up, thrusts becoming more elaborate along with it, and Wednesday only could get wetter and wetter. You straightened up, fully able to view Wednesday’s bare body in all its glory. Gorgeously bathed in that golden glow of dancing fire; the subtle arch of her back making her look so sensual. Your hands held her hips briefly before they traveled upwards caressing as much of her body as you could. When your hands reached her breast you grabbed them, kneading them passionately (it seemed to have taken Wednesday by a slight surprise), not letting your hips falter for a second as you did. “Such a good pet,” Wednesday moaned out, placing her hands on top of yours. “Harder now, your master is ready.” 

“Yes, master,” you raspily said. Hands moved away and you leaned in to capture Wednesday’s lips in a rather simple kiss. Simple but still passionate, brief enough to send a message of affection. But to make it clear, you softly spoke. “Let me know if it’s too much, okay?”

Wednesday nodded, keeping any witty remark to herself as she knew you were only being a good pet by taking care of her.

The fun truly began. You sat back up and grabbed Wednesday’s hip tightly, fingertips greedily digging into her skin. The movement of your hips went from sensual and slow, to wild and rough; pulling out until just the tip clung to Wednesday’s entrance, then slamming that cock all the way inside. The moment Wednesday felt that all the way inside, there was no way in heaven or hell that she could stop herself from moaning out as loud as she did. It was certainly a pleasant surprise though, for she didn’t squirm away from your hips, instead pushed against them. Welcoming it, asking for more. Then you didn’t hesitate to do it again, and again. A bestial instinct sparked within the two of you at this roughness, you both sinking deeper into that lustful haze that understood no reason, only pleasure. 

Shouldn’t be a surprise that Wednesday liked it, thrusting that cock as deep as it could go and filling her up, then feeling that cruel pull out that seemed to stretch on forever – even if it wasn’t that long at all. All of it was arousing, the tension in between, the sensation of being filled to the brim, all of it sparkling new to her, for she didn’t dare to venture this far when she used this toy by herself. It amused her how much losing control like this was something she was enjoying thoroughly. The wet sounds of it all, the skin slapping that gradually became quicker, the perfect atmosphere of a thunderstorm raging just outside the sturdy walls of the library, stimulating her every heightened senses.

Then you picked up the speed, holding her down in place and letting your hips do the work she so desperately wanted to see. Savagely, you wasted no inch of that cock and made every movement count. Wednesday was elated, now unable to fully restrain those loud moans back, hands clinging and holding on tightly to the rug that provided little steadiness. Merciless thrusts that Wednesday wallowed in. Oh and she enjoyed that wild look in your eyes, mirroring hers as you embraced such a savage state of mind with her as a guest.

Wednesday wanted to be the recipient of your desire, over and over, for however long she could. 

That intense feeling was building up in the way she liked, her pussy starting to feel sensitive, her cheeks warming up exponentially, her entire body tensing up and moving without her thinking it, her toes curling–.

But then… What happens if she comes? Will you stop? What happens when this is over? Will it ever happen again? Was she ready for that? 

Something switched in Wednesday’s train of thought, so sudden and unexpected. The strong emotions were coming in fast and she couldn’t process them at all. The intensity escalated more, but the pleasure started to take a backseat as suddenly she was overwhelmed. An unpleasant new sensation pooling at the pit of her gut that took over her mind for that moment. A mixture of confusion and desire that Wednesday had yet to fully examine, too out of her mind to even think about what she truly was feeling. 

She was not ready to lose control totally, but paradoxically she wanted to lose control so badly for that moment. Cold and heat clashing in the worst moment possible to make her doubt everything.

The moans of a carefree Wednesday suddenly turned into whimpers, then to sharper whines, clawing at your arm and gasping. That shortness of breath forbade her from vocalizing this confusing sensation, but luckily you could intuit something was wrong. You heard it, you felt it, and instinctively started to slow down; elongated strokes now shorter and careful. Hearing those gasps and whines fade a bit, lowering in volume, was a relief. Your affection for her quickly took over, searching for her eyes and reading her expression. It was as you heard it, Wednesday was overwhelmed. “Hey, hey, are you okay?” You panted out, leaning down to be closer to her.

Her arms wrapped around you limply at first, then she held you tighter than before, panting heavily and burying her head on your neck. A twinge within you couldn’t help itself in feeling this intensely… adorable, even though what happened probably felt wrong for Wednesday. Her finding solace in your embrace was good, though. She trusted you that way.

Putting your role in this dynamic aside for a moment, you reveled in that inner tenderness of yours and this rare break from all the wildness. “Hey, shhh, it’s okay,” you softly cooed, sweetly speaking to her ear. “You’re okay, mamacita. I’ve got you.”

Wednesday sighed out loudly, coming back down from this strange overwhelmed state quicker. It dissipated, pleasure slowly returning in its wake. Wednesday found it rather fascinating as her mind slowly returned to planet earth. It was a rush of sudden emotions that she had never experienced before, let alone as intensely as this. The way you slowed down and let her calm down, it was like you understood exactly what had just happened. Trusting you and your knowledge, she asked in a low voice. “What… what was that?”

“You got overwhelmed,” you said lowly, pulling her away from your embrace and encouraging her to lay down on her back. Your hand idly caressed stomach to help calm her down, watching her already mewl in approval of that. Reeling in the back of her eyes was the surprise, which should wear off for a second, so you were patient.

“I like it rough,” Wednesday clarified, but her eyes and eyebrows showcased that confusion. “That wasn’t a problem before.”

“It wasn’t,” you sighed out loudly, letting your body catch a breather as well. “But if you get in your head or I reach a spot you’re not comfortable with, you might…” You trailed off as you noticed Wednesday averting her gaze somewhere else, propping her upper body up by her elbows. You knew what that meant, so you softly commented. “You got in your head, didn’t you?”

No response. Instead, Wednesday tried to communicate by looking at you, unsure of how to word it.

Well, that was an amusing part of the experience, to understand that even the great Wednesday – your master – had a limit. Or, well, a soft limit that could easily be overridden. Taking the lead, you pulled away to trail a few, passionate and slow kisses around Wednesday’s stomach. Those soft moans of delight came back and Wednesday had fully relaxed by the time you chose to speak.

“Let’s try this again, this time I want you to stop thinking about it. Let the moment be and make the most of it.”

Wednesday looked down at you, her adorably obedient pet, taking the reins for her sake in this brief moment. The dark spirals of that blackened heart felt, strangely, at ease. Nothing inherently romantic, nothing sexual, just comforting words from a partner who sought to look out for her well being. In confidence, she spoke: “These desires bring so much trouble,” her heart not fully on the statement.

Your kissing halted for a second to chuckle and reply: “Yes, but it’s an itch worth scratching,” you said, continuing with gentle licks. Intimacy and affection not forgotten, you let your hands travel the dips and curves of Wednesday’s body, knowing that while she never spoke out loud about these affectionate gestures, she appreciated the subtle worship – maybe even more than you realized.

The role of master came back to Wednesday naturally as the pleasure rolled back in, this time feeling it a little more intensely than at the beginning but in a manageable way. Your role came back to you instantly as you noticed she went back to getting bolder, moans of pleasure loud and clear, primed to compete against the rumble and roar of the thunder outside.

Your master came back in full force, demanding you to stop with a firm voice that sent goosebumps all over. “Enough, little mutt,” and you were a good pet that obeyed, lending the baton back to Wednesday. “Your master needs to know more about your abilities…”

Did you ever wonder if Wednesday was flexible? It seemed like a no-brainer with all her training and physical disciplines, but when she asked you for something audacious you couldn’t have ever imagined it.

Your hands under her knees, pressing them against her body and exposing that wet, needy pussy all for you to play with. The infamous mating press. The tip of the cock poked and prodded against her entrance, your hip stuttered for a second before you boldly thrusted all the way in, watching Wednesday throw her head back as she moaned without a care in the world. Wednesday could feel it go in deeper than before, but her body was prepared for it and reacted positively. You dared not to move yet, patiently awaiting her command even though the desire to fuck her was clawing within you. Obedience that did not go unnoticed as Wednesday smirked at it, rewarding you with a soft kiss and a caress to your cheek. “Fuck me, my obedient little pet,” she gasped out sensually. “I know you want to.”

No more hesitating then. With your hands gripping her leg tightly, you did as she told you. You fucked her, and you fucked her good. Starting with a moderate pace that had Wednesday groan in vague annoyance, before quickly shutting up those moans with roughness, slamming that cock into her with gusto. Wednesday moaned out for you, calling out your name – sometimes outright forgetting to refer to you as her pet. But those were precious moments where her mask slipped, where her affection was clear, and it was sweet. A lustful mist that clouded her brain enough to truly reveal that she loved this deeply, because it was with you. So you continued to give it to her, merciless full strokes that at times had her gasping for air before she composed herself and remembered to breathe. Especially when that warm twinge started to contract in her gut, but this time in such a toe-curling pleasurable way. It wouldn’t take long for these bestial thrusts to stimulate her every inch until she came.

But Wednesday had better plans. “My lovely pet,” her labored, gaspy voice appeared between the strings of incoherent sounds. “Master’s going to come, stop.”

You almost didn’t understand anything except ‘stop’, but the bewilderment misaligned your thrust enough for the strap to slip out of her pussy. A mixed sigh of relief and annoyance at the loss of contact came out of Wednesday instantly. “W-what?” You stammered out.

Limp went her arms and body for a second, relishing in the cruel, anguishing sensation of a climax that never came and quickly faded. That wicked smirk on her face was enough confirmation of what she had just said to you. You didn’t stay behind though, calmly aligning the tip of the toy back against her entrance, entering a little bit slowly. 

“H-hmm?” Wednesday was puzzled, until she felt a single, long stroke all the way in. Her gasp was instant, but she could barely process the feeling of that cock inside of her because you pulled it back out instantly. Poor thing almost expected it back in, in accordance to your rhythm, but it never came and it had her excited, anticipating with hunger. Oh, it was anguishing and delicious.

“You’re going to torture yourself until you can’t anymore, aren’t you?” You growled at her, giving her another deep, rough thrust in. Her moan could barely come out before it turned into a whine as you pulled back out quicker, again. “You learn quick.”

Wednesday groaned at the sudden power you had over her, yet protested it none. “You better not come either, not until I’m done playing with you–Hnng!” You interrupted her sentence by thrusting into her, because some of that masochistic cruelty she had for herself started to rub off on you.

“I can’t come from this, master.” You interjected. 

She could’ve easily thrown a witty remark back, but she was busy being surprised to still feel that cock inside of her after that initial thrust. Yet her gasp didn’t take long to appear again as you started to circle your hips while buried deep inside her. “Fu-fuck, you naughty mutt,” Wednesday cursed out, back arched and head thrown back, noting how her eyes had rolled back at that moment.

That is probably the first time you heard Wednesday curse at you, or in general. How amusing, you wanted her to do it again – and you were gunning for that, but you were stopped by the feeling of grabbing you by your neck abruptly. Surprising, but in your drunken lust it was so sensual. She pulled you close, staring deeply into your eyes. “Get on your back, you slutty mutt,” her bewitching, sensual voice just got to you, bringing a new spurt of energy to your body that you couldn’t expel in any other way but this one.

Fucking her real good. 

Reclaiming her throne, Wednesday straddled you but with a whole different aura to her now. It was not her merely powering over you to interrogate you, or disturbing your serene slumber. This time she looked at you with that evil smirk tugging at her lips, dark eyes oozing hunger. Yes, indeed, she’s famished for more, and now she took the lead. Vague hesitation permeated her movements at first, but once aligning the cock to her entrance and smoothly sliding down on it, that hesitation dissipated to welcome instinct instead. The instinct to seek more pleasure, slamming down to fit it all the way in with a groan of ecstasy. Hands on your chest and shoulder for leverage, Wednesday began to move her hips in a way you never thought she would. That was a pleasant surprise, and though you technically couldn’t feel anything, the mere sensuality of it all had you enthralled. 

“Such a good little puppy I have with me,” Wednesday moaned out softly, her alluring moves starting to pick up a little in speed. “So obedient,” her voice a mixture of wickedness and affection, a combination she was so good with. “So sad the little puppy can’t come from this.”

Fingertips traveled from your collarbone to your cheek, feeling her dexterous fingers dance down to your jaw, staying in your chin for a moment before lightly (and surprisingly slowly) scratching under there. A gesture akin to what she would do to a real pet, and that was elating. It made you smile, which in turn brought a very rare smile on Wednesday. One you knew not to comment on, for she hated the way she smiled sometimes. Encouraged by the gesture, your light-as-feather finger touched her thigh, caressing upward as she moved and stopping at her hips. Your palm felt the movements, your fingertips dug into that soft, surprisingly warm skin – when it usually is cold and almost rigid. Being the good puppy that you were, you aided Wednesday in her moves and kept still for her to humor herself as she pleased.

And the gesture did not go past Wednesday.

“Helping Master?” Wednesday rhetorically asked, mewling in between that pause and holding it together to continue talking. “You want Master to come, even if it means you won’t get anything?”

Fascinating that Wednesday seemed to revel in the dirty talking, when she once preferred silence. Of course you would indulge her, nourishing that exploration and newfound kink. Everything for your master. “I want you to, Master. I’ll serve you until you’re satisfied.”

Wednesday knew that your selflessness knew no bounds, especially when it came to her. She could be the cruel mistress right now, but instead she slowed her pace down, her hand now caressing your face. “Be a good girl and I’ll give you a reward,” was what Wednesday could muster, a vague admission that she wanted you to feel pleasure from her as well. Eventually, anyway.

You couldn’t deny such a generous offer. “Yes, Master.”

Pulling your tie to prop your head up, she leaned down and kissed you hungrily, sloppily, but without missing a second to savor it. You replied with the same vigor for that brief moment you locked lips. There was no time where kissing Wednesday felt repetitive, for it always was a strong sensation that sparked all over your body – and Wednesday felt the same, unable to deny that she enjoyed it. 

Letting go of your tie, Wednesday pulled back and began to truly pick up the speed. Her sensuous moves went faster and she tried very hard to keep it consistent, feeling the pleasure get to her, and in a way that was so intoxicating to watch. Yet, it felt like you shouldn’t be observing, ogling so much, like Wednesday wouldn’t want that. But that flicker of doubt went away when she looked into your eyes and smirked briefly. She wanted you to, she was encouraging you to observe her bare body – a sight no one gets to see but you, especially not now as it bounced on that cock, so ravenously seeking that climax. She looked so heavenly, so wild, you almost wished you had more hands to touch and grab those bouncing breasts greedily. Instead, like any good pet, you settled for helping her bounce on it. Helping her light frame up and down on it, even subtly bucking your hips against her movements to fully get all that cock into her, and her reaction to it was immediate. The cock rubbed and poked at sensitive spots within her with such gusto that Wednesday could feel her body acting on its own, actively seeking it and continuing her bounce. Hypnotized by the feeling of it, that zenith inched close far too quickly for her taste.

With a shake of her head, she pulled it all out and settled to sit away from it, panting heavily. You thought, for a moment, she maybe would have wanted to come like this, but – almost as if she read your mind – she placed her hand against your lips and kept you quiet. She shook her head again, catching a breather.

“No, I’m not done with you.”

Okay, maybe she did read your mind. 

But you couldn’t read hers and she knew so by the way you looked at her with a quirked eyebrow and lost, half-lidded eyes.

Once composed, Wednesday huffed in relief and moved away from you. She crawled, slowly and alluringly away from you, showcasing herself to you in all her naughty glory. The only reason you didn’t immediately go to her was because you were flabbergasted. She looked so good, and so tempting in all kinds of angles. You truly could devour her, she was likely to let you.

A soft, impish chuckle came out of Wednesday once she noticed this, soon whistling (loudly at that) to get your attention. When you finally woke up and looked at her, your response was absent minded but honest. “Sorry, mistress.”

Wednesday raised an eyebrow at the new nickname, but she liked it, motioning you to come on over with her hand. “Come here at once,” she was firm but oddly affectionate as you crawled over and adjusted behind her. “Mistress needs her release now,” she said with a sensual emphasis on Mistress.

A subtle tell that, like this, she was ready to come. “Y-Yes, master,” you stammered out. While your voice faltered in that moment, your hips did not as you bottomed out that cock all the way into Wednesday back where it belonged, earning a satisfied groan. 

The pace and rhythm was already set to be fast, frantic and needy; her pussy so wet and welcoming that there was no need to be gentle anymore. Truly, you were not. Holding her hips in place, you thrusted with gusto, enjoying every second of this and making every inch of your move sensual and tantalizing for Wednesday to enjoy. Your mistress mewled and moaned like she never did before, showing you that she could truly get louder. Her back arched, her hands clung to the rug, and she couldn’t help some incoherent profanities from slipping past her composure. Well, whatever was left of it. And that paper-thin composure got shattered more when you started to rock her against your thrusts to truly impale her as deep as you could. It was pure ecstasy, it would make anyone with the hardest wall melt for sure and Wednesday was no exception. Even less when you wildly smacked her ass and picked up the roughness more.

“Fuck,” Wednesday gasped out at the sudden shift, feeling everything a lot more heightened now. “Y-you naughty little mutt,” she could barely say that with a growl, moaning towards the end of it. “You truly know how to fuck your mistress, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” the mere atmosphere had you tipsy with lust even if you couldn’t feel the friction. “I can’t get enough of your pussy,” your fingers dug into her skin the rougher your thrust got. “I-Is this good Master?”

You didn’t need to ask, Wednesday’s volume went up higher and could almost make the walls shake. “So fucking good, don’t you dare stop,” Wednesday’s labored breath was almost lost to the sound of slapping, but you caught it right on time.

“You’re dripping wet, Wens,” the nickname slipped your mind, your brain foggy with everything happening. “You’ve been needing this a while.”

Surprisingly, Wednesday didn’t seem to mind. “Because of you,” she replied in between gasps and moans, reaching back to feel around your body, from your arm to your shoulder, for your tie. She grabbed it and began to pull you in, making you drape your body on hers. You obliged, stopping for a moment, buried deep into her and twirling your hips to truly stimulate her deep down. Her eyebrows knitted in such delight at the pleasure. “Come here,” she whimpered out, placing a hand on your head and directing you to kiss, hard and needily. You didn’t expect anything, especially as her tongue dragged across your lips hungrily and possessively, seeking to taste your tongue again. However, there was a brief break in between that passion for Wednesday to say something you didn’t expect to hear ever.

In between moans and mewls, Wednesday said: “Thank you.”

You assumed it was because of all of this? After all, you got all the way here and became her little pet for another night – for however long it’s been since you two first kissed again. Clothed, aroused yet unable to undress and please yourself. A masochist’s dream to some extent. But it’s feasible that, deep down, Wednesday felt a little guilty for selfishly putting you through this for her amusement. Or maybe she felt… grateful that you made it safe for her to do so?

Overwhelmed with affection and passion, you replied a simple: “Anything for you,” as you dove down to her neck to place a playful bite that she chuckled at. Another thing you heard for the first time in a while, a chuckle that was not fake or forceful, coming from her deepest, most honest side of her black miasma of a heart. But a heart, no matter how blackened and rough, was still a heart at the end of the day.

Your hands went from her hips down to her pussy, caressing so lovingly on the way there. Rubbing her tummy with one hand and stimulating her clit with the other, you immediately felt that strong response against your body. Wednesday’s body squirmed, she gasped and grabbed a fistful of your hair when the pleasure hit, feeling that wave extend over her body in a positively paralyzing way. Now that’s the way to get her. 

A bit sooner than expected, Wednesday felt that extreme desperation to come, but could barely vocalize it with the way you fucked her, the way you played with her pussy like you were born to do that – like she was born to enjoy you. In a surprising gesture, Wednesday firmly commanded:

“Look at me.” 

It was like it came from her most primal side that refused to become mush to your administration while her entire body quivered. You gave her one last bite to her neck and looked up at her, hips fervently thrusting towards her climax (and you swear you could feel her closing around the cock), hands frantically rubbing and working on her clit while she looked at you with such hungry eyes. The pleasure built up again, but this time there was no thought to ruin it, letting the moment be as you told her to do. Her only thought was to lose that control she was so afraid of losing, and to relish that loss in your arms.

“Make me come, make your master come all over you,” she moaned out now, less firmly now.

As she said that, you put a little more pressure in your hand, your hips moving just the right way and angled in that perfect way that instantly had Wednesday’s face contorting entirely because of that pleasure. You pulled your body away to give her and her body the space to react to it, already telling by the high pitched tone of her voice that she was right there at the coveted zenith. It all had sent her off the edge, opening the floodgates that spilled her juice all over your cock, all over your fingers, nearly dripping down to the rug. “Oh my god,” she cried out and called out for you in a drowned whimper, upper body succumbing to the rug, hands stretched out to cling to anything to the rug. Her lower body trembled against you and the way you fucked her, truly something you didn’t expect Wednesday to experience. You knew nothing more at that moment than to keep going, now thrusting more consistently to truly fuck her all the way through her orgasm.

An orgasm that surprised you by how it stretched further than her last one, remaining as intense for longer. You were a good pet that gave it your all until it started to fade. Her moans got quieter, her body uncoiled from its tense state, and you slowed down in tandem to it. Fingers, thrusting, everything slowed down. Time, even, the storm outside, seemed to slow down with you both.

Then, that fervor, that all-consuming climax, was gone.

Wednesday panted heavily, gasping out at the feeling that you were still inside of her, so she reached back and touched your hip to gently push you, pleasantly overwhelmed and overstimulated. Obliging, you pulled away. Quietly now, only accompanied by your labored breaths and the crinkling of the live flame nearby, you both relished in that post-orgasmic bliss – Wednesday more than you, but watching her still propped up and so ruined was… so good, it could almost bring you to your own climax. 

You focused back on her though, gently touching her and leading her to lay down proper. Mind still reeling from all that, Wednesday only got on her side and laid down. The movement and the contact of your hands had her whimpering and whining, still sensitive because of it all. It was honestly quite adorable but you knew not to admit that out loud. You didn’t waste more time, standing up to get rid of the strap-on so you could get down and properly cuddle your master. Lewdly, you noted just how all of Wednesday essence was on it, and you couldn’t fight back a moan of your own.

“Get… here,” Wednesday barely mumbled out, snapping your attention back to reality and quickly to her. “Hold me, puppy.”

Putting the strap away for a nice cleanse, you walked back and laid down on your back next to Wednesday. She immediately moved closer and placed her head on your chest, arm wrapped around your waist to hold you as close as you could be. You tenderly hugged her close to you. “Are you okay?” It was that sweet contrast between the focused, primal you of moments before, to the supportive and puppy-like you in the after bliss. 

Wednesday nodded, still too spent to speak. 

“Good,” and you had all the intentions to let the conversation die there if needed, until you started to feel her entire body give a quick, almost adorable twitch. You blinked in confusion a few times before you looked at her. “Did you just twitch?”

“Keep it to yourself,” Wednesday said with a flimsy attempt at sounding firm, slowly looking up. “I can’t help it.”

You smiled down at her and nodded. “Your secret will always be safe with me,” you leaned down and placed a kiss on her bang-covered forehead. 

There was a mumble that  you couldn’t understand, Wednesday shifting a little closer. You held her tighter, rubbing her naked back. After a brief silence between the two of you, she spoke out more clearly. “Good puppy,” a beat. “I’ll give you your reward.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and was about to protest it, seeing how exhausted she was.

Then she continued. “Some other time…”

Rather than frustration, that brought a chuckle out of you. “Yes, we have a groundbreaking case to crack lying on that desk first.”

Wednesday groaned. Another chuckle from you, then pleasant silence. 

The conversation drifted with the lulling wind outside, the song that Wednesday had playing far away finished so long ago. Now, her record player only spun in silence, while the partners in crime slept cuddled close to the warm fireplace.

Currently watching Wednesday.

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐄 | tara carpenter & fem!detective!reader

tags. no major warnings, implied sex, this take place after scream vi events. words. 3.049

a/n. this isn't the g!p reader i was talking about, but it has a little "spoiler" for it in the middle of all this, good luck! this one is for you, @wesstars 🫶

“Think you can warm me up?”

The low request came almost unnoticed by you, making you take a step back and look carefully at the ball of blankets on the couch.

Hidden there, under a couple layers of cozy blankets, a small Tara appeared with a red nose.

You smiled softly at the adorable view in front of you.

“I can’t, babe, I have some reports to look at, and it’s getting late.”

She pouted, looking at you with doe eyes that never failed, wide, soft with shining little stars dancing in the brown as she looks at you.

“Please? Just until I fall asleep.”

How could you say no to that?

You fold in the same second, forgetting that you have long pile of files to look at, carefully placing your mug filled with hot coffee on the side table, you took off your slippers and slid under the thick fabric, opening your arms towards the younger one.

Like she always does, Tara threw her legs over yours and hugged your torso, resting her head on your shoulder.

“You know…” you started, pulling her closer to you. “You wouldn’t feel cold if you wore more than just underwear and a tank top.”

“I don’t need to wear clothes; I have you to keep me warm,” Tara said back, looking at you with soft, sleepy eyes.

You smiled fondly, caressing her thigh with your hand. Leaning forward, you placed a kiss on her forehead, admiring the way the corner of her lips slightly tugged up, eyes closed and tip of nose red, the freckles spread on her face like stars in the dark night; Tara was a work of art.

“I love you so much, did you know that?” You whispered close to her lips.

She wrinkled her nose, “I know, but I don’t mind hearing you saying again, and again…”

Stopping her rambling, you pressed your lips on hers, sighing with such familiar taste of cherry of her lip balm. Tara was all soft, and when she was like this, calm and patient under your touch, it made your heart race.

When you first met her, during a rainy night at the police station, the girl could barely sustain your eyes, always avoiding them and fixating on somewhere or something else, like on her older sister, Sam. She came in because some idiots from a frat house were harassing her and her sister following the events from last year. You didn’t know much about the Carpenter’s sister, it was only your first month as a detective in New York, only heard rumors and whispers about it.

You ignored the others eyes on her, taking off your jacket to cover the small body that was trembling, being closely watched by the older Carpenter. Carefully, you placed the brown leather jacket around her shoulders, taking a couple steps back once you did, giving her a safe space.

Tara went home with your jacket that night, and when she brought it back, leaving it at the front desk, 5 days later, a small note was inside the pocket, written in a delicate handwriting, a small “thank you :)”. You smiled, keeping the note inside and going back to work.

The precinct was a place filled with gossips, theories and lies made up to creep you out. Your colleagues — if you could call them that — weren’t the most delightful people to be around, as most of them were men, you felt misplaced, an outcast, even thought you were on a higher level than them, mere police officers with a giant ego. Respect was a word that, apparently, wasn’t taught to them during life. You could count on your fingers the ones that were truly a nice officer and decent human being.

As the days went by, more talking took over the place, annoying ones that always got your rolling your eyes and ignoring them, the Carpenter sister’s being the subject of it 90% of the time, it’s like the big apple only had two young girls living in it and they were the reason to all the chaos that perpetuate in New York.

One day, late at night, you were finishing some reports to call it a day when a familiar voice caught your attention, the short blonde hair and leather jacket automatically bringing a smile on your face. You closed your computer and stood up, grabbing the brown leather jacket from the chair’s back and tossed over your shoulder.

“You’re too loud, did you know that, agent Reed?”

The woman turned around the same second your known perfume filled the room, a big smile tugging on her lips. She waited for you to get closer, annoyingly punching your arm as a form to say ‘hi’. Standing in front of her, the younger Carpenter was awkwardly looking at you, curiosity in her eyes as she watched you and your old friend interact.

You didn’t notice, but Tara was carefully watching you, the way your eyes light up whenever Kirby said something that happened while you were away from each other, crazy stories like the one where she almost got killed, again, a couple months ago. Funny ones, like when a common friend of yours got scared during a mission and yelled like a little girl because of a cat hidden inside a locker, causing you to throw your head back as you deliciously laughed. She smiled too, tilting her head to admire the way your nose scrunched or how your lips moved when you talked, or how your browns furred when Reed told what happened last year during Halloween, only then your eyes met Tara’s for more than a few seconds, a pinkish color painting her cheeks.

You didn’t know much about it, choosing to ignore the comments as you never knew what was a fact or what was a lie purposefully made up to destroy the sister’s images. All you were aware off, was that the masked killer that terrorized your colleague, and friend’s, life years ago in Woodsborro came back and worked at the precinct.

Kirby wasn’t the type of person that spoke about her fears and the horrors that haunted her over the years, all you knew was what she chose to share and the reason to why she decided to become a detective. You didn’t push her to talk, patiently waited for her to open up to you by choice because she trusted you. It took a long time for the moment to come, but one day, the alcohol in her made her talk and boy… she really had a lot to share, and it was very graphic — you swore you could feel the knife twisting inside you.

And now, with your eyes connected to Tara’s, a girl that seemed so sweet and kind, had gone through the same traumatic event as Reed did and, knowing her the way you did, you could only image the scars that hung onto the young Carpenter’s body and soul. You smiled at her, reaching your hand to hers.

“It’s nice seeing you again, miss Carpenter.”

Her hand was soft, warm and delicate against yours.

“You too, detective.” She smiled, hand still on yours. “I didn’t know you and Kirby knew each other.”

“Well, when I joined the force,” you started, forcing yourself to break the contact. “Reed was the first one to reach out to me and invite me for some beer after out shift.”

“She’s a very quiet girl, but it’s a great listener.” Kirby said with her costumery side smiled. “If you ever need someone to talk to, Tara, she’s the one you can go to.”

You looked at Kirby with pursed lips, head tilting in a silent ‘what the fuck are you doing?’

Tara let out a small laugh, “It’s good to know that, Kirby. If you trust her, then I do too.”

“Well, I don’t believe in that,” you said, licking your lips as you gave your attention to the girl. “I rather earn your trust than Kirby just giving it away. Trust is a very precious and intimate thing, Tara, you should only trust someone you know.”

“In that case, we should get to know each other better.” She smiled. “Don’t you think, detective?”

“I think that’s a great idea, miss Carpenter.”

That night was the first time you went out with Tara; Kirby tagged along in the first two hours but went home after a few rounds of beer, the alcohol getting to her way easier than you remembered. Helping her into the cab, you made sure to share her live location with you before sending her home, an old habit you had acquired after the truth about her life in Woodsboro.  

“You know…” Tara started, her index finger messily playing with the sweaty, half empty, beer glass in front of her. “It’s sweet what you did there.”

“What do you mean?”

You have always been strong when it came to alcohol, maybe it was due to your position as a detective or you had a really good regenerating immune system — even a common cold couldn’t get to you.

Tara, apparently, wasn’t like you. She was leaning against the table, playing with the glass cup like a little kid that was sleepy but refused to close her eyes and drift away in slumber. You carefully watched her, afraid that she would eventually fall off the chair.

“The location, I saw you sending her live location to your number.”

You shrugged, taking a sip of your beer. “It’s nothing, really. I just want to make sure she gets home safe.”

“Still,” her hand reached yours on the table, thumb softly brushing your skin. “it’s sweet. You’re sweet.”

“And you’re drunk.” You laughed awkwardly, finishing your beer in one long sip, still allowing her to touch you. “Come on, let’s get you on a cab.”

Her hand grabbed yours when you threatened to stand up, ready to pay the bill. “No, please. I want to get to know you better.”

“We can do that some other time, miss Carpenter.”

“Promise?”

You didn’t like promises, it carried an obligation that you didn’t like, but you just couldn’t get yourself to say no when her big, sparkling eyes stared at your soul.

You sighed with a small smile, “I promise.”

When you were paying the bill, Tara was standing close to you, holding onto your arm as if you were going to run away from her. It was cute, you had to admit as you looked at her while the cashier waited for your card to approve the payment, the different height between you two very noticeable when her head barely reached the top of your shoulder.

Before you could put her inside the cab with her apartment address on it, you made sure to save her phone number and share her location with you, just like you did with Reed over the years.

“Text me when you get home?” Tara asked through the open window when you closed the door for her.

“I will.” You smiled, turning to the old driver. “Take her home safely, please?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You stood there for a few seconds, watching as the yellow car drove away, Tara’s happy face outside the window waving at you. You waved back, heart warm at how adorable she was.

When you got home that night, you weren’t exhausted even after the busy day and all the beer you had, you felt alive and giddy as you texted the newly-added number, telling her you were safe and sound at the comfort of your home. The reply came in the same second, telling you that she was in bed already with a kiss blowing emoji next to it.

Now, a year after that first night out with Tara, you had the young girl sleeping safely in your arms, the morning sun breaking the thick, rainy clouds and invading the apartment, waking you up. Tara was hidden in the hollow of your neck, her calm and heavy breathing tickling your skin, still sleeping soundly.

You looked around the scene, still half asleep. Your coffee mug, now cold, still on the side table. The birds were chirping for the first time in a while since the winter arrived in New York. Some blankets had fallen to the floor, leaving only one covering your bodies. It was true, Tara only needed you to keep her warm.

Feeling your eyes on her, she stirs in her sleep and you’re fast to tighten your arms around her, but after all the incidents that happened around her in the past years, she was a light sleeper.

“You’re suffocating me.” She giggles, hand resting on your neck.

“I should suffocate you after you made me skip work last night.”

“Did I? I don’t remember putting a gun to your head and making you cuddle me.”

Your eyes widened, pulling back just enough to find hers.

“You did worse! You looked at me with Bambi eyes and you know I cannot say no to that.”

She laughs, “You’re very weak for a detective.”

Rolling your eyes, you ignored the fake teasing, caressing the scar on the right side of her belly.

“I’m only weak when it comes to you. You’re my only weakness, Tara.”

Her expressions softened, eyes analyzing your face. She knew you weren’t lying, just like she knew you would do anything to protect her, other than the four core, you were the only one that took her walls down.

“Well, then I guess I’ll have to use this against you so I can have you all to myself.”

“You’ll always have me all to yourself.”

“I know,” she shrugged. “but sometimes work steals you from me.”

You smile, “I have to keep my girlfriend safe, don’t I?”

“I guess you do, but today,” the tip of her fingers slid under the collar of your sweater, noticing the lack of bra; she wet her lips. “I have you all to myself, and I am not letting you go.”

“I certainly don’t want you to.”

Tugging you by the collar, she climbed on top of you, the blanket falling to the floor with the sudden motion.

For the first time you could fully see her as she sat on your hip; black panties and an equally black tank top, slightly wrapped around her thin waist, the tip of her scar visible, messy hair cascading down her shoulders.

Biting your lower lip as your eyes followed her curves, hands on her thigh following to her hip, then her waist in a strong squeeze. When she leaned down, lips oh so close to yours, you jumped when a low clearing of the throat coming from the kitchen filled the room; your instinct quick to pull a blanket from the floor to cover Tara’s body and pull her against you.

Standing in the corner of the brick wall, Sam was avoiding looking in your direction until her sister was fully covered, arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Please, tell me you two weren’t going to have sex on my couch, again.”

Tara hid a laugh against your neck, unlike you — who felt heat rising from your toes all the way up to your face, cheeks burning with Sam’s disgusted look. This wasn’t the first time the older Carpenter walked on the two of you, but it was funny that this happened twice on the same week, at least this time you both were fully covered…

You opened your mouth in an attempt to say something, an apology, or maybe try to convince her that this was not what was happening at all, but all that came out was a struggled sound that caused Tara to laugh muffled against you.

Sam took a deep breath, reaching out for her keys that were settled next to your mug. She adjusted the black beanie as she walked to the door, unlocking the 4 sets of locks and turning to you with a tired expression, “If you two are still on my couch when I come back, we’re gonna have a whole different conversation. Got it?”

You nodded fast.

“Good.”

And left.

You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you’d been holding when you heard the jingling of keys on the other side of the door and distant steps going down the stairs.

Removing the blanket from her head, Tara looked at the closed door before staring at you, a loud and delicious laugh breaking the almost palpable tension that was left in the room.

“How can you laugh like this when your sister walked on us like this, again?” You were in disbelief, heart beating in your throat.

“If you could see your face, you’d laugh too,” she whipped the corner of her eyes, pressing a fast kiss on your lips. “I might be your only weakness, but Sam is your only fear.”

You huffed, agreeing with your girlfriend.

“I’ve seen what she’s capable of, I am not risking having my hands cut off, I’d miss them a lot!”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” she leaned in, hands on the side of your head, a hard grip on the cushions you laid your head on. Tara brushed her lips on yours, a fainted smell of cherries filling your lungs. "I would miss them too... more than you could ever imagine.”

Before you could close the small gap between your lips, the jingling of keys got you sitting up, arms firmly wrapped around the youngest waist, walking to bedroom at the end of the hallway, a giggly Tara clinging to your body for her dear life; you kicked the door close and leaned against it, breath caught up to your throat as you faced Tara with pursed lips.

Sam had her eyes closed when the door swung open, one hand on the door knob and the other covering her face. She had forgotten her cellphone. When she was met with silence, her index finger moved up a little, enough for her to peek at the scene.

The living room was a mess, blankets all over the floor, your slippers and Tara’s lost in between, a couple cushions in the middle as well, but what made her take a deep breath to keep from freaking out was the overturned mug on the side table, iced coffee dripping on the wooden floor.