❗️

[spidermanstealyohoe]

MASTERLIST

(request are open, feel free to ask, ps: might be a lil slow)

jenna ortega

champagne coast || j.o.

lovers rock || j.o.

back to you || j.o.

perdóname || j.o.

taking what’s not yours || j.o.

sabrina carpenter

again || s.c. | the one that got away || s.c.

tara carpenter

meet me halfway || t.c.

wet dreams || t.c.

i dare you || t.c.

calling u back || t.c. | real life || t.c | hold it together || t.c.

wednesday addams

my strange addiction || w.a.

cairo sweet

we are the people || c.s.

cigarettes out the window || c.s.

katie torres

puppy love || k.t.

vada cavell

not allowed || v.c.

mabel black

casual || m.b.

melissa barrera

nothing yet.

samantha carpenter

baby came home 2 || s.c.

false gods || s.c.

[spidermanstealyohoe]

false gods || s.c.

“we'd still worship this love” - false gods by taylor swift

__________

pairings: samantha carpenter x gn reader

summary: a snow day out with the older carpenter sister

warnings: fluff??

a/n: a lil sum

__________

__________

the snow started falling around midnight, thick flakes that caught the streetlight glow and turned the city into something softer, something almost magical. you’d been walking with sam for hours now, your footsteps the only sound echoing through the empty streets of manhattan. the usual chaos of new york had been muffled by the blanket of white, and for once, it felt like you had the whole world to yourselves.

sam’s cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, her dark hair peeking out from under a black beanie that had tiny snowflakes melting on it. she kept glancing over at you with this small, secret smile – the kind she only wore when she thought you weren’t looking. but you were always looking. how could you not be?

“remember when we were kids and snow days meant the world was ending?” she said, her breath coming out in little puffs of white. “like, one inch of snow and suddenly everything just… stopped.”

you nodded, watching her kick at a small pile of snow that had gathered against a fire hydrant. there was something about sam in the winter that made your chest feel tight in the best way. maybe it was how she seemed to glow against all that white, or how she got this childlike wonder in her eyes when the flakes started falling.

“feels like that now,” you replied, stuffing your hands deeper into your coat pockets. “like we’re the only people left in the city.”

she laughed, and the sound carried in the quiet air. “probably are. everyone else is smart enough to stay inside when it’s this cold.”

but neither of you made any move to head back. instead, you kept walking, past closed shops with their windows glowing warmly, past snow-covered cars that looked like sleeping animals, past the occasional taxi creeping carefully through the slush. the city felt transformed, like you’d stepped into some alternate version of new york where time moved slower and everything was painted in shades of silver and blue.

you found yourselves in washington square park, where the arch looked like something out of a fairy tale with snow gathering in all its carved details. the fountain was quiet, covered in a thick layer of white, and the trees stretched their bare branches up toward the falling flakes like they were trying to catch them.

sam stopped walking and tilted her head back, letting the snow fall on her face. her eyes were closed, and she had this expression of pure contentment that made something warm bloom in your chest despite the freezing air.

“what are you thinking about?” you asked, moving closer to her.

she opened her eyes and looked at you, snowflakes caught in her eyelashes. “just… this. us. how we keep finding ourselves in these perfect moments that feel too good to be real.”

there was something in her voice, something vulnerable and honest that made your heart skip. sam had always been guarded, careful with her words and her trust. but standing there in the snow, with the city quiet around you, she looked like she was on the verge of saying something important.

“sometimes i think i make you into something you’re not,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “like i put you on this pedestal and worship the idea of you instead of just… loving the real you.”

you reached out and brushed a snowflake from her cheek, your fingers lingering against her cold skin. “sam…”

“no, let me finish.” she stepped closer, close enough that you could see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes. “i spent so long being afraid of getting too attached, of making someone my whole world. but then you came along and suddenly nothing else mattered. and maybe that’s not fair to either of us.”

the snow kept falling around you, creating this cocoon of white that felt separate from the rest of the world. you could hear your heart beating, could feel the weight of her words settling between you.

“what if i want to be your whole world?” you said, your voice coming out rougher than intended. “what if i don’t care about pedestals or false gods or any of that? what if i just want to be here, in the snow, with you?”

something shifted in her expression then, like a wall coming down. she reached up and cupped your face in her gloved hands, her thumbs brushing across your cheekbones.

“then maybe we can just be human together,” she whispered. “messy and imperfect and real.”

when she kissed you, it tasted like winter and promises and something that felt suspiciously like forever. the snow fell heavier around you, but all you could focus on was the warmth of her mouth against yours, the way she melted into you like she’d been waiting for this moment her whole life.

when you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless and covered in snow. sam laughed, reaching up to brush flakes from your hair.

“we probably look ridiculous,” she said, but she was still smiling that secret smile.

“probably,” you agreed, pulling her closer as she spoke up against your lips. “but i don’t really care.”

she pressed her forehead against yours, and you stood there together in the falling snow, just breathing each other in. the city was still quiet around you, but it didn’t feel lonely anymore. it felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

“come on,” sam said eventually, taking your hand. “let’s go home and make hot chocolate and pretend we’re not going to regret staying out this late when we have to work tomorrow.”

but as you walked back through the snow-covered streets, her hand warm in yours despite the cold, you knew you wouldn’t regret a single second of this night. not the frozen fingers or the wet socks or the way you’d probably catch a cold from being out in the weather.

because this was real. messy and imperfect and absolutely perfect all at once.

just the way love was supposed to be.

[spidermanstealyohoe]

the one that got away || s.c.

“in another life, i would make you stay” - the one that got away by katy perry

again {1}

__________

parings: sabrina carpenter x gn reader

summary: where sabrina sees you everywhere she goes it’s like she can’t escape you and starts to regret everything she ever did to you

warnings: language, more angst, barry?

a/n: last part

__________

__________

it starts on the second week of tour.

the energy is electric. the crowd is packed. her name is in lights, her voice echoing through stadiums, festivals, sold-out venues.

but sabrina’s never felt so empty in her life. she should be proud. she should be happy. this is everything she’s worked for. everything she told herself she wanted. but the second her foot hits the stage, something in her chest pulls tight.

because she sees you.

she swears she sees you.

row seven, three seats from the end—there’s someone with your exact hair, your same hoodie, the one you wore every fucking day and for a terrifying, gut-wrenching second, sabrina freezes.

the music doesn’t. her dancers don’t. the crowd cheers like nothing’s wrong. but her hands shake on the mic stand, and her throat goes dry.

it’s not you. of course it’s not. she knows you wouldn’t come. she knows you shouldn’t but her brain doesn’t care about logic anymore. her heart is constantly playing tricks on her.

it’s not just shows, it’s parties, too. industry afterparties, rooftop hotel events, even in L.A. all these places she once dreamed about being seen at, now feel more like warzones for her mind. because every time she turns around, she looks for you.

every.fucking.time.

you used to hate parties, call them ‘pointless and loud’. you mostly said that because you never really went out until you met her and you always used to joke that every celebrity party is like a frat one on crack and she laughed and sometimes agreed.

but now? now it just feels… pointless. loud. fake.

and she’s stuck in this loop replaying what went wrong. trying to pinpoint the exact moment you slipped through her fingers.

it always comes back to him.

barry.

__________

flashback, eight months ago.

you’re sitting at the edge of her bed, fists clenched, face hard but your voice shaking. “you say he’s just a friend, sabrina, but i’m not fucking stupid.”

she scoffs from across the room. “barry’s been in my life for a couple of months, and he’s just a friend! why are you acting like we dry hump in front of you?”

“and suddenly you’re texting him at midnight? calling him on your off-days? going to ‘lunch’ for three hours and coming back smelling like his damn cologne?”

she rolls her eyes. “jesus christ, do you hear yourself?”

“yes, actually. i do. i sound like someone who’s being disrespected.”

she crosses her arms. “you’re being insecure.”

“no, i’m being honest. with you and i’m telling you this is killing me, sabrina.” you mirror her movements by crossing your arms as well.

there’s a silence. the kind that feels final and then she says the thing that will haunt her for months.

“if you can’t trust me, then maybe we shouldn’t be doing this.”

you flinch. physically. like she just slapped you. and then, quieter:

“are you serious right now?”

she doesn’t answer. she grabs her phone. her bag. her keys and she walks out and doesn’t even look back.

and who does she call? barry.

__________

the first time she sleeps with barry, it’s in a haze of vodka and bitterness. he makes her feel wanted, for a second. makes her forget how gutted she felt leaving your apartment with tears stinging her eyes.

but when she wakes up and reaches for him, he’s already half-dressed.

“you’re leaving?” she asks, voice scratchy, throat dry.

barry glances at her, pulling his hoodie over his head. “yeah. look, this was fun, but i’m not looking for anything complicated.”

her blood runs cold. “are you serious?”

he shrugs. “honestly? i just always wondered what it’d be like to hook up with you. i guess now i know.”

he doesn’t say goodbye. he doesn’t even look back. he left her like she left you. that’s when the guilt swallows her whole because she didn’t just lose you, no. she threw you away and for what? for someone who didn’t care. for some twisted idea of freedom. for ego.

__________

present day.

sabrina’s sitting on the floor of her hotel room in miami, legs crossed, stage makeup wiped half-off, hair in a limp ponytail, a glass of wine on the nightstand that’s long since gone warm.

her phone buzzes once. then again. paloma sent her a reel. corey commented on her latest photo. she doesn’t care or at least not tonight.

out of habit, she opens instagram. scrolls. scrolls. scrolls, and then she sees it.

you.

at a park somewhere in silver lake, smile wide, sun in your eyes and next to you wrapped around your arm is a girl sabrina doesn’t recognize. she’s laughing, leaning into you. your hand is on her back, fingers curled the same way they used to be when you held sabrina.

her heart stops. literally. physically. for a moment, all she can hear is static as she zooms in and just stares.

your eyes.

your smile.

your happiness.

it’s not hers anymore. without even realizing it, the tears are falling, not soft ones, either, not cinematic ones. they fall ugly, fast and hot and with a kind of force that makes her whole body shake.

she presses her hands to her mouth, trying not to sob out loud.

this is her fault.

all of it.

you loved her. you never asked her to be anything but herself. you never tried to change her or dim her or own her. you just wanted to be by her side. and she pushed you away, lied to you, cheated on you with someone who didn’t care.

and now you’re gone. really gone. not in a dramatic, maybe-we’ll-find-our-way-back way.

no, this is different.

this is you moved on. you’re happy. you’re loved by someone who isn’t her and sabrina?

sabrina is alone in a five-star hotel with everything she thought she wanted; money, fame, crowds chanting her name and not a single person who can make her feel whole.

you were the only real thing. the only true thing and she let you go.

__________

that night, she doesn’t sleep.

she lies in the hotel bed, staring at the ceiling, phone screen dim beside her, still open on your photo.

she wants to text you. wants to say i’m sorry again, wants to say i wish i hadn’t walked out, wants to scream i loved you and i still do and i was stupid and scared and selfish.

but she doesn’t.

because she knows you’re not hers to reach for anymore. she already got her chance and she ruined it.

and now? now there’s no more second chance. just silence and a thousand faces in the crowd that will never be you.

[spidermanstealyohoe]

again || s.c.

“you don't know what you got 'til it's gone, my dear” - again by noah cyrus ft xxxtentacion

the one that got away {2}

__________

pairings: sabrina carpenter x gn reader

summary: in which sabrina starts to realize what she lost after all this time

warnings: language, angst

a/n: short but had to write sum

__________

__________

los angeles is loud tonight.

not just in the usual, chaotic kind of way—traffic snarls and impatient horns echoing off canyon roads—but in a suffocating, emotional kind of way. like every sound is a reminder. like the city itself remembers you.

sabrina’s in the back of a black suv, legs curled up, head leaning against the window. her friends—corey in the passenger seat, paloma beside her in the back are talking about something funny that happened at the bar. something about a guy mistaking corey for a valet. paloma laughs so loud it rattles inside sabrina’s skull. she forces a smile.

she doesn’t drink much tonight. one tequila soda, and then water the rest of the night. she used to drink more when she was with you. something about your presence gave her permission to relax. to fall apart in private.

now everything feels staged. posed. photos snapped at just the right angle so no one sees how empty her eyes are.

corey glances back at her. “you good?”

she nods, too quick. “yeah. tired.”

but tired isn’t the word. it’s not even close.

she’s haunted.

by your voice. your laugh. the way you’d pull her closer in public even when she insisted she wasn’t a pda person. by the way you always made room for her. how you never made her feel like she had to compete, or chase, or prove.

but she didn’t know how to accept love like that. not then and she knows she’s the one who let you go.

she thought she needed space. thought she needed time to figure herself out. and maybe she did but in the process, she unraveled everything good she had with you.

__________

the car slows near laurel canyon. paloma’s leaning against corey now, half-asleep, murmuring something about stopping for in-n-out. sabrina isn’t listening.

because outside the window, the skyline looks like a memory she can’t hold onto and suddenly, she’s remembering a night just like this one.

same road.

same moonlight.

same heat lingering in the air like something half-spoken.

you were in the driver’s seat, windows down, your playlist humming low through the speakers—some mix of mazzy star and frank ocean. sabrina had her bare feet on the dash, your hoodie drowning her frame. you reached over at a red light and rested your hand on her knee. casual. thoughtless. home.

and she didn’t say it then, but god, she wanted to.

i think i’m falling in love with you again. like it wasn’t constant. like it ever stopped.

__________

“sabrina,” corey says gently, “you sure you’re okay?”

she turns toward him. her voice breaks on the first word. “can you just—can we drive around a little more?”

he nods. he doesn’t ask. he knows better.

they drive. into the hills away from noise.

paloma’s out cold now, arms crossed like a kid in a nap. the windows are fogged a little from the ac and the stillness inside the car.

sabrina watches the city sprawl below them, eyes full of ghosts.

“i don’t think i’ll ever get over them,” she says quietly.

corey doesn’t react right away. “you don’t have to,” he finally says.

sabrina swallows. her voice is paper-thin. “i thought i’d feel free. like, once i had space. once i wasn’t in their orbit anymore.”

“but?”

“but i feel like i lost everything that actually mattered.”

and now it’s all coming back.

how you never once raised your voice at her. how you waited, even when she shut down, pulled away, threw walls up. how you always came back. until you didn’t.

and she knew you had every right to leave. you loved her like she was made of light and potential. like you saw her in a way she couldn’t see herself and she resented you for it. hated that you made her feel so seen. but now?

now she just misses it.

__________

it’s nearly 3am when she texts you. just two words.

i’m sorry.

no punctuation. no follow-up. she stares at it for a while before she hits send, thumb hovering like maybe it’s too late. maybe you’ve moved on. maybe you’ve found someone who doesn’t shut down when things get too real.

but she sends it anyway and then she types again.

i never stopped loving you.

sabrina knows you probably won’t respond. knows she broke more than just the relationship. she broke you but there’s something about admitting it out loud. about saying it to the night. about letting herself sit in it.

the regret.

the longing.

the aching truth that you were the only one who ever really saw her past the stardom, past the pressure, past the walls.

she thought she needed the world. but what she needed was you. just you.

and now, all she can do is sit in the back of this car, next to her sleeping friends, and whisper your name like a prayer.

hoping, somehow, you’ll say it back. hoping that maybe just maybe…

you’ll come back again.

[spidermanstealyohoe]

hold it together || t.c.

“i got a feelin' that i wanna be there with you, nobody else will ever do” - hold it together by the marias

calling u back {1} | real life {2}

__________

parings: tara carpenter x gn reader

summary: in which tara wants you bad but you don’t give in because you’re not ready for commitment

warnings: slight angst, arguing, crying?, language

a/n: last part for this lil mini series, decided to give em a happy ending cuz i’m nice like dat🤗

__________

__________

the fluorescent lights of the lecture hall were criminal. too bright, too white, too loud.

your head throbbed like a jackhammer had set up camp behind your eyes, and your stomach swirled with every regret you tried to drown in bourbon the night before.

you barely made it to class dragged your body across campus, hoodie up, sunglasses on even indoors. you slumped into the building and shuffled your way down the aisle toward your seat like you were walking into a funeral.

because in a way… you were.

you saw her the second you walked in.

tara slouched in her chair, arms crossed tight across her chest like a wall. she wasn’t looking at anything just staring ahead, lips pressed into a line, eyes glassy but dry.

she looked miserable and unfortunately for you, your nameplate was right next to hers.

assigned seats.

you cursed under your breath and dropped into your chair like a bag of bricks, trying not to even breathe in her direction. your knee brushed hers by accident and she flinched not much, just a twitch but it was enough to make you recoil instantly.

you didn’t say anything. of course you didn’t.

neither did she.

you sat there in silence, inches apart, a war between you where neither of you had the guts to fire the first shot.

your hands were shaking from the hangover, from the weight, from everything you didn’t say.

tara didn’t look at you once. not once and god, it hurt more than if she had screamed at you.

you tried to focus on the professor’s voice. something about shot composition, color theory, visual subtext… but it all sounded like static. every word bounced off the inside of your skull, lost in the ache and the guilt.

you glanced sideways, just once. her jaw was clenched. her eyes were hollow. she looked like she hadn’t slept. like her whole world had cracked open and you were the reason.

and still somewhere under it all you swore she was still holding onto hope.

but she didn’t speak. she didn’t look.

so you sat there. hungover. hollow. hurting. wishing this wasn’t your seat. wishing you weren’t you.

and beside you, tara sat in silence, arms folded tighter, heart aching louder because no matter how much you pretended not to feel it…

she still did.

later, class ended in a blur of notebooks closing, chairs scraping, and voices rising in idle chatter.

you didn’t move right away.

you sat there, frozen, staring at the professor’s final slide, like if you just stared long enough, you’d somehow delay the inevitable. your stomach twisted. throat dry. head still pounding from the night before, but none of it compared to the pressure building in your chest the longer you sat next to her without saying a damn word.

tara hadn’t shifted either.

her fingers were locked tightly around the strap of her bag in her lap, knuckles white, lips pursed together in a line of barely contained pain. you didn’t need to look at her to know how tense she was you could feel it radiating off her like static.

then, like some cruel joke from the universe, you both stood at the exact same time.

you turned.

she turned.

and she bumped straight into your chest soft, sudden, so close you could smell her shampoo.

your hands instinctively reached out, grabbing her elbows to steady her, but she immediately jerked back from your touch. her eyes shot up to yours, wide, glassy, and that was when everything stopped.

you stared at each other. seconds passed. then more. longer than they should’ve.

it was like time folded in on itself, like the noise of the classroom disappeared. there was only her eyes locked with yours so full of hurt, love, disappointment, and something too deep to name. your mouth parted, unsure if you were about to say something or if your body just forgot how to breathe.

and then… she let out a small, broken sob.

not loud. not dramatic.

just a sound like something inside her cracked. and without another word, she pushed past you and ran.

you stood there, arm half-lifted, helpless and useless as you watched her disappear into the crowd of students flooding out the doors.

your throat closed. your feet didn’t move. your heart ached like someone had reached into your chest and wrung it dry.

and for the first time in a long time you realized you were just as broken as she was and maybe it was finally too late to fix it.

“shit.”

__________

you had skipped the rest of your classes.

you couldn’t sit through another hour of pretending your chest wasn’t caving in. after tara ran out of the lecture hall, something in you cracked too. something final. you walked out like a ghost, not even telling chad or ethan where you were going. your body carried you back to the dorm, but your mind hadn’t caught up.

now you sat on your bed, hoodie still on, lights off, the only sound in the room was the low hum of your mini fridge and the buzzing silence in your head. you hadn’t moved in hours.

and then…

BANG. BANG. BANG.

your head shot up. more pounding, loud and relentless, rattling your door in its frame. your heart jumped into your throat.

you froze. the knocking wasn’t casual. it was violent. furious.

you crept toward the door like something was waiting to bite you on the other side and looked through the peephole.

sam.

fuck.

your stomach dropped. you stepped back from the door instinctively like it had caught fire.

more banging.

“open the door.”

you hesitated, your hand trembling as it hovered over the knob. sam wasn’t just pissed she was something beyond that. you could feel it through the door.

with a deep breath, you unlocked it and opened it slowly. you barely got a word out before sam shoved the door wide and pushed her way in, eyes blazing.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” she snapped, marching straight into your space. “what the hell did you do to her?”

you stumbled back, shocked by the force of her voice more than anything.

“sam—”

“no,” she cut you off. “don’t ‘sam’ me. she hasn’t stopped crying since last night. she won’t eat. won’t sleep. do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

your lower back hit the edge of your desk as you stumbled back into your desk chair, nowhere to retreat.

“i know,” you whispered, voice cracking.

“no, you don’t.” sam’s finger jabbed toward your chest. “you don’t get to be the reason she shatters and then sit here in your cave hiding from it.”

you lowered your eyes, guilt sitting like a stone in your gut.

“it’s too late, sam.” your voice was low, bitter. tired.“i already lost her.”

sam stared at you like you’d just spoken in another language.

“you think she’s gone?” she scoffed, stepping back. “you’re dead wrong.”

you looked up, startled.

“do you know what she did last night, after you stood there and let her run off crying?” sam’s voice cracked now too not with anger, but exhaustion.

“she stayed up until sunrise sitting on the bathroom floor, hugging her knees, whispering your name like it was the only word she still remembered how to say.”

your breath caught.

“she still loves you.” sam said it plainly, like it was the simplest truth in the world. “she still wants you and god knows why because if i was her, i wouldn’t waste a second on you after what you did.”

you sank down into the desk chair, hands gripping the edge, the weight of it all crashing back over you like a tidal wave.

“i don’t know how to be what she wants, sam,” you confessed, looking at the floor. “i don’t do love. i don’t do feelings. and she deserves so much better than someone like me.”

sam knelt slightly, getting on your level, voice softer now.

“she doesn’t want better. she wants you. even when you push her away, even when it breaks her.”

you shook your head, blinking fast. “what if i break her again?”

sam sighed, her expression finally softening.

“don’t.”

“you don’t get infinite chances,” she said after a moment, her voice firm, controlled. “not with someone like tara.”

you looked up slowly. she wasn’t yelling anymore. that was worse.

“you think she’s tough—and she is—but when it comes to people she lets in?” sam’s jaw clenched. “she breaks easy. she won’t admit it, but she does.”

you swallowed, guilt tightening in your throat.

“and you,” sam went on, stepping closer, “you knew that. you saw how much she cared about you. and you let her chase you until she collapsed.”

you winced, her words digging like knives under your skin.

“i didn’t mean to—”

“intent doesn’t fix hurt,” she snapped, cutting you off again. “it’s not enough to be sorry. you either show up, or you don’t. no halfway bullshit. no ‘i don’t do feelings’ crap. because if you want to be in her life… this is it. this is your last chance.”

the words hung in the air like smoke. and they burned. you sat back, head tilted toward the ceiling, heart pounding so loud it filled the silence.

“i’m scared,” you admitted. quiet. honest.

sam nodded. “yeah so is she. every second.” she paused. “but she’d still give you everything, if you asked.”

you looked over at her then. the protective older sister, the one with the always-on edge stare and the walls that matched yours brick for brick.

“why are you even telling me this?” you asked. “why not just keep me away?”

sam’s gaze was level. “because if you don’t get your shit together and fix this… she’ll never stop loving you. and that will destroy her worse than anything you’ve already done.”

you blinked. “and if i do try?”

sam sighed softly. “then don’t just try. show up. prove her wrong about the world. for once.”

a beat of silence.

then:

“i mean it,” she said, turning toward the door. “this is your last chance. don’t fuck it up.”

and with that, she left. leaving you alone in the mess you made and the chance you still had to clean it up.

__________

your dorm felt too small. too quiet. too filled with your own nervous pacing. back and forth, back and forth across the creaky wooden floor, one hand buried in your hoodie pocket while the other gripped the stems of a slightly crushed bouquet you weren’t even sure matched her favorite colors.

you had no idea what you were doing.

your head was still pounding dull and mean, the aftermath of too many shots and not enough water but the hangover wasn’t what had you sweating.

it was the fear. the guilt. the hope you didn’t deserve to have.

you stopped at the door again, stared at it like it was going to open by itself and tell you what the hell you were supposed to say.

you looked down at the flowers half-wilted daisies and pink tulips, wrapped in tissue you found at the campus corner store. not perfect. not even close. but they were something. and it had to count for something, right?

you took a breath. then paced back again. the words you kept rehearsing in your head didn’t sound right anymore. none of it did.

you weren’t the kind of person who gave flowers. or apologized. or… felt things out loud.

but she broke you open in a way no one else ever had.

and it wasn’t until last night when she sobbed and ran, when you sat in the dark while sam tore through your walls with truth after truth that you finally realized you couldn’t pretend anymore.

you wanted her in every messy, terrifying, vulnerable way.

you sat down on the edge of your bed, resting your elbows on your knees as the flowers drooped slightly in your grip.

you muttered under your breath, a half-laugh at yourself, shaking your head with a bitter smile. “this is stupid.” your heart didn’t stop racing.

the rain tapped against the window like a metronome, counting down the time you were wasting.

you didn’t know what you were going to say. you didn’t know if she’d slam the door in your face. you didn’t know if she’d ever forgive you.

but you knew you had to try. because for the first time you weren’t running away. you were walking into it for her and you were soaked before you even made it to your car.

the rain hadn’t let up.

your hoodie was soaked through, your sneakers squished with every step, and the flowers were hanging onto life by a thread. it didn’t matter. none of it mattered. the only thing that did was the apartment door in front of you and the girl on the other side of it who still haunted your chest like a ghost.

you hesitated. just for a second. then raised your hand and knocked. there was shuffling from inside then the door cracked open.

sam.

she looked… stunned at first. brows raised, lips parting like she didn’t expect to actually see you standing there. and then that expression shifted into something softer relief, maybe, mixed with something she didn’t want you to see.

she glanced down at the now-soaking flowers in your hand. then back up at your drenched form.

“…you look like hell,” she said quietly.

you let out a short breath, maybe a laugh, maybe not. “feel like it too.”

a long pause.

then she stepped aside.

“she’s in her room.” her voice gentled, barely above a whisper now. “door’s closed, but not locked.”

you swallowed.

“you sure about this?”

sam nodded once, firm and absolute.

“yeah. but if you walk in there and break her again…” she gave you a look. the kind that carried real weight.

“i won’t,” you said, and you meant it with your whole chest.

“not this time.”

sam studied you for another beat, like she was checking for cracks. and whatever she saw it was enough. she stepped back and gave a small nod toward the hallway.

“go. before she convinces herself you’re never coming.”

you moved past her, your heart slamming against your ribs with each step toward that door. you stopped just outside it, staring at the faint light glowing underneath, the muffled sound of rain against the window on the other side.

you reached up slow, shaky and tapped your knuckles once against the wood.

silence.

then the tiniest voice, muffled but unmistakable:

“…yeah?”

you exhaled.

“it’s me.”

a pause. then the sound of sheets shifting. soft footsteps. the door opened just a crack at first and there she was.

tara.

messy hair. swollen eyes. your hoodie. the one she must’ve never given back.

she blinked at you. lips parting. she didn’t speak.

you lifted the soggy bouquet with an awkward shrug. “uh… these looked better earlier.” her eyes dropped to the flowers then flicked back to your face.

neither of you spoke, not yet but the door opened a little wider.

tara stood in front of you, arms folded across her chest like she was trying to hold herself together but her lip was already trembling. her eyes flicked from your face to your hand, to the wilted flowers dripping onto the floor between you.

you didn’t say anything at first. you couldn’t. neither of you moved. it felt like time was daring you to speak.

“can i come in?” your voice was soft. unsure. ready to be told to leave.

tara hesitated for a breath. two.

then she opened the door fully and stepped aside.

you walked in, slow, like if you moved too fast you’d scare her off. the warmth of her room wrapped around you quiet, lived-in, scented faintly of vanilla and her shampoo. the lights were low, and her comforter was still rumpled from where she’d been curled up.

she closed the door behind you but didn’t speak.

you stood there with the dying bouquet in hand until she took them from you silently, staring at them like they were foreign. then she set them gently on the dresser like they still meant something.

and when she finally turned to face you, her eyes were already glassy. her chest rising and falling faster.

“why?” she said, barely above a whisper. “why are you here?”

you blinked. “because i need to fix this.”

that broke something.

“now?” she snapped, voice raw. “now you want to fix it? after everything?”

“i know—”

“no. no, you don’t.”

her voice cracked, rising, “you don’t know what it’s like to love someone who keeps pushing you away. to feel like you’re not good enough just because they don’t know how to let you in.”

you looked down, guilt sinking its claws deeper into your spine. she wasn’t done.

“i gave you everything i had, and you—you just sat there. you let me humiliate myself over and over and you didn’t even flinch.”

a tear slid down her cheek. “i begged you, in every way that wasn’t saying it out loud, to just… care back.”

“i did,” you said quickly, finally looking her in the eye. “i do.”

“then why didn’t you ever show it?” her voice cracked. “why did i have to feel like the crazy one? like i was chasing something that didn’t exist?”

you stepped forward instinctively, but she backed up, like touching you might make it worse. you nodded slowly. you deserved every word. every sob.

“because i was scared,” you said, quiet. “because every time i looked at you, i felt something i didn’t know how to handle and instead of figuring it out, i ran. i always run.”

“and you left me to pick up the pieces,” she whispered. “again and again.”

you felt your chest tighten.

“i didn’t mean to hurt you, tara.”

“but you did.”

that one hurt more than anything else.

she sat down on the edge of her bed, finally letting the tears come. soft, muffled sobs as her shoulders shook.

you stayed where you were. you didn’t try to hug her. you didn’t try to say something perfect.

you let her cry because she deserved to. after a moment, her voice broke through the quiet, strained and low.

“i hated you yesterday.” she looked at her hands. “i wanted to hate you so badly.”

you nodded.

“you should have.”

“but i didn’t.” her eyes finally met yours again. “and i still don’t. and that’s the part that hurts the most.”

you sat down across from her, not too close, just enough. your voice cracked when you spoke next. “i never thought someone like you could love someone like me.” you wiped your face, not realizing you’d started crying too.

“i thought if i let you love me, i’d ruin you. i thought keeping you at a distance was the kindest thing i could do.”

tara shook her head, frustrated and breaking.

“but you did ruin me. you just did it while pretending you weren’t there.”

silence.

then you reached out slowly and gently rested your hand between you on the bed.

not touching her just… there. an invitation.

“i’m here now,” you said. “not just to apologize. not just because sam threatened me.”

a dry laugh escaped her, “i’m here because you’re the only person who’s ever made me want to stop running.” her bottom lip trembled.

“i don’t know how to trust you again,” she whispered.

“i know,” you said. “and i’m not asking for everything all at once. i’m just asking for the chance to earn it, the slow way, the real way.”

a beat passed and then tara leaned forward, just a little. her fingers brushed yours, your breath caught in your throat.

“if i let you in this time…” her voice was soft. fragile. “you can’t leave. not even a little.”

you nodded, eyes never leaving hers. “i won’t. not again. not ever.”

a long silence then she reached for you.

and this time, when she broke again when the sobs came full and real into your chest you were finally there to hold her.

no more running. no more pretending. just you, and her, and the storm between you both finally starting to clear.

a few moments later, the rain had quieted by now, tapering off into soft drops tapping against the window like the final beats of a storm that had finally given up.

you didn’t know how long you and tara had been sitting like that her in your arms, your hand gently combing through her hair as her breathing slowly calmed in your hoodie-covered chest. neither of you had said much in the last few minutes. there wasn’t anything left to scream, or cry, or beg for. the silence now was something earned. something healing.

eventually, tara pulled back just enough to look at you.

her eyes were still red, lashes clumped together from crying, cheeks raw and flushed but she was beautiful. painfully so. especially like this, unguarded and real.

you brushed a strand of hair from her face. she leaned into the touch without hesitation.

“i meant what i said,” you murmured. “i don’t know how to do this kind of stuff. the soft stuff. the whole… relationship thing.”

she studied you carefully.

“i know.”

you looked down, a nervous chuckle slipping past your lips. then you looked back up at her to see a small smile tugging at her lips.

there it was that smile. the one she gave you when she was about to tease you, or flirt with you, or destroy your entire emotional stability in one breath.

“you’ve got a lot of learning to do,” she said softly. “but lucky for you…” she leaned in just enough that her nose nearly brushed yours. “i’ve decided i’m going to teach you.”

you blinked, eyes narrowing with a tiny smirk. “are you now?”

“mhmm.” she nodded like it was fact. “starting with holding hands. then forehead kisses. cuddles. good morning texts. maybe even god forbid matching halloween costumes.”

“you’re sick.”

“and you’re mine.”

that stopped everything in your chest. just those two words.

you’re mine.

you swallowed, and suddenly it wasn’t so hard to breathe. because maybe for once, being someone’s didn’t sound like a trap.

it sounded like freedom.

she cupped your cheek gently, her thumb tracing the curve of your jaw as you held her waist. “you really gonna make me do all the cheesy couple stuff?”

she grinned now eyes gleaming with something both playful and tender.

“oh, you have no idea.”

you laughed through your nose and shook your head slightly and then you kissed her.

it was slow at first. hesitant. like your lips were still learning the shape of hers, like you were both afraid the moment might vanish if you leaned in too fast.

but then her hands curled into your hair. your fingers slid under her hoodie. and that hesitation melted into something real. something needy. hot. honest.

like all the built-up tension, all the times you didn’t let yourself feel it, were flooding out of both of you in that kiss. the kind that made your stomach twist, the kind that felt like fireworks bursting in your ribs.

you pulled her closer, impossibly close, and she climbed into your lap without thinking, lips never leaving yours. every part of her felt like home. like something you’d been scared to want but craved all the same.

when you finally pulled back for air, you were both breathless, grinning, flushed.

“see?” she whispered against your lips. “lovey-dovey stuff’s not so bad.”

you let out a soft, dazed laugh, “now you’re gonna ruin me.” tara smiled, forehead resting against yours.

“good. someone’s gotta.” and for once, you didn’t feel afraid. you felt lucky.

because if love had a face, if safety had a heartbeat, if healing had a name, it was her and she was holding you like she had no plans of letting go.

[spidermanstealyohoe]

real life || t.c.

“can't stay forever this way, i’ll break i won't be the same” - real life by the marias

calling u back {1} | hold it together {3}

__________

pairings: tara carpenter x gn reader

summary: in which tara wants you bad but you don’t give in because you’re not ready for commitment

warnings: language, angst, heavy drinking r

__________

__________

you barely remembered the ride back to the apartment.

just the muffled sound of chad nervously drumming his fingers on the window, ethan clearing his throat every five seconds, and tara breathing too quietly in the seat in front of you. mindy drove like she had something to prove, gripping the wheel like it was your neck she wanted to wring.

the weed and alcohol swirled together in your veins, buzzing behind your eyes, making the world soft and spinny. when you finally stumbled through the front door, everything felt heavier like even gravity had turned against you.

tara didn’t wait around.

she went straight to her room with her head down, not even sparing you a glance. she shut the door with a click that might as well have been a slam. you flinched like she’d hit you.

the others filtered off quietly. anika walking towards the living room and chad following as he flopped on the couch. ethan muttered something about water. but you?

you just stood there, walking towards the kitchen as you leaned against the counter like it was the only thing holding you upright.

mindy didn’t say anything at first. she just watched you.

then she sighed, pulled her hoodie off, and crossed the room until she was standing in front of you arms folded, jaw clenched, eyes sharp.

“you’re lucky she loves you,” she said finally. “because if it were up to me, i’d have left your dumb ass at that party.”

you scoffed, blinking slow. “don’t need a lecture right now, mindy.”

“yeah, you do.” her tone cut clean. “because you’re fucked out of your mind and still trying to convince yourself that you don’t care when everyone in this apartment knows you do.”

you rubbed your hands over your face. the high was getting muddy, dizzying, like a dream you couldn’t wake up from.

“it’s not that simple,”

“it is.”

she stepped closer. “you love her. she loves you. that’s the whole story but you’d rather drown it in weed and vodka than just admit you’re scared.”

you stared past her. your chest was too tight. the kitchen light was too bright. everything felt too much.

“you don’t know what it’s like in my head,” you said quietly. “you don’t know what loving someone costs me.”

mindy’s face softened. just a little.

“no i don’t but i know what it’s costing her.” she pointed toward tara’s room. “she’s in there thinking she’s not enough. thinking she’s the problem and all because you’re too afraid to try.”

you closed your eyes. your throat burned. mindy didn’t yell. she didn’t push. she just stepped back, letting her words settle.

“you don’t have to be perfect,” she said. “but you do have to be honest. and if you’re not ready to love her, fine. but don’t make her wait around like she’s your backup plan because she’s not.”

you didn’t move. you just breathed. shallow. uneven. mindy waited a beat, then turned and walked toward her room, leaving you alone in the kitchen still leaning, still too far gone, still breaking in a way you didn’t know how to fix.

and behind that closed door, tara curled into herself under the covers, tears hot against her cheeks, whispering your name like a prayer you never meant to answer.

but god, she still loved you. even now. even like this. and maybe that was the cruelest part of all.

the dorm smelled like cheap air freshener, leftover pizza, and denial. you’d made it back with chad and ethan a few hours after mindy’s lecture. no one said anything on the uber back to the dorm—just quiet footsteps and streetlights stretching shadows over everything. your buzz hadn’t worn off. if anything, it got worse. heavier. louder. like your thoughts were echoing inside your skull.

now, you stood in front of the tiny liquor cabinet you and chad had irresponsibly stocked at the beginning of the semester, pulling out whatever bottle your fingers landed on first.

rum.

vodka.

tequila.

didn’t matter. you unscrewed the cap and downed it like water.

your throat burned, your eyes watered, and your chest ached but that ache wasn’t the alcohol’s fault. it was hers. it was always her.

behind you, chad looked up from the floor, where he and ethan were half-heartedly watching a basketball game neither of them actually cared about.

“yo,” he said cautiously. “maybe slow down a little?” you ignored him. took another swig. this one longer.

“you good?” ethan asked, voice small, nervous. he never knew what to say when you got like this.

you laughed under your breath—dry and humorless.

“never better.”

“dude,” chad stood up now, walking over slowly. “is this about tara? because—”

“don’t.”

you didn’t need him saying her name. not when you were already drowning in it.

you reached for another bottle this one bourbon and took a gulp before the last one could even settle. the room spun, and maybe that was the point.

“you know,” you said bitterly, gesturing vaguely with the bottle, “it’s crazy how someone can look at you like you hung the stars, and you still find a way to ruin it.”

“i’m not built for that lovey dovey crap,” you muttered, leaning your head back against the wall. “she wants fairy tales and hand-holding and… and fuckin’ good morning texts. i don’t know how to be that.”

“she didn’t ask you to be perfect,” chad said, quieter now. “she just wanted you. the real you.”

you scoffed. “the real me? this is the real me… this is.” you lifted the bottle, the amber liquid sloshing around like your insides.

“the real me walks away when people get too close.”

silence.

for a moment, all you could hear was the announcer on the TV and the dull hum of your heart trying not to shatter.

“she still loves you, you know.” it was ethan this time. soft. careful.

you paused.

you didn’t say anything, but your fingers clenched a little tighter around the neck of the bottle.

of course she did. that was the problem.

you took one more long drink, hoping the burn would be enough to erase her name from your chest but it wasn’t because no matter how much you drank, no matter how much you ran,

tara carpenter was the one thing you couldn’t black out. and deep down, buried under every defense you built, you didn’t want to.

__________

the apartment was quiet in that eerie, sad kind of way. not peaceful just… heavy. like the walls were holding their breath.

tara sat curled up on her bed, wrapped in her comforter like armor, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed from crying harder than she ever wanted to admit. the room was dark, lit only by the dim glow of the streetlight bleeding through her blinds. the party dress she’d worn hours ago still clung to her like a ghost of a night that went completely wrong.

mindy and anika were still in the living room as mindy was pacing back and fourth. sam had come out of the shower ten minutes ago, towel-drying her hair, completely unaware of what had gone down. her brows were furrowed when she saw mindy pacing now like a frantic man looking for food.

“what happened?” sam asked flatly.

mindy didn’t sugarcoat. “your sister’s heart just got shattered. that’s what and y/n didn’t say anything just let her fall watched her do it.”

anika tried to cut in softly, “mindy-“

sam’s jaw clenched. instantly. “what do you mean they just let her—” mindy started to explain everything that had gone down.

meanwhile, tara shut her eyes and buried her face deeper into the blanket. she hated that she couldn’t stop. hated that her chest still ached every time she thought of you just standing there… not following… not even trying and still god, she still wanted you.

her door creaked open.

“tara?” sam’s voice was soft, cautious. tara didn’t respond just sniffled and shifted further into herself.

she felt the mattress dip as her sister sat beside her. gentle fingers brushed through her hair, and for a second, tara let herself melt into the contact something safe, something familiar. but it wasn’t what she needed.

not really.

“mindy told me what happened,” sam said. “talk to me. please.”

tara shook her head.

“i don’t want to talk.”

“okay.” sam was patient. she always was when it mattered. “can i just sit with you then?”

silence.

and then, barely above a whisper: “i didn’t mean for it to go like that.”

sam waited.

“i dragged some random guy upstairs, just to make them jealous,” tara confessed, her voice cracking like glass. “and they didn’t even blink. they didn’t care.”

sam’s hand stilled in her hair. “i’m sure that’s not true.”

“it is.”

tara sat up now, wiping her cheeks with the sleeve of her hoodie. “they looked right through me. like i didn’t mean anything. like i was just… a girl at a party.”

sam’s brows furrowed, her chest clenching. she didn’t know what to say didn’t want to say the wrong thing.

“you’re not that kind of person, tara.”

“i know.” her voice broke. “but i love them. i love them so bad it hurts. and they just keep pushing me away. and no matter how much it breaks me, i still… want them.” her lips trembled, and her hands twisted in the blanket.

“i only want them.”

sam stared at her little sister her brave, stubborn, beautifully guarded little sister and felt something helpless crawl into her throat. she hated this. hated that someone had the power to do this to tara. hated that tara had let them in that deep.

but what she hated most… was that she could see it too. how much you meant to her. how much you didn’t even realize it.

“if they’re the reason you’re hurting like this,” sam said carefully, “maybe they’re not—”

“don’t say it,” tara cut in, shaking her head. “don’t. they’re not bad. they’re just scared. i know it.” and that’s what wrecked sam the most.

that even through the tears, even through the silence, and the bruised hope. tara still defended you. still chose you.

tara still wanted you even now. especially now. and whether you deserved it or not that kind of love didn’t just go away.

[spidermanstealyohoe]

calling u back || t.c.

“don’t wanna be alone, 'cause you do me like that, why would you do me like that?” - calling u back by the marias

real life {2} | hold it together {3}

__________

pairings: tara carpenter x gn reader

summary: in which tara wants you bad but you don’t give in because you’re not ready for commitment

warnings: language, drug use, alcohol? little angst

a/n: been stuck in my drafts forever, might make pt 2

__________

__________

you didn’t know how you ended up here, but here you were. some sweaty frat house that reeked of beer, bad cologne, and burnt weed. the bass of the music rattled through the floor, through your chest even, but you were too far gone to care. the couch beneath you had swallowed your body whole. your legs were lazily sprawled over anika’s lap, who was cuddled up with mindy, both giggling about something you couldn’t hear—didn’t even want to.

you took another drag from your joint, letting the smoke swirl around lazily before disappearing into the stifling air. your eyes fixated on the cracked ceiling above, your brain humming, thoughts dull and slow. everything was toned out—the people, the music, the distant shout of chad probably giving ethan another one of his infamous “flirting 101” lectures, quinn’s laugh from a back room, likely tangled up with tonight’s host. it was all just noise now.

you didn’t move, didn’t speak. your high had you still, but your mind wasn’t quiet. it never really was.

then it happened again.

eyes. you felt them. even in this state, you felt her. you turned your head just slightly, just enough to see her. tara.

she was dancing with some guy, shirt too tight, grin too wide but she wasn’t looking at him. no. her eyes were locked on you.

those big, brown, doe eyes.

you raised a brow at her, the look on your face calm but clear: “what? stop looking at me.”

but she didn’t. she wouldn’t.

tara didn’t care that you never looked back. she didn’t care that she knew your stance on relationships, knew the reasons you kept everyone at arm’s length. she didn’t care that you warned her months ago, voice low and honest when you said, “i’m not good at that kind of stuff, tara.”

because to her, that wasn’t a red light. that was a challenge. and you? you were the prize.

tall, confident, quiet but with this magnetic energy that pulled people in whether you liked it or not. there was something about the way you held your silence that drove her crazy. like you were in your own world and everyone else had to beg to be let in. you weren’t cruel, you were kind, even soft at times—but emotionally? locked up tight.

you didn’t flirt with her. not really. but god, you were always gentle with her.

that night she cut her palm open helping quinn fix a broken drawer, you were the one who cleaned the blood off her hand. didn’t say much, just moved with care, patching her up like it was the most natural thing in the world.

you made her feel seen. even if you barely looked at her.

and tonight? she’d tried to distract herself—thus, tight shirt guy. but he didn’t matter. he wasn’t you. he never could be. because even stoned out of your mind, even when your eyes were half-lidded and your body melted into the couch, you still had her completely hooked.

you turned your head back to the ceiling again, took another slow puff, ignoring the ache in your chest that came every time she looked at you like that. like she was trying to break through. like she wanted more.

you didn’t let people in. you had your reasons. and tara deserved someone who could give her all the things you couldn’t.

but she didn’t see it that way. not at all. and as the night went on, and her eyes refused to leave your face, you started to wonder—what would it hurt to look back just one more time?

maybe you were too high, maybe it was the way her lips curled when she smiled at you across a room full of strangers. but a small part of you wanted to give in. just a little.

just… for her. but you can’t…

you were still on that couch.

same position, same heavy limbs, same slow breaths clouded with smoke. your eyes had glazed over, the weed giving everything a soft, distant glow. it helped. it always helped. the world didn’t demand much from you when you were like this.

tara was still dancing with that guy. his hand on her hip, leaning close, whispering something in her ear. she laughed. or maybe she pretended to. you didn’t care. you didn’t. not really.

but her eyes were still on you. always on you. and that’s what messed you up.

you took another pull from your joint and let it sit on your tongue before exhaling it through your nose. every inhale was a delay. every puff a distraction. you didn’t do feelings. not like that. not the romantic, tangled-up, messy kind that left people wrecked in the end.

you were careful with people. distant, but kind. protective, but never possessive. you didn’t let anyone close enough to ruin you, and you sure as hell wouldn’t ruin someone else—not her. especially not her.

so you kept your face blank, your breathing slow, your body melted into the couch cushions like you were part of the furniture. maybe if you looked relaxed enough, maybe if you looked gone enough, she’d finally stop. she’d finally give up.

but of course… she didn’t.

tara was stubborn like that. relentless. she’d keep clawing her way in no matter how many locked doors you put up between you and her. and god, she was beautiful. fierce. smart. magnetic. dangerous.

you bit your lip and turned your face away from her again, staring at the ceiling like it would swallow you whole if you just wished hard enough.

then you heard it.

“you know, you’re being an idiot.”

mindy’s voice. loud and blunt as always.

you blinked. slowly turned your head. she was looking right at you, a half-finished red solo cup in her hand, her other arm wrapped lazily around anika.

“what?” you muttered, already knowing where this was going.

“you heard me,” she said, shrugging. “tara’s dancing with that guy, but she hasn’t looked at him once. not once. she’s staring at you like you hung the goddamn moon, and you’re sitting here acting like none of it means anything.”

you exhaled a slow breath, jaw tight. “it doesn’t mean anything.”

“bullshit.” you didn’t answer. you couldn’t.

because deep down, you felt the storm too. you felt her stare, and it wasn’t something you could ignore anymore. it was constant. quiet. aching. like someone tapping on a window in the middle of the night. persistent. never going away.

“she’s not gonna let go of you,” mindy said softer now. “she should. for her own sake. but she won’t. and you know it.”

your throat felt dry. you glanced across the room again. tara was still there. still dancing. but her movements were slower now. almost distracted. her head tilted slightly as she looked at you, expression unreadable.

your chest tightened.

“she deserves better,” you said under your breath.

mindy didn’t argue. she just took a sip of her drink and said, “maybe. but she chose you.”

and that was the worst part because you knew you couldn’t choose her back. not in the way she wanted. not in the way she needed.

the room felt heavier now. or maybe it was just your chest. mindy’s words sat with you, echoing and spinning like the music in the background. “she chose you.”

you didn’t want her to. you didn’t ask her to but she did.

and now, you were suffocating on a couch in a party that you didn’t even want to be at, your mouth dry and your head pounding despite the haze.

you needed a drink. so, you moved.

slowly. stiffly. like your body was made of rusted metal and too many thoughts. anika mumbled something as your legs lifted from her lap, but you didn’t catch it. you were already standing, already weaving your way through a crowd that blurred and bent like a dream.

and then you saw her. of course you did.

she was still with him. same guy. too tall, too confident, too smug. his hand was on her waist again, and this time, he leaned down—closer, too close. and still, her eyes weren’t on him.

they were on you.

you could feel her gaze like a brand on your skin. you told yourself not to look. you had to not look. don’t look. just walk. keep walking. she’ll get tired eventually. they always do.

but your body? your traitorous, weak, human body?

it looked.

just a flicker of your eyes, just a moment as you passed. but she caught it.

and fuck—her face. her brows slightly drawn, lips parted, a storm behind her eyes like she was asking you why are you doing this to me? without ever opening her mouth.

you looked away instantly, heat crawling up your neck. you weren’t supposed to feel like this. not again. not for anyone.

the kitchen was louder than the living room. more people, more shouting, the clatter of plastic cups and spilled alcohol on cheap tile. you grabbed the first half-full bottle you saw—something vaguely clear, maybe vodka—and poured it into a cup that probably wasn’t clean. you didn’t care. you just needed something to cool the fire in your chest. or kill it entirely.

you took a long sip, let the burn anchor you. but it didn’t help because her eyes were still back there and even without seeing her, you felt them.

you didn’t go back to the couch. didn’t look at the living room. didn’t let yourself glance in that direction again. instead, you stood at the counter with your head down and your cup filled with something sharp and tasteless. your tongue was numb. your lips were dry. but it didn’t matter.

all you could think about was her.

tara.

her stare had followed you like a shadow, and now that it was gone, you felt the ache of its absence like a wound.

you told yourself it was a good thing. finally, maybe, she’d stop trying. maybe she’d let go. but then mindy came in.

she wasn’t laughing this time. not teasing. she was quiet, serious. she stopped beside you with her arms crossed and said flatly, “you saw that, right?” you didn’t answer. just tipped the cup back again and swallowed hard.

“she dragged him upstairs.” her voice cut through you. “she looked at you when she did it.”

you gripped the edge of the counter so tight your knuckles turned white.

“she’s not into him. she’s not trying to hook up. she’s trying to hurt you,” mindy said. “because you’re hurting her. and you won’t even look at her.”

you exhaled, slow and shaky. “and?”

“and, here she is. doing everything to get your attention.”

you turned your face slightly, but not enough to see the stairs, not enough to see if they were still up there or if she’d already come back down. you didn’t want to see.

you couldn’t see because truth was this:

you wanted to go after her.

you wanted to run up those stairs and pull her away from him and ask her what the hell she thought she was doing and why she couldn’t just give up and why she wouldn’t let you be cold, numb, safe.

but if you did that, it would break every wall you’d built. if you let yourself care, it would ruin you. it would ruin her. you weren’t built for love. not the soft kind she craved.

you didn’t do promises. you didn’t do forever.

so you stood there, letting the noise of the party grow around you, the music pounding louder, the lights spinning, and the taste of the liquor clinging to the back of your throat like regret.

and you kept drinking because that’s all you could do.

not love her. not chase her.

just drink and pretend that the ache in your chest didn’t feel like her walking up the stairs, her eyes begging you to follow.

but you didn’t. you couldn’t. and somewhere upstairs, tara was breaking in silence, waiting for a door that would never open.

mindy leaned beside you on the counter, staring at you like she didn’t recognize you anymore.

“you know she’s not gonna sleep with him, right?” she said quietly, not bothering to look at you. “she’s not that girl. not when she wants you.”

you didn’t answer. you couldn’t even look at her.

mindy exhaled deeply and straightened up. “fuck this,” she muttered. “if you’re gonna be the coldest person alive, fine. but someone has to stop her before she does something she’ll hate herself for tomorrow.”

you said nothing just gave a casual shrug but your fingers twitched at the edge of the counter. mindy didn’t wait for you to grow a spine.

she turned and walked out of the kitchen, slipping through the crowd like a thread pulling itself loose. she crossed the living room fast, already muttering under her breath about how “you’re both idiots and i hate being the emotionally mature one here.”

you watched her go.

the house felt heavier now, like it was pressing down on you. your ears rang. maybe it was the music. maybe it was the silence you were forcing between you and tara.

you stared into your cup.

you didn’t want to picture what was happening upstairs. you didn’t want to imagine her lips on someone else’s neck, her hands pretending they belonged somewhere they didn’t.

but the worst part wasn’t imagining it. it was knowing that you pushed her to it. you took another swig—long and bitter—and slammed the cup down.

for a second, just a second, your legs almost moved. you almost went after her but your feet stayed planted.

and somewhere on that second floor, behind a closed door, tara sat on the edge of a stranger’s bed with blurry eyes and a cracked heart, waiting for footsteps that would never come.

and instead, it was mindy who opened the door, who gently pulled her back and whispered, “they’re not coming but i am because someone has to love you right now, even if it’s just as a friend.”

you didn’t get to see the tears on tara’s face when she realized you weren’t coming for her. you just kept drinking because that was the only thing you knew how to do.

the hum of the house had shifted. laughter now felt forced, music like static, your drink stale in your hand. you stood there like you were still waiting for something, like maybe the floor would open up and swallow you whole before you had to look anyone in the eye.

but then you heard mindy’s voice—sharp, commanding. “alright, we’re leaving. now.” your head turned.

mindy was halfway down the stairs, one arm wrapped protectively around tara’s shoulders, guiding her like a sister would. tara wasn’t crying, not exactly, but her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were red and glassy. her arms hung limp by her sides, and she didn’t look at anyone.

just you.

she didn’t blink. didn’t speak.

she just stared at you with this quiet devastation. like she’d torn her heart open and handed it to you, and you’d tossed it back without looking.

your throat clenched, but you didn’t say a word. because what could you say?

“yo!” mindy barked, waving her arm. “chad! anika! ethan! let’s go. now. don’t ask, just move.”

anika grabbed her jacket without hesitation. chad appeared out of nowhere, confused but obedient. ethan trailed behind, awkward as ever. no one asked what was going on. no one dared to question mindy when she was in protect mode.

you put your cup down. quietly. no drama. then followed them without looking at tara again.

outside, the cold night air hit harder than expected. it sobered you up a little. not enough to erase the sting in your chest, but enough to make you wish you could vanish into the sidewalk.

the group was quiet. unusually quiet. the car ride was going to be worse but no one said anything.

no one except tara.

you weren’t walking beside her. you had stayed toward the back, like always—distance was your comfort zone. but even from feet away, you heard her voice. soft. broken.

“they didn’t even care.”

it wasn’t meant for anyone. not really. but it hit you harder than anything else ever could.

mindy reached for her again, rubbing her back. “yes they do,” she said, glancing back at you once with narrowed eyes. “they just doesn’t know how to show it. or maybe they’re too afraid to.”

tara didn’t reply.

she just kept walking with her arms crossed, her heart cracked wide open, and her feet dragging like she was made of lead.

you followed.

because that’s all you ever did. close enough to want her. far enough to never let her feel it.

and even after all of it—even after the way you looked through her, past her, like she was nothing. she still loved you so bad it physically hurt.

she hated that she still hoped you’d change. hated that she kept wondering if maybe, maybe, you’d grab her wrist and say “wait.”

but you didn’t. you stayed silent because silence was safer than trying.

[spidermanstealyohoe]

hi i love your writing! can you do “taking whats not yours” by tv girl where r basically just follows all the lyrics towards jenna ortega

taking what’s not yours || j.o.

“you know where to find me, and i know where to look” - taking what’s not yours by tv girl

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pairings: jenna ortega x gn reader

summary: you still have her stuff after everything

warnings: post-break up

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__________

you sit on the edge of your bed, staring blankly at the floor where her hoodie still rests, crumpled in the same spot she left it. the silence in the room hums louder than any heartbreak song could. jenna’s been gone for two weeks now. not just physically, but really gone. emotionally checked out long before she ever packed her things. well, most of them.

you keep finding pieces of her. her lighter still on your desk along with a book she was mid-way through reading, her coffee mug in the sink, her playlists autoplaying without warning. hell, even her side of the side still smells like her. her pillow smells like her.

it’s like she left her ghosts behind just to haunt you.

you scroll through your phone again, a stupid habit now and land on a photo of her wearing your old red hoodie, the one she “borrowed” without asking. she always took little things sweatshirts, vinyls, your lighter like they belonged to her by default.

she’d joke, “finders keepers,” flashing that smile that always won. but now, there’s no smile. just absence.

one night, you’re walking past the neighborhood she used lived by where you used to meet up with her late, post-filming, greasy fast food in hand, your hoodie on her back. the same hoodie you now sleep in, because it smells like her faintly. and you’re not even sure if you want to forget or remember.

and just when the ache starts to settle again, you see her jenna sitting across the street on that same bench. hoodie zipped halfway, legs pulled up, hair tied messy like she always wore it when she didn’t care who saw.

she sees you.

her eyes flicker with something like guilt. or maybe just nostalgia. she half-smiles. but you don’t walk over. not this time.

because maybe you finally realize she didn’t just take what wasn’t hers — she left you with what wasn’t yours either: all the unfinished goodbyes, all the pretending, all the borrowed time.

and maybe that hurts worse. because unlike her, you always returned what you borrowed. especially hearts.

you hold her gaze a second too long. long enough to feel everything that never got said.

long enough to remember the weight of her head on your shoulder, her laugh echoing off your apartment walls, the way she used to say your name like it meant something. but not long enough to reach for her.

she shifts on the bench. her fingers fidget with her sleeves a nervous tell you know better than your own. she looks like she might stand. maybe say something. maybe walk toward you.

instead, she stands and walks the other way. no dramatic goodbye. no turning back. just the soft scuff of her sneakers on pavement, fading into the city hum.

and for once, for once. you don’t move. you don’t chase her. you don’t call out her name. you don’t let your heart sprint after someone who only ever knew how to borrow love, but never give it back whole.

the wind brushes past you like she used to. and in that stillness, you realize:

maybe she wasn’t yours to begin with. maybe she never was. and maybe that’s okay. at least there was proof of your existence. letting her go without running after her. that’s the first thing you’ve done for you in a long time.

[spidermanstealyohoe]

perdóname || j.o.

“son las 3 de la mañana y estoy en tu ventana, buscándote, amor, escucha, por favor” - perdóname by deorro ft dycy & adrian delgado

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parings: jenna ortega x gn reader

summary: in which you show up at jenna’s window begging for her forgiveness

warning: language, slight angst

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__________

the night air was sharp, it was 3 in the morning. your breath fogged in front of you as you stood on the cracked sidewalk beneath jenna’s apartment. the street was quiet—too quiet for L.A.—but your heart was racing like you were about to go on stage for the first time.

you hadn’t planned this. you weren’t supposed to still care.

but here you were, phone buzzing in your pocket with messages you’d been ignoring all night. friends telling you to move on. that she had already. that she was better without you.

but they didn’t know what you said. what you did. how you told her to walk away when all she ever did was stay.

you looked up. her light was still on.

you walked over to grab some small rocks, stumbling since you had came back from a party a little tipsy. you grabbed a handful of small rocks and tossed it gently against her window. like in the movies. like it still worked.

no answer.

“jenna!” you whisper shouted. then again. louder this time. “jenna, please.”

the curtain shifted. her face appeared—tired, confused, beautiful in a way that only made your chest tighten harder. she opened the window slightly. “are you serious right now?”

you swallowed, hands trembling. “i know it’s late. i know i shouldn’t be here. but i need to say it. i messed up.”

her voice was quiet but cold. “you think showing up like this fixes everything?”

“no,” you admitted, heart in your throat. “i just… i can’t go another night without trying.”

she sighed and walked away from the window. you frowned not wanting to give up but then you saw her come down. in her slippers, in a maroon long sleeve shirt, arms crossed tightly across her chest like a shield. you stood there, eyes locked on hers, the weight of your mistake finally catching up.

“why now?” she asked, voice cracking. “why didn’t you say this when i begged you to let me in?”

you stepped forward, slow. careful.

“because i was scared. because i thought pushing you away would hurt less than admitting i needed you.”

she blinked. looked down.

“i didn’t come to make excuses,” you added. “i came to ask. forgive me… please.” she closed her eyes, jaw clenched.

“i’d do anything,” you said, voice shaking. “say the word, and i’ll disappear. but i had to try. one last time.”

for a moment, she said nothing. then she turned, walking past you, toward the door. you followed her with your eyes—hope flaring up—

but she didn’t invite you in. she looked back just once. “some things… sorry doesn’t fix.” the door shut softly behind her. and you were alone again.

the door shut softly behind her, but it felt like a scream. you stood there, staring at the chipped paint and cold concrete, fists clenched in your jacket pockets. the silence of the street swallowed you whole.

for a second, you thought about leaving. maybe that was the last of it. maybe that had to be the last of it.

but then you looked up. her window was still open. barley. a crack. a chance. you stepped back into the middle of the street and cupped your hands to your mouth.

“jenna!”

no response.

you said it louder. “jenna, i know you can hear me!”

a dog barked down the block. a light flicked on in a neighboring unit. you didn’t care.

“i know i was a coward. i pushed you away because i didn’t think i deserved you!”

still nothing.

you kept going. “but i’ve been thinking about you every day since you left. i’ve been hearing your laugh in places you’ve never even been. i swear, i can’t breathe without you!”

a curtain shifted up on her floor. not hers. you ignored it.

“you asked me once if j loved you—remember that? and i said i didn’t know. i lied. i loved you then. i still do. i always did.” your throat burned. so did your eyes. but you weren’t finished.

“you gave me everything, and i threw it away like an idiot. but i’m here now. i’m here! so if there’s even one small part of you that still wants me… just come back to the window. please.” the world held its breath with you. a car passed, slowly. a porch light clicked off across the street.

and then…

her window creaked open a little farther. you stepped closer, heart thundering.

jenna leaned out slowly, her eyes shining—not with forgiveness, not yet—but something more dangerous: hope fighting with heartbreak.

“why are you really here?” she asked, barely loud enough for you to hear. “to feel better? or to fix it?”

“to fix it. If you’ll let me.” your voice cracked when you spoke.

she stared down at you, the silence heavy again. you could almost see the war going on inside her. the part of her that wanted to slam the window shut. and the part that wanted to believe you. after a long pause, she said softly:

“don’t move. don’t leave.” then she disappeared from the window. you didn’t know if she was coming down… Or locking the door forever.

you stood there. still. heart thudding in your chest so loud you swore it could echo off the streetlights. the cold had crept into your fingers, your legs were stiff, your breath visible in short, nervous bursts.

she was gone from the window. again. you almost laughed. of course she left. maybe she was done for good this time. maybe she—

the door clicked. soft. slow. like a heartbeat restarting. you turned. she stepped out barefoot, sweater sleeves pulled over her hands, face unreadable. she didn’t say anything at first. just looked at you like you were someone she used to know and maybe still missed in the quiet parts of her soul.

you took a step forward. stopped yourself.

“i stayed,” you whispered.

she nodded. “i saw.”

another pause.

“you meant all of it?” she asked, like she still didn’t trust herself to believe it. you looked at her, eyes burning. “every word. i’d say it all again if it brought you back.”

her arms dropped to her sides. “why now?”

“because i finally realized you were the only thing i ever got right.” she didn’t cry. didn’t run into your arms. this wasn’t a movie. this was real.

but she stepped closer. slowly. carefully. like she was walking through a memory.

“you broke me,” she said, voice soft. “and i hated you for it.”

“i hated me too.”

she looked away. bit her lip. her eyes were glassy now, but she blinked the tears away before they could fall.

“if i let you in again,” she said, “you don’t get to run.”

“i won’t,” you promised, voice barely holding together. “not ever again.”

then, finally, she closed the distance. not with a kiss. not yet.

just her forehead against yours. her hands resting on your chest. your fingers trembling as they touched her face like it was made of light.

the night stayed quiet. but your world didn’t feel empty anymore. not with her standing there. not with forgiveness beginning.

her forehead stayed against yours, breath warm, soft, uneven. your hands hovered at her waist, afraid to hold her, afraid to let go. the world had gone silent around you. no cars. no footsteps. just the sound of two hearts trying to find each other again.

she pulled back a little, just enough to look at you. eyes full of everything she never said. you whispered, “i’m sorry.”

and then… she kissed you.

no warning. no hesitation. not the soft, unsure kind. it was aching. it was full. it was every late night she cried into her pillow, every message she typed and deleted, every version of you she tried to forget.

her hand found your face. her other hand gripped the front of your jacket like she was holding on for dear life.

just the sound of you exhaling against her mouth, like your lungs finally worked again. when she pulled back, her eyes were glassy but steady.

“don’t make me regret that,” she said.

you shook your head. “i won’t.”

[spidermanstealyohoe]

back to me || j.o.

“is she all that you want? is she all that you need?” back to me by the marias

__________

parings: jenna ortega x gn reader

summary: in which you moved on or so you thought until you saw your ex at the same party as you

warnings: slight angst

a/n: hopefully this is good

__________

__________

jenna hadn’t planned on showing up. the party felt like a mistake from the second she stepped out of the car—too many faces, too many memories, too close to you. but her manager said it would be good to be seen, to remind the world she was still glowing, thriving, “doing great.”

but the second she saw you across the room, all of that blurred.

you were standing near the balcony, drink in hand, laughing. that same lazy, effortless laugh that used to fill her kitchen when she wore your oversized shirts and cooked breakfast for you.

and then she saw the girl beside you.

jenna froze.

the girl leaned into you like she belonged there. her hand brushed your arm. you didn’t pull away.

jenna looked down, forcing a steady breath.

she shouldn’t have come. it had been almost a year. she told herself she was past it—that she’d outgrown you, that what you had was beautiful but unfinished. still, something in her had hoped that maybe… maybe you’d feel it too. that magnetism. that quiet space where only the two of you existed.

she waited for you to notice her.

you did.

your eyes met hers across the crowd—just for a second—and something flickered in your expression. recognition. surprise. maybe something more, or maybe she just imagined it.

“hey, i’ll be right back.. i won’t be long.” you said softly to your date as she raised an eyebrow but nodded with a tight lipped smile.

you slowly approached jenna, who was leaning against the wall.

“jenna,” you said. calm. cool. like you hadn’t once held her until 3 a.m. while she cried about roles and headlines and how empty fame could feel sometimes.

she smiled, trying not to look like she cared. “hey. didn’t expect to see you here.”

“i could say the same.”

there was a pause. that same silence she remembered from your last conversation—the one where you said you needed space to grow, and she didn’t try to stop you.

“you look good,” she said quietly.

“so do you.” you whispered softly.

but it didn’t feel like small talk. It felt like glass over a wound that hadn’t fully healed.

she bit her lip. “i’ve been thinking about reaching out.”

you didn’t answer right away. that told her more than words.

“sidn’t know if I should,” she added quickly, “especially now that you’re… you know. happy.”

you looked back toward the girl by the bar. she was busy talking to someone else. the your eyes met jenna’s again.

“are you?” she asked. “happy?”

your voice was low. careful. “trying to be.”

she wanted to tell you she was sorry. that she missed you. that she still wore your hoodie some nights even though she told everyone she gave it back.

but instead, she just looked at you and asked, “if i said i still think about you… would it matter?”

you blinked slightly confused. “i don’t know.”

it was honest. and it hurt.

she leaned in, close enough that only you could hear, and whispered:

“if you ever come back to me… meet me in montauk.” then she walked away, heels clicking softly on marble, pretending it didn’t break her.

you knew what she meant but you didn’t move, you stayed there planted on your feet as if waiting for something else to happen.

but it never did.

__________

it was now mid fall. the wind in montauk was colder than you remembered. overcast skies hung low, smudging the edges of the ocean like a painting left out in the rain. you stood near the lighthouse, hands in your jacket pockets, wondering if she would actually come.

she did.

jenna walked up slowly from the dune path, dressed in a black coat, hair whipped sideways by the breeze. she looked exhausted—like someone who hadn’t slept well in days, maybe weeks. or maybe that was just what your memory wanted to see.

“you came,” she said, almost surprised.

“i said i would.”

she nodded and looked out at the water. “it’s different when you’re really here. i used to come up here after shoots… just to clear my head. before everything got too loud.”

you both stood there in silence for a while, the waves doing the talking. and for a moment, it felt like maybe this was what you both needed—space, time, honesty.

then she turned to you. “so… are you still with her?”

you sighed. “no.”

she waited, but you didn’t offer more.

“i thought maybe this could be… something,” jenna said, her voice soft. “not going back to how it was. just… forward, maybe.”

you looked at her, brows furrowed. “and what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

she blinked. “it means i still care about you. but i’m not here to beg.”

you scoffed a little, stepping away. “feels like you only care when i’ve already moved on. where was this when i needed you?”

“i didn’t know what you needed!” she snapped, sudden fire in her tone. “you shut me out. you left and never looked back.”

“i left because i couldn’t keep playing second to your career, to your press tours, to this… perfect image you built,” you fired back. “you were everywhere except with me.”

she clenched her jaw. “i gave you everything i had. but it was never enough for you, was it?”

you shook your head, frustration rising. “you gave me what was left. there’s a difference.”

the silence after that felt colder than the wind.

jenna took a shaky breath, eyes glinting. “you know what? maybe this was a mistake. coming here. thinking we could salvage anything from the wreck.”

she turned, already walking back down the path.

“jenna—”

but she didn’t stop. you stood there alone, the wind howling like it had something to say, too. and maybe it did.

but it was too late.

[spidermanstealyohoe]

puppy love || k.t.

“and they called it puppy love” - puppy love by paul anka

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parings: katie torres x gn reader

summary: in which you flip for a certain latina, who’s been obsessed with you since the 2nd grade

warnings: none?

a/n: based off the movie ‘flipped’, accidentally lost the request sorry! 😭

__________

__________

all you ever wanted was for katie torres to leave you alone. it all began in the summer of 2014, before the start of second grade.

you and your family were moving into town, as your dad drove the car to the new house but you notice this girl was starting at you, considering your window was down, you gave her a dirty look but she just looked at you like you were… everything.

“here we are.” you dad said as he pulled up to your families new house. the reason you guys had to move was because well, your dad thought you and your sister had more opportunities in this town than the last.

“what do you guys think?” your mom asked as she turned around behind to look at you and your older sister from the backseat.

“i like this place.” you nodded, looking around from the outside of the house.

“It's cool.” your sister said as she got out the car, “uh, what color is my room?” she asked, you rolled your eyes at your siblings question.

“just you wait.” your mother smiled as you smiled up at the house in awe.

”let’s see what's inside.”

“come on, y/n. why don't, uh, you and i go help unload the van... ...while your mother and sister here can get in the kitchen and start setting up.” your dad as you immediately nodded and walked around to her over to him.

one reason you said yes was because well… you never really got along with your father so it was new to you. besides that for you, it was the beginning of what would be more than half a decade of strategic avoidance and social discomfort.

you and your dad hopped on the truck as you looked around at piles of boxes, dang. then suddenly the girl, you saw staring at you while pulling up hopped in making you jump back.

“hi, i’m katie torres.” she introduced herself, she then went to grab a big box with glass plates in it.

“hey, hey, what are you doing?” your father quickly spoke up, looking at little girl with a frown.

“don't you want some help?” the small latina asked, looking up at man with a confused gaze. “no. there’s some valuable things in there.” your dad shook his head.

“How about this one?” she asked bending down to pick up a box but your dad stopped her.

“no, no, no. run home. your mother's probably wondering where you are.” he reasoned trying to make katie go away.

“oh, no, my mom knows where i am. she said it's fine.” she shrugged as you and your dad made eye contact. it didn't take long to realize this girl could not take a hint.

“its crowded in here with three people.” your dad again tried to reason but this girl would just not budge.

“i don't mind.” she said with a simple tone before she turned to look at you, who was looking at her strangely.

“you wanna push this one together?” she asked so casually as if they knew each other for years. she bent over to grab the box but your father was quick to put his foot on it so katie wouldn’t grab it.

“y/n, isn't it time for you to go help your mother?” your dad looked over at you with a knowing look. “huh?” you asked confused but when you saw his expression, your face went from confusion to realization.

“oh, yeah!” you exclaimed and quickly hopped out the truck, katie not too far behind.

i mean, nothing would stop her. you were about to tell her to get lost when the weirdest thing happened. you were running back to the house when you felt katie try to grab your hand so you quickly yanked your arm back, but that didn’t really help since you two ended up grabbing each others wrist. you couldn't believe it. there you were holding hands with this strange girl.

how did i get into this mess?

“well, hello. i see you've met my kid.” your mom said coming out the house with a raised eyebrow.

“uh-huh.” katie hummed as she kept looking at you.

finally, you did the only childish thing available when you're 7 years old. you yanked your arm away and hid behind your mom as if katie was some dangerous person. however, your troubles were far from over. the minute you walked into miss parkinson’s classroom... well.

“y/n? you're here!” katie exclaimed as she ran up to you and hugged you so tightly, you couldn’t even get out her grip. you heard students laugh at your squirming figure.

it was clear: school would not be a sanctuary. you were completely branded for the rest of your life.

“hey, y/n, where's your girlfriend?” a boy said to you in the halls as his friends laughed behind him.

“hey, y/n, why don't you ask her to marry you?” a kid a lunch asked as you glared at him harshly

“y/n and katie sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G” she girls sang playfully as you tried to get away from katie running around due to her chasing you.

your first year in town was a disaster. and the next three weren't much better. but finally, in the sixth grade, you took action.

“jess. jess, wait up.” you called out as you got out from the school bus, jogging up to the short hair girl.

“hi, y/n. heh.” the girl laughed nervously as you looked at her with a smile. you asked out jessica.

“i was wondering if you wanted to go to the movies with me?” you smiled softly at brunette haired girl.

to full appreciate the brilliance of this plan. you have to understand that katie hated jessica miller, though you never understood why. jess was nice, friendly and she had nice lips.

“at first, my mother wouldn't let me to not go to a concert, but I begged her like really really begged her. but I still can't get go till I'm 16.” she said to you during lunch as you nodded along not really caring but pretended to take interest since you knew katie was watching you.

“oh, that's a shame.”

the idea was that jess would eat with me, maybe we'd walk around together, and hopefully katie would lose interest. things were unfolding quite nicely.

jess and you were walking around the halls as she was telling you about how her friend blew a sit and destroyed this vintage record player. you looked rather bored but that changed when you saw kate at her locker, you then grabbed jess’ hand, who looked over in surprise but smiled either way.

katie looked over and immediately scrolled at you two, your eyes flickered between jess and katie as you pretend to hear everything jess was saying.

“what are you doing for your science project?” finney asked jess as you were sitting down on your desk watching from afar.

that is, until your supposed best friend, finney jones, took an interest in jess himself.

“i was thinking of showing how split ends react with different hair conditioners.” jess smiled at the boy, “that's fascinating.” he replied back.

loyalty gave way to desire and finney, the turncoat told jess what i was up to.

okey day during recess you were drinking water when someone tapped you on the shoulder, you turned around and saw jess there but felt a hand make contact with your cheek.

“jerk.”

she didn’t take it well. word got back to katie, and pretty soon she started up with the goo-goo eyes again. only this time it was worse. she started sniffing you. that’s right, sniffing you.

what was that all about?

the only consolation was that next year would be different. junior high, bigger school. maybe we'd be in different classes and it would finally, finally be over.

_____

the first day she met y/n y/l/n, she flipped. it was those eyes, something in those beautiful eyes.

“you wanna push this one together?” she asked but she saw that your dad had told you something about helping your mom.

your family had just moved into the neighborhood and she’d gone over to help them. she’d been in the van all of two minutes when your dad sent you off to help your mom.

she could see that you didn't wanna go. so she chased after you to see if you two could play a little before you got trapped inside. the next thing she know, you’re holding her hand and looking right into her eyes.

katie’s heart stopped.

was this it?

would this be my first kiss?

but then your mom came out.

“well hello.” your mother said looking between you and katie, who’s arms were still on yours and you were so embarrassed, your cheeks turned completely red.

she went to bed that night thinking of the kiss that might have been. it was clear you had feelings for her, but you were just too shy to show them. her mother said kids her age were like that. so she decided to help you out.

“y/n? you're here!”

she would give you plenty of opportunity to get over your shyness. by the sixth grade, she’d learned to control herself. then jessica miller entered the picture.

jessica miller was nothing but a whiny, gossipy, backstabbing flirt. all make up and no substance. and there she was holding hands with you.

my y/n.

the one who was walking around with katie’s first kiss. her solution was to ignore her. katie knew someone of your caliber would eventually see through a shallow conniver like jess.

it took all of a week. you and jess broke up at recess. she didn't take it well at all. now that you were out of jess’ evil clutches, you started being nicer to her.

“hey, katie.” you smiled at her as you came into class and sat down in front of her, “hi, y/n.” she smiled back at you with an expression full of hope and love.

you were so shy and so cute and your hair, it smelled like vanilla. she couldn't get enough of it. she spent the whole year secretly sniffing vanilla.

…and wondering if she was ever going to get her kiss.

[spidermanstealyohoe]

i dare you || t.c.

“now i'm deep in it, infatuated, strong attraction” - i dare you by the xx

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pairings: tara carpenter x gn reader

summary: in which it is too hot to cuddle in tara’s room but she’s stubborn and clingy

warnings: fluff? language

a/n: merry late christmas🎅

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__________

“tara stop!”

you exclaimed as you tried to pry her off, it was way too hot in her room to be even cuddling with her right now. also considering the heaters were on since it was mid-december explains a lot.

she was currently pressed against your side under the bed sheets, her body curled up against yours as she tried to cling to you like a koala. It was hot, and sticky under the blankets, but she didn’t want to let go. even though you were complaining and telling her to stop, she just cling on tighter, refusing to let go of you.

“mmm… no.” she protested stubbornly, her voice a little muffled as she nuzzled against you, her body practically glued to yours.

“tara, it’s fucking hot in here.” you whined out. she could hear the frustration in your tone and knew you were probably right, but still, she refused to let go of you. she was practically clinging onto you like her life depended on it, her body practically melded to yours under the sheets.

“i don’t care..” she whined back, nuzzling against you again, her arms wrapped tightly around your torso, her mind in no condition to want to let you go.

even when you suddenly grabbed the blankets and yanked them off of them both, she quickly protested, immediately missing the feeling of warmth and closeness. still, she didn’t pull away from you, clinging to your side instead, her body pressed against yours as she nuzzled against your neck.

“..it’s cold now…” she complained, her voice a little whiny and petulant as she clung to you, refusing to let go.

“cling to the heater then if it’s sooo cold-ow!” she suddenly pinched down hard on your side in protest, making you let out a little yelp.

“no. i’m clinging to you.” she pouted, her voice still stubbornly defiant. she pressed herself closer to you, her body practically molding against yours as she continued nuzzling against your neck.

“can we at least open the window or turn the ac on?” you asked annoyed from the heat.

she sighed softly, rolling her eyes at your annoyance, but still unable to bring herself to let go of you. she was stubborn, and wanted to keep holding you like this, but after a moment of stubborn resistance, she finally relented.

“…ugh, fine. you’re such a baby.” she grumbled, finally pulling away from you and opening the window, letting in some cool air into the room.

“oh thank god, i was starting to think my skin was gonna melt off…” she couldn’t help but smirk at the dramatic comment about your skin melting off, rolling her eyes again, but still amused by your over-the-top reaction.

“oh please, you weren’t going to melt, it wasn’t that hot.” she protested, flopping back down on the bed and quickly wrapping her arms around you again, pulling you close against her.

“sure tara… sure…”

[spidermanstealyohoe]

my strange addiction || w.a.

“but you are my strange addiction” - my strange addiction by billie ellish

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pairings: wednesday addams x male reader

summary: in which nevermores new student gains an obsession for you

warnings: obsessive, language

a/n: kinda lost the request but here you go😭

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__________

she’s a little strange in your opinion, you always catch her staring at you with that creepy cold expression of hers. at first you didn’t care but now it was different since it’s always a constant thing.

you’ve talked to enid about it but she just shrugged you off and told you it was ‘normal’. how in the world was someone staring at you for a long amount of time normal?

you were in class sitting next to xavier as you felt someone’s eyes burn into the back of your skull. you slowly turned back and saw wednesday looking at you with the same cold expression as always.

you turned back and looked at xavier with a raised eyebrow mostly out of discomfort.

“hey, why is she always staring?” you whispered lowly as xavier looked up with a confused expression before he turned behind him. wednesday was writing something down onto her paper as you furrowed your eyebrows.

did she just…?

“who?” he asked confused as you just looked at wednesday, you can’t be hallucinating and your mind is definitely not playing games with you.

“nevermind…” you mumbled as xavier just shrugged you off and turned back to his paper but you kept staring at wednesday, who finally made eye contact with you.

you two seemed to have a staring contest for a minute or so before thornhill announced that class was over. you snapped out of it and stood up to get your stuff.

as you were getting up, you had accidentally bumped into wednesday, who’s eyes widen in surprise but she was good at hiding it. you raised an eyebrow at her as she pushed past you.

you were quick to follow and get answers, you pushed past multiple students as you followed her into the library. a place that’s know for students making out or whatever.

“i see you’ve followed me into the library.” her cold monotone spoke up, her back facing you.

“why do you keep staring at me?” you asked straight up as you crossed your arms around your chest.

she turned around to face you and took a step closer to you. sure, wednesday was short but pretty imitating. you kept your cold facade as she was now inches away from you.

“i take a special interest in you, y/n” she said lowly not breaking eye contact whatsoever, which made you feel even more nervous.

“why though?” you asked in the same tone, watching her every move kinda like a hawk.

she didn’t answer you and just grabbed a fistful of your uniform collar and pulled you down to her height.

“don’t ask any questions.” she mumbled against her lips making you raise an eyebrow.

the hell in going on?

she let go of your collar and stepped away from you, looking at you with a small unnoticeable smirk as she walked off.

you could only stare at her in shock, you looked around and walked off to the opposite direction, no matter what you were gonna get answers sooner rather than later.

[spidermanstealyohoe]

casual || m.b.

“i know what you tell your friends, it's casual, if it's casual now” - casual by chappell roan

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parings: mabel black x gn reader

summary: it started off as a casual hook up but was it casual now?

warnings: language, slight angst

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__________

mabel isn’t sure if this ‘relationship’ can still be defined as ‘casual’. Is it casual to flirt in front of your friends? Is it casual to introduce her to your mom? Is it casual to go on a beach trip with the two of you? Is it casual to hangout like normal friends outside of your late night hook-ups? Is it casual when her favorite bra is in your dresser? it was like those no strings attached type thing, but she broke the rule and got attached.

you and mabel had met at a barbecue during the summer, you were the one that served her water or whatever. after that you two hit it off and went back to her place to hook up.

after that that night, you had asked if she she’d be down with the whole no strings attached thing, and she agreed since she didn’t mind it, considering back then you were just a random cute person she hooked up with.

but that only lasted a month or two before she really got attached. it started when you introduced her to your mom and started causally hanging out with your friends at the beach.

when you friend laughed and asked if you two were together at first, you both laughed and said they were crazy. but now mabel isn’t so sure about that.

right now, you two were in bed snuggled up and watching love island, since mabel loved that show to death but things didn’t feel right.

she hates how you thought this was cause but for her it was more than casual now. she’s told her friends about it but there’s nothing she can really do because if she said something, she didn’t want it to be awkward in the later future.

so she stayed silent like always, maybe, maybe if you just saw her the same way she saw you, it’d be different, you’d both would have a happy ending.

it was kind of her fault too her even agreeing to something like this but your eyes, hair, voice, it all attracted her you, she wondered sometimes what she could do to make you feel the same but for now… it was the long game.

[spidermanstealyohoe]

not allowed || v.c.

“and you don't know how long i could stare into your picture, and wish that it was me” - not allowed by tv girl

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parings: vada cavell x gn reader

summary: you find yourself catching feelings for your best friend, who likes someone else

warnings: language, slight angst

a/n: another drabble

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__________

you and vada have been best friends since you two were in diapers honestly, you two did everything together, literally everything. she never got tired of you and you never got tired of her.

you two told each other secrets, stories and flaws about each other. but there was one thing vada didn’t know about, your crush on her but either way it wouldn’t matter considering she was dating quinn.

he’s a nice guy and everything but he’s just not for vada. maybe it was jealousy or maybe it was true but him and vada were completely different. for example:

1. he loved cats and vada was allergic to cats.

2. he loves football and vada loves soccer.

3. he loves boring documentary and vada loves horror.

the list goes on and on, you remember when vada first told you about him, you could feel your heart clenching in your chest like it was about to burst. you’ve met quinn a couple times and he was nice and gentle.

you could see why vada liked him so much but then again every couple had their flaws. after a few months of them going out, vada would come to your house frustrated and when you asked her what’s wrong, she told you how her and quinn kept getting into this stupid arguments.

“just dump him.” you said softly as you shrugged, vada furrowed her eyebrows and stoped pacing around your room.

“i don’t want too…”

“why?” you asked frowning, she was already miserable in the relationship why would she want to stay in it?

“i… i think i love him.” okay maybe you didn’t expect that. loved him? loved him for what? for arguing?

“w-what?” you stuttered since she left you dumbfounded at her confession.

“look, i know it’s weird but everytime i’m with him i feel-“ thats when you zoned as her voice sounded faint in your ears. the girl you fell in love with loves someone else.

“that’s- that’s great.” you nodded slowly as she suddenly threw her arms around you, you jumped slightly, startled by the action but wrapped your arms around her back.

god, she was messing with your head.

“i love you…” she mumbled into your shoulder, you knew she meant it as just as friend but you couldn’t help but feel hope for something that’s never gonna happen.

“i love you too, vada…”

maybe in another universe you two could be meant to be.

[spidermanstealyohoe]

cigarettes out the window || c.s.

“but she never really quit, she'd just say she did” - cigarettes out the window by tv girl

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parings: cairo sweet x gn reader

summary: you desperately try to get cairo to quit cigarettes for her own good

warnings: language, smoking?

a/n: short lil chap

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__________

cairo was sitting in her bedroom lighting up a cigarette, that was in between her fingers. you see, you never had a problem with cairo smoking before but now it was just a constant thing that she did over and over.

you tried to get her to quit multiple of times but it didn’t really work, she just told you ‘yeah, i’ll quit tomorrow.’ or ‘i’ll throw them away later.’ but she didn’t, she never did.

you love cairo, you really do but everytime you try to get her to do something for her own good, she just shrugs you off or starts an argument with you for no reason at all.

every time you and cairo kiss, you could still taste the smell of cigarette in her mouth. that’s probably why you started to kiss her less. don’t get me wrong, you love kissing cairo but you just hate the smell or taste of cigarettes.

sometimes she’d lie to you saying that she did quit. but you knew it was a lie once you found her smoking outside school campus and when you found her opened cigarette pack in her room.

one day, she asked you to come over to her house to hang out and have a sleepover, you agreed like always since you never really turned down your girlfriend.

“hey, i’ll be right back.” cairo said softly as she got up from your arms and sat up on the edge of the bed. you frowned at her discomfort as you started sitting up as well.

“what’s wrong?” you asked lowly as cairo shook her head and stood up. “i’ll be right back, don’t follow me.” and she took off leaving you confused and dumbfounded.

she was gone for an hour and a half before she came back more comfortable and less stressed, she ignored your questions as she made her way to the bathroom. you knew what she had been doing but you didn’t push it not wanting to make her angry.

you could hear the sink running in her bathroom, meaning she was brushing her teeth attempting to get rid of the smell of cigarettes. the sink stopped running as she came back and laid down next to you again.

you felt and for her, she really couldn’t quit if she tried, she was in too deep. you knew you really couldn’t do anything about it either because it would result into an argument and god knows what else.

instead you held her tightly as if something was gonna take her away from you. she snuggled into your arms, slowly drifting off to sleep with the help of your arms around her and cigarettes.

[spidermanstealyohoe]

Hi, I love the way you write ♡. You could do some smut with Jenna or Tara, whatever you prefer. If it makes you uncomfortable just don't do it, don't worry.

wet dreams || t.c.

“now i'm in your wet dreams, said you don't know what it means” - wet dreams by artemas

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pairings: tara carpenter x gn reader

summary: tara starts having these… certain dreams about you, her enemy and roommate

warnings: language, smut

a/n: first time writing smut 😭 also send request guys i’m out of ideas

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tara woke up from her nap in cold sweat, heat between her thighs, ragged breath, and lustful eyes. she looked around the room to make sure you weren’t around.

but that only lasted a couple seconds until you came back in playing something on your phone, you noticed her weird demeanor and raised an eyebrow.

“you good?” you scoffed softly, sitting down on your desk chair. tara rolled her eyes still hot and bothered, her core aching to be touched as she squeezed her thighs together.

“i’m fine.” she responded with a huff as she wiped her forehead. you raised an eyebrow but shrugged it off, turning back to your computer, which had the brightness all the way up.

“do you have to have the brightness all the way up?” she asked annoyed, rubbing her eyes since her vision was still pretty blurry.

“because i can.” you shrugged making her groan softly, she slumped back down onto the mattress with a huff.

“someone’s moody…” you mumbled then all of the sudden you felt the back of your head get smacked with a pillow.

“hey!”

“you deserved it…”

you rolled your eyes in annoyance and turned back to the computer, tara on the other hand was still pretty well… lustful. she felt her heat grow more every time she thought back to the dream she just had.

her hand played with the strings of her sweatpants, folding with the fabric as she bit her bottom lip. you were too focused on whatever was on your computer, your back was turned to which made her desire to do something, she’d probably regret since you’re in the room.

her hand slipped down to the waistline of her sweatpants, her hand aching to go further down but she didn’t considering you were literally 10 feet away from her.

she could feel her heartbeat through her ears as she slowly went further down, she really tried not too but it was hard since she could feel her sensitive core throbbing. her hand made its way to her upper thigh, she bit back a whimper still making sure you were still focused on your computer.

her fingers slowly moved to her slick wet folds as she gasped softly then immediately covering her mouth, her gaze went to you to see if you were looking but thank god for those loud ass headphones you bought.

tara slowly moved her fingers in a circular motion trying not to make noise, she bit her lip and closed her eye, keeping one open in case you turned around. she’d probably die from embarrassment if she was caught touching herself and to you.

just as soon as she felt a knot in her stomach, you decided to turned around. she removed her hand from under her pants, her cheeks flushed and acted as if nothing happened.

“what?” you asked obvious to what she was doing as you raised a confused eyebrow at her and stood up to get something from your drawer.

“nothing…”

“you’re weird.” you mumbled lowly as you rummaged through your drawers, looking for something that tara didn’t care about right now. you found what you needed and went to go back to yourself desk until you saw tara giving you a glare.

“you look weird.” she scoffed, rolling her eyes as you glared at laying figure and flipped her off, “go fuck yourself.” then tara said something she’d probably never say in a million years, especially to you.

“fuck me yourself, you coward.”

you had to do a double take to make sure you hear right, at first you thought she was joking but when you took note of her serious expression, your heart sped up.

“what are you-“

“you heard me.”

you couldn’t tell if she was pranking you, you looked around the room for a camera or something but nope, nada.

“uhm…. oh.” tara stood up, walking towards you and grabbed the collar of your hoodie, pulling you down to her eye level, your noses brushing slightly against each others.

“you heard me… fuck me…”

“what’s gotten into you-“ before you could finish, she cut you off with her lips coming in contact with yours, her arms around your neck pulling you impossibly closer.

somehow you two stumbled onto her bed, rolling sound making out. the sound of lips smacking and her quiet sounds were heard around the room. you didn’t really know why you gave in so quickly, maybe because you could feel the tension since the day you met but who knows.

she grabbed your hand and lowered it down to her lower stomach, you instantly got the message of what she wanted and slowly moved your hand down to her waistline.

“please.” she begged softly, your eyes widen slightly since you’ve never seen her this submissive or vulnerable.

your hand trailed down to her upper thighs as she gasped loudly, clutching onto your shoulders, finger nails digging into your hoodie. you slowly moved to her slick folds, before she could let out a moan, you moved your lips together, teeth clashing as you felt her hips buck up to your hand.

your fingers moved in a circular motion as she let out little moans into the kiss, her hips rocking back and fourth into your hand as your pace slightly increased.

you could feel her body start to shake slightly in your hold as you kissed her neck, nippling on her sensitive skin. her hands tangled in your messy hair as your pace was fast and steady.

you could feel her body start to convulse as she let out a loud moan, her grip on your hair and back tightened as you helped her come down from her climax.

you two laid there for a moment as she was panting in your hold, you rubbed her belly softly as her breathing slowly went back to normal.

“we should do that more often…” she whispered softly as you raised an eyebrow and picked your head up to look at her, “are you high?” she smacked your shoulder at your words.

“ow, i was just asking…” you grumbled as you rubbed your shoulder, she raised an eyebrow with a slight smirk on her face.

“just shut up…” she grabbed your collar again and pushed her lips on yours again.