#tamber

[northsonic]

I love a good ship that has tried to kill each other at least once or have at least thought about it .

[halfmoonaria]

unanswered II

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: tara finally comes to her senses.

word count: 6k

author’s note: sorry for the wait guys! might be forgiven tho since i claimed this was 4k words but it ended up with 6k.

i tried to include all your suggestions so i hope you like it

Tara had been blocked.

You had blocked her.

Though, it didn't hit her all at once. The first few minutes, she thought you were just asleep, it had been late when she had texted you after all.

Maybe you needed space after what Tara had said a few nights before, and she couldn't blame you for that.

Yet she still tried texting you, each one more desperate than the last. They were all small messages, apologies wrapped in awkward words that probably didn't mean much for anyone but her.

At first, Tara chalked it up to bad timing, bad service, something.

You had to see her messages eventually, right? So she kept sending them. But there was still no reply. Then, the doubt crept in.

Maybe you were ignoring her.

That thought weighed heavily on her, but she didn't stop.

She was still convinced there had to be an explanation. You always stayed. Even when things were at their worst, when she screwed up time and time again, you stayed.

But something was different this time. She felt it.

Then she noticed the green bubbles. The messages weren't delivering.

Her stomach had dropped. It wasn't bad service. It wasn't bad timing. You had cut her off completely.

Her thumb hovered over your contact, thinking about calling, but she stopped. What was the point? You wouldn't answer.

You were done with her.

She stared at her phone for longer than she should have, as if willing it to change.

But it didn't.

The reality sank in, slow and suffocating. You were gone.

For the first time, she wasn't the one walking away, and the absence of you—your presence, your texts, your warmth—was a hole Tara hadn't even realized she relied on.

It wasn't like she hadn't expected it after everything that had happened.

You always had a way of catching her when she messed up, but things seemed to smooth over eventually.

She never really had to confront her mistakes because you stayed, no matter how many times she got it wrong. Now, though, there was nothing.

Tara wasn't used to this. Sure, she knew she had done something wrong—pushing you away, keeping you in this weird limbo while she figured herself out—but she hadn't thought it would lead to you cutting her off.

Blocking her, even.

That had never happened before. No matter how many times she messed up, you had always been there, willing to pick up the pieces, and things just... worked.

She hadn't even realized how much she relied on your presence until it was gone.

For the first time, she was completely alone. No Amber, no you. Just silence.

———

Tara woke up the next morning with a strange sense of hope. She half expected to see the messages had been delivered, that maybe you'd unblocked her while she was asleep. Maybe it was all just a mistake. You wouldn't really cut her off, not after everything, right?

She grabbed her phone, swiping to the messages she'd sent.

Still green.

Her heart sank, the pit in her stomach deepening as she realized nothing had changed. You were serious. You weren't coming back.

When she got to school, a part of her still thought maybe you'd be there, waiting to talk like you always did, or at least watching from afar. She found herself glancing at the spots where she usually saw you, waiting for that familiar feeling of your eyes on her.

But you weren't there.

But Tara kept walking, her heart heavy as she scanned the hallways. That's when she spotted Amber, standing by her locker, waiting. The familiar feeling of longing tugged at her, but this time it wasn't as comforting as before.

Amber caught her eye and signaled for her to come over, flashing that smile Tara always fell for. Without thinking, Tara did. She walked straight into Amber's arms, letting Amber sling her arm casually around her shoulders as if nothing had changed between them.

For a brief moment, Tara felt like she had what she wanted. Amber was there, holding her close, showing everyone that she was hers—at least for today.

But there was still a heaviness in her chest, something she couldn't shake. It didn't make sense. She was with Amber now, wasn't this enough?

The thought of you crept in, uninvited.

No, it couldn't be that.

She pushed the feeling down, convincing herself that having Amber was enough.

It had to be.

That's what she told herself for the following days, trying to convince herself that Amber was enough, that this was what she wanted.

And for a while, it almost worked. Amber had been good—more attentive, more affectionate than usual—at least during the school week.

The weekends, though, were different. Parties took priority, and Amber's attention drifted.

Yet even when things were good; better than ever if you will, Tara couldn't shake the feeling lodged in her chest, that gut-wrenching discomfort that seemed to cling to her no matter how much she tried to ignore it.

The more she tried to push it down, the more it twisted inside her, leaving her uneasy.

And all of the thoughts led back to you. To Tara's own surprise.

You didn't try to search for her between classes, didn't glance in her direction when you passed her in the hallways. Nothing. Like she didn't even exist.

That was what Tara should've expected, really. After everything she'd done—after the way she'd strung you along, pushed you aside, left you waiting on the sidelines—it made sense. She had no right to expect anything different.

Tara had always been the one to call the shots, to decide when and where things stood between the two of you. Now, for the first time, the power was out of her hands.

She kept telling herself it was temporary. You'd come back—you always did. She just had to wait it out. Maybe this time it would take a little longer, but you'd be there, eventually. You had to be. So she forced herself to get used to it, to the absence, pretending she could handle the emptiness you left behind.

But what really started to get under Tara's skin wasn't just your absence or the way you seemed to move on so easily. It was seeing you with someone else.

She first noticed it during English class. You had been sitting next to some girl—someone Tara vaguely recognized but never really paid attention to before.

At first, she didn't think much of it, but as the days went on, she kept seeing the two of you together. Talking. Laughing. It wasn't just casual conversations either. You looked comfortable. Almost like you were enjoying yourself.

And as the days passed, Tara couldn't help but notice it more.

You hadn't even glanced her way in days, and yet here you were, cozying up to someone else like nothing had happened.

And every time she glanced in your direction during class, there you were, talking to her. Sometimes you'd laugh, or lean in a little closer, your body language relaxed in a way that made Tara's stomach twist.

You weren't just sitting next to each other anymore—you were... comfortable. And it wasn't just in English. She caught sight of you together in the hallways, outside the building after school.

The more she saw the two of you, the more it grated on her nerves. A sharp, simmering anger that built with each passing day.

Every smile, every shared glance between you and this girl made it harder for her to focus on Amber, even when Amber was right beside her, holding her hand or whispering in her ear.

It shouldn't have bothered her like this. It shouldn't have mattered.

You were free to talk to whoever you wanted. For all Tara knew, she was just a classmate, someone you happened to sit next to by chance.

But that didn't stop the ugly feeling from growing inside her, gnawing away at her with every interaction she witnessed.

She told herself it was nothing. That it didn't mean anything. But with every glance, every shared word between you and that girl, her anger simmered, coiling tighter until it was all she could focus on.

It wasn't jealousy, Tara told herself. It couldn't be. She had Amber, after all.

Yet there was no denying the way her chest tightened every time she saw you with her. It wasn't supposed to feel like this. You weren't supposed to matter anymore.

But somehow, you still did. Of course you did.

___

"What's got your panties in a twist?" Amber's voice broke through Tara's thoughts, cutting through the low hum of the campus.

Her tone was sharp, playful in a way that normally would've made Tara grin, but today it grated, pulling her out of the spiral she had been sinking into.

They were sitting outside, perched on one of the weathered wooden benches that lined the quad, the usual bustling energy of lunchtime fading as the crowd thinned.

Chad and Liv had disappeared first, throwing out some half-hearted excuse about "something better to do," Mindy had ditched too—not that Tara blamed her, considering she wasn't exactly Amber's biggest fan. Which left only Amber and Tara behind.

Normally, Tara would've reveled in that—the rare chance to have Amber's full attention, unshared, unchallenged by anyone else. She used to crave these moments when it was just the two of them, when Amber's eyes were only on her.

But now, Tara could barely summon the energy to care. The thrill of it had dulled, smothered under the weight of everything else she couldn't stop thinking about—of everything she couldn't feel.

Your absence hung heavy in the air, even though Amber didn't know it was there. She couldn't know.

She wouldn't have cared if she did.

Amber shifted beside her, more out of impatience than concern. "Seriously, you've been acting weird all week," she pressed, her voice tinged with frustration.

She wasn't used to Tara being so distant, and the idea that something might be slipping out of her control clearly bothered her. "What's your problem?"

Tara blinked, her mind sluggish, trying to catch up. It wasn't like she could explain it—not in any way that made sense.

How could she tell Amber that the cold shoulder she had been getting from you had thrown her completely off balance?

That it was the same cold shoulder she'd given you, over and over again, each time leaving you on the outside while she stayed wrapped up in Amber's world. How could she admit that now, when it was her on the receiving end, it felt like a punch to the gut every single time she saw you?

"I don't know," she mumbled, her voice barely audible. "I'm just tired."

It was the best she could come up with, the easiest excuse, but even as the words left her lips, she knew it wasn't enough.

Amber wasn't the type to let things slide, especially not when it came to Tara. She was used to being the center of attention, the one calling the shots, and when Tara's focus wasn't on her, Amber always took notice.

"Yeah, well, you've been 'tired' for a while now," Amber snapped back, her tone cutting through the brief silence like a whip.

She didn't sound concerned, not really—just annoyed, irritated that something wasn't going her way. "Maybe you should come out with me this weekend, you know? Party with me."

Amber's suggestion hung in the air between them, and Tara hesitated. Normally, Amber didn't bother to ask.

She'd go without her, living up the night on her own, letting Tara watch it all from the sidelines. She'd see it unfold through Amber's and other people's social media—photos and videos of Amber laughing, surrounded by friends, completely absorbed in her own world.

But this time, it felt different. Tara could feel it in the way Amber's eyes lingered on her, waiting, expecting something—expecting Tara to be excited, to jump at the chance like she would've done before.

But the thought of it, the thought of pretending everything was fine, felt suffocating.

She nodded anyway, forcing herself to give Amber the answer she was waiting for, even if it felt hollow. "Yeah. Sure."

But even as the words came out, Tara felt the weight of them, heavy and wrong.

Because the truth was, none of it mattered—not the party, not Amber's fleeting attention. None of it made a dent in the gnawing ache in her chest that had started the moment you stopped looking at her.

She told herself it was fine. She could play along. She had done it before. But deep down, Tara knew that no matter how much she tried to push it down, nothing could fix this disgusting feeling.

She sat in silence for a moment longer, staring at the ground as her mind whirred with thoughts she didn't want to have.

She clenched her jaw, trying to shake the feeling, trying to make herself believe that this—Amber, the party, all of it—would be enough. It definitely would've been before, hadn't it?

But now, the weight of your absence pressed in on her from every angle, heavy and suffocating. It wasn't supposed to feel like this. It wasn't supposed to matter so much.

Amber shifted beside her, sighing loudly. "Whatever, Tara," she muttered, standing up and brushing invisible dust off her jeans. "Don't get all weird on me."

Tara barely registered her leaving. The rush of relief she might have once felt in moments like these—when Amber turned her attention elsewhere—was gone, replaced by an ache she couldn't name.

A week ago, maybe two, Tara would've called after her, almost running to catch up. She would've asked if they could get ready together, spent half an hour agonizing over what she should wear, hoping for Amber's approval.

Her mind would've spun with questions, things she'd never needed to worry about when she was around you.

What should she wear? What did Amber want her to look like? Was her hair okay down, or should she try something new? She would've sent selfies for Amber's opinion, eager for a reaction, any reaction, to reassure her that she was enough.

But now, the questions didn't come. They felt distant, buried under the weight that had settled in her chest and refused to leave. Tara didn't care what Amber thought anymore. She didn't even care what she looked like.

The weekend came sooner than she had expected, almost sneaking up on her while she drifted through the week in a haze.

Throughout the week, Tara had tried to text you. Just one message each day, nothing too desperate, nothing that screamed she was losing her mind over your silence.

But each time, the bubble turned green, and with every little notification, her hope that you might respond twisted into something bitter, something angry.

Were you with her? That girl from your English class, the one she'd seen you walking with down the hallways, laughing, your head bent close to hers like you didn't have a care in the world.

Tara's stomach knotted at the thought, her grip tightening on her phone every time she imagined the two of you together. Were you sharing the jokes you used to save just for her? Did you laugh the same way?

By the time Friday came around, the anger had wrapped itself around her chest, growing heavier each time she looked at her phone, still green, still silent.

It weighed on her as she stood in front of the mirror that night, staring at her reflection like a stranger. She had thrown on whatever was closest, not caring how it looked—not caring how she looked—and now, standing there, she could feel the frustration boiling over.

She looked terrible, and she knew it. The clothes didn't sit right, her hair was a mess, and she didn't even have the energy to fix any of it.

Normally, she'd have texted Amber for advice, asked her what to wear, how to do her makeup. They might've gotten ready together if Amber cared enough, Amber teasing her the whole time but never letting her leave the house unless she looked perfect.

But tonight, none of that mattered. Tara was angry—angry at herself, at you, at the girl you were probably with right now. She felt like she was spinning, her thoughts spiraling into a million catastrophic possibilities, each one worse than the last.

Maybe she just needed to see you in person. Maybe if she could find you, look you in the eye, and tell you how she was feeling right now, you'd understand. Maybe that's what would finally break through this silence.

If she could just get you to listen, maybe if she could tell you all of it—how she didn't know what she was doing, how none of it made sense to her—you'd understand.

But would you even believe her? Would you even want to hear her out?

Without thinking twice, she pulled out her phone and typed out a message to Amber.

can't make it tonight. smth came up.

She didn't even wait for a response before throwing her phone onto the bed, her mind already somewhere else.

Part of her wanted to look you up, track you down, and talk to you face-to-face. Whether you were with someone else or just avoiding her the way she'd been avoiding you —but either way, Tara was done waiting around for you to reach out.

She stood frozen for a moment, feeling ridiculous as the thought of showing up at your house unannounced settled in.

She could already picture how stupid she'd look, standing at your door, trying to explain herself. You'd blocked her—didn't that already say everything she needed to know?

But then that other girl's face flashed in her mind, the way you laughed with her, walked next to her in the halls.

The thought of her taking you away, of her being the one you shared everything with now, twisted Tara's stomach in knots. She couldn't let that happen. Not without at least trying.

She didn't want to be too late.

Tara hated how desperate she felt, how even after everything, after you'd blocked her, she was still running after you. But she couldn't help it.

Even if she had to look you in the eye and hear you say you didn't want her anymore, she needed to know for sure. She needed to fight, because the thought of losing you to someone else was worse than any rejection you could throw at her.

With a deep breath and her hands shaking, she grabbed her jacket and keys.

Feeling stupid the whole way, she headed out the door, her heart pounding with every step she took toward your house.

___

didn't think u were weak enough to back out.

guess i was wrong.

Amber's text lit up her screen, but Tara barely glanced at it.

Normally, Amber's words usually stung, leaving Tara questioning herself, doubting everything. But tonight, they barely registered. She didn't care anymore, not about Amber's opinion or her insults.

The thought of how she'd been stringing you along—pushing and pulling, hot and cold—made her stomach twist in a way Amber's games never had.

Tara had always hated how Amber toyed with her, how she'd be there one day and gone the next, keeping Tara on a leash just long enough to never fully let go. Now, she realized, she was doing the same to you. She'd been selfish, scared, and now it was coming back to haunt her.

Amber had dragged her through the same emotional mess for so long—back and forth, never knowing where they stood—and now she had done the same to you.

It wasn't about Amber anymore. It was about you. And she wasn't going to let you slip away without at least trying.

She made it to your house almost sooner than she'd liked. The sight of your front door tightened the knot in her stomach, something she wasn't used to feeling.

Tara wasn't the nervous type—usually, she could handle herself in any situation, always sure of what she'd say or do. But now, her palms felt damp, her breath catching every time she thought of you opening that door.

She didn't know what she was going to say. Hell, she didn't even know if you'd open the door. But she had to try, even if her nerves were making her feel like a complete idiot for being there.

But she was already here, and she'd come this far—she couldn't just turn back now. She'd fought her way through every doubt to get here, and backing down wasn't an option.

Her feet felt heavy as she took each step up the walkway, the familiar creak of the wooden steps underfoot echoing louder in her ears than it ever had before.

The closer she got, the more every little detail stood out—the chipped paint on your door, the soft glow of light seeping out from the window.

She raised her hand to knock, fingers hovering just inches away, her heart pounding so loudly she wondered if you'd hear it from the other side.

Taking a deep breath, she let her knuckles tap lightly against the door, the sound swallowed almost instantly by the still night air.

It took long enough for you to answer that her thoughts had time to spiral. She knew your parents weren't home; in the little time she'd spent actually getting to know you, she'd learned that they hardly ever were.

You were probably home alone, and the idea haunted her—maybe you'd invited someone else over, maybe you weren't even alone at all, maybe you were with that girl she'd seen you with before.

By the time she heard footsteps approaching, her heart was beating so fast she almost felt sick, every possibility fighting for space in her mind.

Finally, the door swung open, and for a split second, there was a soft smile on your face.

But the moment your eyes landed on her, it vanished, replaced by something unreadable.

It wasn't anger—your expression was calm, almost neutral, yet there was a guardedness to it, like you'd been caught off guard, not entirely prepared to see her standing there.

The warmth in your eyes had dimmed, leaving something harder to read.

Tara couldn't tell if that look meant you were relieved or if she was the last person you wanted to see right now.

For a second, Tara felt so small. She knew she was short, but this was different—she'd never felt this out of place, like she was shrinking right there on your doorstep. Not since Amber.

Her fingers fidgeted, tracing over her knuckles as she tried to read you, to figure out what was going on behind that guarded expression. She barely registered the sound of her name until she heard your voice.

"Tara.. Hi."

The words hung there, making the quiet between you even heavier.

Tara didn't respond right away, too caught up in the questions swirling through her mind.

Had she interrupted something? Were you expecting someone else—someone who actually wanted to be here?

Her mind raced, flashing back to all the times you'd tried reaching out, inviting her over, and all the times she'd ignored you, too wrapped up in the momentary thrill of Amber's attention.

She hadn't let herself think about what that might've felt like for you.

And now, standing here, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was karma—that maybe you'd moved on, found someone else who didn't make you feel like a backup option. What if, after all this, she was too late?

Finally, after a moment, she managed to speak, her voice barely above a whisper, unsteady.

"Were... were you expecting somebody else?" Her words faltered, her gaze fixed on her hands as she twisted her fingers together, almost as if she could hold onto some kind of confidence.

You furrowed your brows just slightly, a small, almost confused smile pulling at the corner of your mouth as you let out a soft, breathy laugh. "No... why would I?"

Tara's mouth opened, but no words came out right away. She hadn't expected you to look so genuinely surprised, and now she felt her cheeks warming, her gaze darting down as she scrambled for something to say. Her fingers twisted together, and she forced herself to meet your eyes again, feeling silly for even bringing it up.

"I... I don't know. I just thought... maybe." Her voice was barely a whisper, and she hated how uncertain it sounded, as if she'd already given away too much. But she couldn't help it—she just had to know.

You tilted your head slightly, still wearing that soft smile, though there was a hint of something knowing in your eyes.

"Is she.. ignoring you again?" you asked, the question so casual yet so pointed that Tara's breath hitched.

She knew you meant Amber—you didn't even need to say her name. And the worst part was, she felt a pang of guilt because, honestly, it wouldn't have been the first time.

She swallowed hard, feeling like her own answer was betraying her. "Actually... no," she said slowly, her voice faltering as she tried to piece together her words. "She, uh, actually invited me to a party."

Your expression shifted, that lightness fading from your eyes, and Tara's stomach twisted painfully when she noticed.

She hadn't expected you to react like that, hadn't anticipated that flicker of hurt crossing your face. And now, standing there in the doorway, she felt a rush of regret wash over her.

Before she could stop herself, she added, her voice barely above a whisper, "But I didn't... I didn't go."

You didn't respond right away, just looked at her, eyebrows raised, silently waiting. Tara shifted under your gaze, feeling smaller by the second, until finally, she started to speak.

"I know you probably... don't want to talk to me right now," she began, her voice a little too fast, like she was rushing to get the words out before she lost her nerve.

She took a shaky breath and continued, "I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. I mean, it's not like I've given you a reason to, you know, feel any different... or... yeah."

Her hand drifted up to her wrist, squeezing it as she fumbled for her next thought. "I... I messed up. And, I've been thinking about it, like, a lot, and it's just—I didn't know what I was doing. I mean, I thought I did, but then I... I didn't. And I didn't mean to make you feel like you weren't... important, or that I didn't care, because I did. I do."

She bit her lip, glancing up at you, unsure if she was making any sense, but she kept going. "I know it's probably too late to say any of this, and you've probably moved on, but I just... I don't know. I didn't want you to think that I... forgot about you. Or... or that you didn't matter."

Her gaze flickering down to the ground, then up to yours again, almost as if she's scared you'll walk away.

"That message where I told you to... that I didn't want anything to do with you..." She shakes her head, struggling for the right words. "I shouldn't have said that. I was... I don't even know what I was thinking. I just... Amber was there, and I felt like if I didn't, she'd—" She stops herself, clenching her fists a little, swallowing hard.

"And all those other messages.. I just kept trying to say sorry, but it was probably just... desperate, I guess. I didn't know how else to say that I... I wanted you, that I didn't mean it. That I still..."

Her words falter, and she sighs, rubbing her forehead as though exhausted with herself. "I know it probably doesn't make up for any of it, but... I swear, I didn't mean it. I never wanted to hurt you."

As soon as she stopped talking, a wave of embarrassment crashed over her, and it was all she could do not to cringe.

She hadn't even planned on saying half of what she'd said, and yet here she was, fumbling through one strained apology after another.

It felt messy, like she was just piling words on top of words, hoping that somehow they'd turn into something that made sense to you, that could somehow make things better.

But in her heart, she knew it sounded like nonsense, just a lot of desperate, pointless excuses that probably made her look even more pathetic.

And you just stood there, looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite read—somewhere between shocked and neutral.

The silence between you seemed to stretch on, making her rambling feel even more pointless, like each second of quiet only added weight to her mess of words.

Tara could feel her face heating up, and all she wanted was to take everything back, to make it sound right somehow—but she didn't even know what "right" would be.

Her fingers tightened around her wrist, her gaze dropping back to her worn out converses as the silence thickened around her. Part of her wanted to shrink back, to stop talking altogether, but she'd already put too much out there to turn back now.

So when you didn't answer, she continued.

"I... I want to do better," she said, each word a little slower, like she was searching for the strength to actually mean it. Her eyes barely lifted to meet yours, as if waiting for something—anything—that might tell her it wasn't too late.

Your hand, which had been holding the door open this whole time, finally slipped away. You clapped both hands against the sides of your thighs, the sound breaking the quiet between you two.

Then, with a tone that was almost unreadable, you asked, "Is that it?"

Tara's face fell slightly when your words cut through the silence. She searched your expression, looking for something—anything—that hinted at forgiveness, but the steady way you looked back at her made her stomach drop.

Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to speak, her voice barely above a whisper.

"So... you don't forgive me?"

Tara looked up at you, her eyes wide and glistening, almost like a puppy's, searching for any hint of understanding. It was a look she hadn't meant to put on, but somehow it found its way back to her face, a reflex from childhood.

She remembered using those same eyes when she'd gotten into trouble with her mom or when Sam wouldn't let her hang out with her friends. Back then, she'd wielded them like a weapon, a last-ditch effort to melt hearts and earn forgiveness.

Now, though, it felt different.

There was no intent behind it, just a genuine plea for empathy that made her feel exposed, and a wave of embarrassment washed over her as she realized how desperate she must look.

You took a breath before responding, your gaze steady but distant. "I do.. but I don't see why that matters because it'll all happen again." You said slowly, weighing each word.

Tara felt her heart sink at your words, the reality of what you said hitting her hard. She knew all too well how it felt to be caught in that cycle—Amber had done the same to her, repeatedly promising change only to slip back into old patterns.

It was frustrating and disheartening, and in that moment, she understood where you were coming from.

She took a shaky breath, trying to find her voice. "It won't... I promise it won't." Her tone was earnest, filled with a desperate need to be believed, to convince you that this time would be different.

Tara searched your expression, and as your words echoed in her mind—you did accept her apology—a flicker of hope ignited within her. It felt like a delicate promise written in cursive, intricate yet fragile, and she couldn't help but cling to it.

She tried to muster a soft smile, though it felt tentative, as if it might shatter under the weight of everything left unsaid.

"Can we... do you think that maybe we can try again?" The words tumbled out, filled with a mixture of uncertainty and determination. It was a fragile request, a chance she hoped wouldn't be met with rejection.

She could see the flicker of thoughts crossing your face. Your brow furrowed slightly, and she sensed the hesitation lingering in the air between you. It was as if you were weighing her words, measuring the sincerity of her apology against the weight of the past.

She couldn't tell if you were considering her request or if doubt still lingered in your mind.

It felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for a sign, desperately hoping that you would choose to leap with her this time.

After a long pause, a small, soft smile crept up on your face, the tension in your shoulders easing just a bit. You finally met her gaze, and the warmth in your eyes hinted at something Tara had been longing to see.

"Sure... yeah, I'd like that," you said, your voice gentle but firm, like a lifeline tossed her way.

Tara let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, her shoulders eased slightly at your response, something softening in her expression as she processed your words. It wasn't a promise, but it felt real enough.

A quiet acknowledgment that maybe this could lead somewhere different.

She looked at you for a moment longer, managing a small, uncertain smile as if not entirely sure this chance would hold but willing to take it anyway.

The silence lingered, weighty but almost comfortable. Tara held your gaze, her expression softening just a bit as she let herself settle into the quiet, not wanting to push any further. When she finally managed a small smile, it was tentative, as if she was holding onto it carefully.

"Guess I'll... see you around?" she asked, her voice a quiet murmur, like she wasn't entirely certain if she should even say it.

You gave a slight nod, already moving to close the door. The subtle acknowledgment was enough to let her feel that maybe, just maybe, things could shift—if only a little.

She shifted slightly, like she wanted to say something more but couldn't quite find the words. A small, unsure smile crossed her face as she looked up at you again, her voice softer.

With that, Tara turned to go, casting one last look back at you before turning around to walk away.

___

The next week, Tara's phone buzzed on her nightstand, pulling her from a the books scattered all over her bed.

She squinted at the screen, hoping to see your name lighting up, a sign that things were finally moving forward between you two.

Maybe it was about the plans you'd casually mentioned — plans that did not include Tara bringing out her frustrations in bed with you.

Instead, her heart sank a little as Amber's name flashed across the screen.

u free this friday?

For the first time, Tara felt a surprising clarity wash over her as she read the message. She didn't hesitate, knowing exactly how she wanted to respond without second-guessing herself.

In the past, she'd tiptoed around her replies, always afraid that Amber would judge her for whatever she said.

But now, after everything with you, she was certain of what she wanted. This time, there was no uncertainty clouding her thoughts. So, after a moment, she typed a quick reply.

im actually busy, sorry

With a breath of relief, she hit send and immediately blocked Amber's number. She felt a weight lift off her shoulders.

This time, she wouldn't be waiting for Amber's text, for promises that never changed anything.

She knew what she had now—this newfound sense of clarity—and what she wanted. And that was enough.

This was how it would stay.

[jackietaylorslesbianthoughts]

Wdym they tried to kill each other? They’re just in love, trust.

[elainiisms]

no you don't understand, attempted murder IS the most romantic expression of love

[lastdead]

[generosityimhere]

(un)happy pride month to all of my favorite (mostly doomed) ships

[dead-n-reckless]

SCREAM (2022) dir. Matt Bettinelli-Olpin & Tyler Gillett

[the-thing-withfeathers]

princess has a request (m.m + j.o)

a/n: extremely rough not at all proofread quick & short smut shot! written on vacation so very rushed. inspired by my annoyance at the start of my ovulation week today 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ and i also have been writing a seperate three-way fic for these two so i might as well keep it going.

pairing: jenna ortega x f!reader x mikey madison

warnings: SMUTTTT!!! strap on usage, cursing, pet names.

—

ping!

you received a notification on your phone. rolling over to your bedside table, you squinted at the screen.

damn it. fucking ovulation week.

you groaned and threw your phone over to the side of the bed. you noticed that both your girlfriends were gone, they must have already ducked out for work.

the smell of food in the kitchen proved you wrong though. you walked out to see mikey & jenna cooking breakfast.

you sleepily wandered over. mikey caught sight of you first as she was bringing plates out to set the table.

“hey sleepyhead.” she greeted you. jenna turned quickly and waved with a wooden spoon in her hand.

“morning…” you grumbled out. mikey snickered softly at your voice, you were still slowly waking yourself up. she made her way back to jenna.

you made your way over to where they were both standing, directly in front of the stove.

it didn’t take very long for your mind to lock in as your half-open eyes shot open when you realised exactly what was in front of you.

oh no. no. no. no. now was not the time. not when your senses were heightened. not when you basically had no control of your body.

mikey was in a skin-tight top, it highlighted the best of her physique. her waist was lined perfectly, and her chest was defined more than ever. she was in a pair of linen pants, a belt holding them up. a belt that you knew very well, the image of it tightened around your wrists from another night flashed through your head.

and jenna? just in a sports bra. she had a jacket covering up her shoulders but her abdomen was right there, for your perusal. as she twisted and turned, finishing up your breakfast, you watched as the lining of her stomach flexed at every small movement. her headphones were around her neck and her legs were covered by leggings, showing the strength in her calves, you were practically drooling.

why did you have to date goddesses?

“hey baby, what’s wrong?” mikey asked, noticing your hard stare. she furrowed her eyebrows at you.

“need you to fuck me.” you mumbled, absentmindedly. you didn’t even realise you said it.

“excuse me?” jenna spun around, food flying out of the pot with how fast she turned.

“hm?” you asked, turning your head between the two of them.

“our princess has a request for us, huh?” mikey teased, turning her attention to you. with ease, she picked you up and sat you on the kitchen counter.

you couldn’t even register what was happening fast enough. you heard the clicking of the stove turning off, jenna joining the two of you. mikey was already in the process of taking your sleeping shorts off. before you knew it, your bare ass was on the cold counter.

“what brought this on, baby?” jenna asked you. she pulled your left leg to the side while mikey pulled your right leg in the opposite direction. you were exposed for the two of them.

“you two just… looked so good.” you licked your lips, the two of them pinning your knees to the edge of the counter. you couldn’t even move if you dared.

“looks like we’re going to have to wear these more, darling.” mikey said to jenna, who nodded in agreement. mikey ran a finger up your cunt, your thights shook slightly, threatening to close. but the weight of your girlfriends was enough to hold them open.

“f…fuck…” you stuttered out, your bottom lip quivering at the touch. you felt a heat rush straight to your core, feeling yourself drip onto the wood.

“you’re glistening, babes.” jenna moaned softly. her finger prodding at your hole, trying to gather your arousal.

“jesus…” you muttered. you couldn’t take the teasing anymore. “c’mon… c’mon…” you pleaded with your girls.

“impatient, are we?” jenna asked, you couldn’t even get your answer out before she shoved two fingers into you. you let out a gasp at the intrusion.

her fingers pumped in and out of you, but slowly. you whined at the chosen pace, you wanted more.

but you got it in the form of mikey’s fingers circling your clit. the bumps from each of her fingers hitting your swollen bud with each rotation.

you cried out from the stimulation, your hands tangling themselves in both their hairs. they both leaned in, both their faces were buried in your skin. jenna was nipping at your jaw while mikey left wet kisses on your neck.

the stimulation on your soaked pussy had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. soft moans fell from your lips as your hands tightened in their hair.

you pulled jenna up first, connecting your lips. her kiss was gentle but passionate. her other hand landing on the small of your pack. she moaned softly as she tasted your lips.

you then did the same to mikey, capturing her lips. she was a bit rougher than jenna was, but you loved both their kisses just the same. her kiss was full of fire, her tongue licking across your bottom lip.

before you could give her access, jenna curled her fingers inside of you, earning a soft groan from you. your legs started to shake, pushing against their weight again.

“you can keep them open, baby.” mikey pinched your clit, you hissed at the pain but it only spurred you on more. your hips started to lightly roll against their hands, gaining more friction.

“fuck… mikey.” you moaned out at her stimulation on your clit. you doubled over, but jenna pushed you back up.

“jenna. faster, please.” you begged. your girlfriend obliged, her fingers moving faster.

you felt a white hot fury build in your stomach, your orgasm was building faster than the speed of light. you watched as they pulled away from your neck and connected their own lips, that tipped you over the edge.

“mmph, cumming!” was all you managed to get out before spilling your climax onto the kitchen counter. your legs threatened to close again as they shook, your orgasm washing over you like a volcanic erruption. “fuck…” you whispered out.

mikey & jenna released your legs, allowing you to clamp them shut, reeling from your high. mikey picked you up again as jenna jogged into the bedroom.

“we’re not done with you yet, pretty girl.” she said, pushing the plates off the dining table. they shattered all over the floor. you whined in protest, you had bought those plates.

“stop whining, whore. we’ll fucking replace them.” she spat out at you. you knew you were in for it now.

jenna came running back, stepping over the pieces of glass littered across the dining room. mikey pushed you down to lie on your back, you were now sprawled across the dining table.

you turned your head towards the two women standing at the side of the table. they were securing themselves into the strap-ons that you bought together. you sighed, your eyes fluttering at your view.

thank god.

you were lucky your dining table was so heavily reinforced. mikey pulled you to the edge of the table by your thighs, situating herself in between your legs. she ran the tip of her cock down to your hole, slowly pushing herself in.

you let out a loud moan, feeling yourself stretch out. it was like your cunt was molding into the shape of the fake, silicone dick. she started with gentle thrusts, letting you adjust. you gripped onto your tits, playing with your nipples with every thrust mikey gave you.

jenna mounted the table, her legs straddling the space just above your head. she slapped your hands away from your boobs.

“my job.” she scowled, “open.” she ordered you? tapping your lips with her own cock. you opened your mouth, looking up at her. she slipped the strap into your mouth, rutting into your throat while groping your tits.

she toyed with your nipples, they were hardening under her cold touch. she rolled them in between her fingers, pinching at them as she fucked your face.

“good fuckin’ girl. taking our cocks s’good.” jenna muttered but it was loud enough for you to hear. she watched as mikey rammed herself into you, her slow pace turning merciless.

mikey mounted both your legs on her shoulders. she was pounding into you, bottoming out completely. her thumb quickly added to the mix of pleasure as it flicked against your swollen clit.

your moans were muffled by jenna’s cock, tears starting to form in your eyes. you were gagging as jenna forced you to deepthroat her, the end of her cock poking through the skin of your jugular.

the overwhelming sensation of having both your girls fuck you with their cocks allowed for your orgasm to build quickly again. you tried to speak around jenna’s strap, signalling that you were getting close.

“gonna cum for us again?” mikey asked through her grunts, nearly pulling herself all the way out then slamming back into you. you nodded, your head bobbing on jenna. “okay you filthy fucking slut, cum on my dick.”

“yeah baby, you can fucking do it.” jenna reached down and took over rubbing your clit so mikey could focus on fucking you.

you cried out softly as you released. mikey kept her pace, so did jenna. they helped you ride your high out. you whimpered with jenna’s dick still in your mouth. they both pulled out at the same time.

“switch?”

“yeah.”

wait! switch?

jenna hopped off the table, taking her place between your legs. for a smaller girl, she had surprising strength. she flipped you over so you were on all-fours. she hopped back on the table and placed herself behind you.

mikey was already on the table when your eyes adjusted after being turned around. her cock standing proudly in front of her. jenna lined her cock up with your entrance, she entered you and started working on fucking you from the back.

mikey caressed your chin gently, opening your jaw up to make room for her strap.

“you taste yourself?” she asked and your eyes met hers. you nodded frantically as she gathered your hair into a ponytail, forcefully moving your head to suck her strap. “good.”

jenna pushed the small of your back into an arch. you were too weak to hold yourself up so your back followed her direction without question.

“such a good fucking whore.” jenna raised her hand, driving it down to deliver a slap to your ass. you groaned in pain, feeling yourself clench around her cock. “those noises are so cute, baby.”

saliva started to dribble out through your lips with how rough mikey was being to your mouth. not that you minded, you loved being manhandled by them, it was euphoric.

“just gotta fuck you til you’re dumb, okay baby?” mikey looked down at you, still forcibly bobbing your head up and down. you made an audible noise at her, almost like you were speaking, except you didn’t actually know what you were saying.

“looks like we’re almost there anyways.” jenna teased, you just had to take it. there were no words coming to your brain, you were reaching that point of being fucked out.

jenna’s nails dug into the skin of your ass, she fucked your hole aggressively, wanting you to reach that peak again. since you were reaching orgasm number three, it wasn’t very hard for her to achieve that.

mikey giggled as she fed you your arousal. your eyes were rolling into the back of your head as jenna delivered another slap to your skin. the sharp, stinging pain drove you insane.

mikey reached out to jenna, the two started to make out above you. you couldn’t see them, but you wish you could. the sound of their lips meeting made you even wetter.

“you can give us one more, can’t you, darling?” jenna leaned over, pressing kisses to your back. she mocked your whines, repeating after you as she coaxed them out of you.

“cum, baby. it’s just one more.” mikey yanked your head off her dick, forcing her to look up at her. she stroked the silicone strap as she looked into your soul. she kissed your lips, you could taste jenna on them too. their tastes mixed together made your brain turn fuzzy.

you felt your walls start to clench, jenna was struggling to thrust into you. she smirked and looked over at mikey.

“there it is. c’mon baby, you got it.”

“a— ah!” you let out a choked out moan as you came all over jenna’s cock. you slumped against the table, feeling your body turn into putty. jenna thrusted into you a couple more times to make coming down from the rush a bit easier. she slowly pulled out of you to avoid overstimulating you too much.

“so pretty when we fuck you.” mikey released your hair, planting kisses to your scalp. the pain lessened gradually as she rubbed the spot she pulled on.

ping!

you heard their phones go off at the same time.

“ohhh…” they said in sync. what was it?

“baby’s ovulating!” mikey chuckled, mocking you.

wait, when did they get your cycle on their phones?

—

author’s journal

okayyy, truth be told, this is so fucking messy, i don’t think i’m a massive fan of it. but call it practice! i’m writing another threesome with mikey & jenna and this is my trial run for it.

i wanna incorporate more passion, this is kind of a rushed one just cause i’m on vacation for a few more days. but i wanted to write this out cause i would lose motivation if i didn’t.

i always feel sooo unproductive when i’m not writing so i try to write something even if i know it won’t be up to par with my other works.

this is so far from proofread and edited but i just wanna know how i feel about posting it. i hope you guys enjoy it as well!

kisses xx