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shdysders · 29 days ago

Text

a cold table II

pairing: vada cavell & female reader

summary: in which vada deals with the consequences of actions she barely remembers performing.

word count: 5.9k

author’s note: this is the first imagine i ever actually planned to write a part two for.

You didn't show up to school the next day.

Vada had woken up to a pounding headache and an uneasy feeling in her gut, remnants of last night's reckless decisions swirling in her mind.

The dim light filtering through her curtains had felt like daggers against her eyelids, and she winced as she recalled fragments of the evening—smoke-filled laughter, Mia's playful teasing, and that moment when everything blurred into a haze.

The first thing she did was open up her phone, hoping to find a familiar good morning message from you, like you always sent.

Instead, all she found were old messages from yesterday that she didn't remember receiving.

You had asked where she was, if she was coming home soon, and reminded her that you loved her.

There was also a message from her mother, ordering her to go to school and stating that she didn't care how much fun Vada had the night before.

And the last part threw Vada off guard; her mother didn't know about Mia or that she had spent most of her evenings with her.

What was she getting at?

For a second she just laid there, the pounding in her head mirroring the whirlwind in her thoughts.

Flashes of the night before invaded her mind—giggling with Mia, the thrill of sneaking away, the haze of smoke, and the way everything spun around her.

Each memory felt like a dagger, twisting deeper as the weight of her actions settled heavily on her chest.

What had she been thinking?

She had always prided herself on being honest and loyal, and yet, here she was—betraying you in the worst way possible.

A glance at her phone brought no comfort. The screen flickered to life with your unanswered messages.

where are you?

are you coming home soon?

i love you.

Her stomach twisted at the thought of you, probably worried and upset, wondering why she hadn't answered. The idea made the heaviness in her chest even more suffocating.

She had to talk to you, but what would she even say? How could she explain what had happened without sounding like a fool?

Would you even want to hear her side? How could she make you understand what she barely remembered herself?

But the more she thought about it, the clearer those memories became. Each flashback hit her harder than the last—the laughter, the reckless decisions, and then Mia.

She had crossed a line, one she never thought she'd cross, and now the shame of it burned in her gut. The realization of what she'd done twisted her insides, making her feel sick.

Vada knew she hadn't been the nicest to you lately.

She had pushed you away more times than she could count, snapping at you when you were only trying to help.

But in her mind, you understood. After everything she'd been through, it felt like she had a free pass to be rude, to shut you out whenever the weight of her emotions got too heavy. You were patient, and she thought you'd always stay.

Now, Vada could picture your face in front of her before she even told you. The hurt, the confusion, the way your eyes would search hers for an explanation she didn't have. It made her stomach turn, imagining the disappointment you'd feel once you knew what she'd done.

Vada felt the panic creeping up again, thinking about how she'd have to come clean. How she'd have to tell you something she could barely admit to herself.

With a deep breath, she rolled over and forced herself out of bed, her legs shaky as if the weight of what she'd done was pulling her down.

She had no choice but to face the day, to face what she had done no matter how much she wanted to hide.

Going to school was unavoidable—especially if she had any hope of seeing you. She needed to talk to you, to explain, to somehow piece together the mess she had made.

She didn't know how she would do it, but she had to try. Seeing you was the only way forward, even if it terrified her.

___

As Vada walked into school, the usual hum of morning chatter felt distant, like it was coming from another world she wasn't a part of.

She kept her head down, her feet moving automatically down the familiar halls, but nothing about today felt right. Her nerves were buzzing, a constant reminder of the mess she'd created.

Mia wasn't here. She wouldn't be for a while—her dads had given her the option to switch to online school, something Mia had been all too eager to take. Vada couldn't help but feel a little jealous; Mia got to avoid all of it.

But you weren't there either.

Vada stopped by your locker, her eyes scanning the hallway, hoping to see your familiar face among the crowd. But there was nothing. No sign of you. Anxiety twisted in her chest, tight and unforgiving. You were always here by now. Where were you?

The absence of both you and Mia only made the weight of everything heavier, sinking deeper into her gut. You had to be here somewhere, right? Maybe you were just late... Or maybe you'd heard something. Maybe you didn't want to face her either.

The thought made her stomach churn even more. She'd been holding onto the slim hope that talking to you would help her make sense of what happened, but now, with you gone, all she had were her racing thoughts.

Vada stood there for a moment, frozen. Everything around her moved in a blur, but inside, she was stuck, unsure what to do next.

She was so deep in her own thoughts that she didn't even notice Nick coming up behind her until he practically jumped into her space.

"Vada!" His voice made her jump, her heart pounding from the suddenness of it. She whipped around to find him grinning, clearly amused by her reaction.

"Fuck," she groaned, clutching her chest, "Could you not?"

"Sorry, sorry," he said, holding his hands up, though the smirk on his face said otherwise. "Just thought I'd say hi since, you know, I didn't see you at all yesterday. Figured you were busy."

Vada blinked, her mind still trying to catch up. "Yesterday?" she repeated, her brow furrowing as she tried to recall what he was talking about. She hadn't been at school, sure, but what did that have to do with anything?

Nick nodded, clearly expecting her to pick up on something she wasn't. When she didn't, his expression shifted slightly, and he glanced away like he was trying to think of a way to backtrack.

"Yeah, you know," he shrugged, scratching the back of his neck as he muttered, "Thought you had some plans or something. So, uh, how was... you know, whatever you were up to?"

Vada felt a flicker of confusion, but she brushed it off. There was no way Nick could know she'd been with Mia last night.

Her head was already pounding with everything else, and she wasn't ready to unpack whatever Nick was hinting at.

Vada hesitated, her mind blank. The truth of what she'd actually been doing last night was a tangled mess she wasn't about to dive into with Nick. Not here, not now.

"It was... fine," she said, trying to sound casual, though even she could hear the strain in her voice. Her stomach twisted at the thought of what really happened.

Nick seemed to sense the shift, his smile fading just a little. "You good?"

Vada forced a shrug, not wanting to get into everything. "Yeah, just... tired, I guess."

Nick gave her a knowing look. "Right. Late night?"

She nodded, not offering much more. "Something like that."

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his tone casual but curious. "So... you did have fun?"

At first, Vada didn't catch the weight of his question. She glanced over at him, squinting slightly. "What do you mean?"

Nick blinked, caught off guard. "You know... last night? Thought maybe you were out doing something special."

The confusion on Vada's face was clear now, and Nick quickly backtracked, not wanting to press further. "Ah, forget it. I probably got the wrong idea," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe it was nothing."

Vada frowned, her stomach knotting up tighter. What was he talking about?

Her thoughts kept drifting back to you as they began moving through the crowded hallway, her phone in hand, checking for any messages that weren't there. You were always the first to text in the morning, but today, there was nothing.

"Hey, uh," she began, glancing up at Nick, "Do you know where Y/n is? Is she sick or something? She didn't text me."

Nick frowned slightly, his confusion deepening. "Wait, she didn't text you?"

Vada shook her head, pulling her phone out and glancing at the empty screen as if it might somehow change. "Yeah, nothing."

He scratched the back of his head, clearly thrown off. "Weird. I thought you guys were, like, together yesterday."

Vada's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean together?"

Nick hesitated, his eyes flicking between her and the hallway ahead. "I don't know, I just assumed. You guys are always together. Figured she'd be with you or something. Guess I got it wrong."

Vada felt her chest tighten. There was something about the way Nick said it that left her even more uneasy. He didn't seem to be making sense, and the idea that you could've been anywhere near her last night without her remembering hit her like a wave of panic.

"Oh," she muttered, trying to brush it off, "Yeah, no, I haven't seen her."

Nick glanced at her, his confusion lingering, but he didn't press it further. The silence stretched between them as they continued down the hall, but Vada's mind was spinning. If Nick thought you had been with her... then what had she forgotten?

"I wouldn't worry too much. She'll probably show up." Nick added, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah," Vada muttered, but her mind was racing with worry. What if something had happened? Or worse, what if you knew about it? About what she'd done.

Before the class started and the teacher began talking, Vada quickly pulled out her phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she typed out a message to you.

sorry i didn't answer yesterday. i'm at school rn though. are you not coming?

She stared at the screen for a moment, her thumb hovering over the send button before finally pressing it.

By the time she got home, she found herself curled up on the couch in her family's living room, her phone still in her hand. Throughout the day, she had sent you a few more messages, each one more desperate than the last.

are you sick?

or are you sleeping?

why aren't you answering?

i'm really sorry for not texting you back. please talk to me.

do you want me to come over?

Her fingers hovered over the screen, the guilt gnawing at her. She kept typing out new messages, only to delete them again, unsure of what else she could say. Nothing felt like enough, and the silence on your end was only making things worse.

At first, when you didn't answer in the morning, Vada had convinced herself that you were just asleep, hoping that was the reason for your silence.

But now, with the time creeping closer to four o'clock, that thought wasn't offering much comfort anymore. Her hope was fading fast, replaced by a gnawing pit of anxiety that only seemed to grow with each passing hour.

Finally, she typed out one last message, her heart racing as she pressed send.

have you heard anything?

It was vague, but it was all she could manage. She didn't want to admit the fear that had settled in—fear that you might have heard something about her night with Mia.

She didn't even know from whom you could have possibly heard it, but the thought of you being upset gnawed at her.

The TV flickered to life in the background, the news anchor's voice blending into a monotonous hum as he rambled on about the weather.

Vada barely registered his words; her mind was elsewhere. She had tuned out once the shooting had happened, the memories still raw and haunting.

It wouldn't surprise her if they were still covering it weeks later, discussing the fallout and the victims. The world felt heavy with tragedy, and she couldn't shake the feeling that her own turmoil was just another layer on top of it all.

Amelia was sitting next to her, a little further down the couch but still close enough that Vada could feel her presence.

Surprisingly, Amelia seemed to be paying attention to the news, her eyes fixed on the screen while playing with her hair, probably just trying to figure out what the weather would be like tomorrow so she could plan her outfit.

Every few minutes, though, Amelia would glance over at Vada, a hopeful and excited look crossing her face, like she was waiting for Vada to say something—something she didn't know yet.

Vada could sense the anticipation in her sister, as if Amelia was expecting to be let in on a secret, her eyes practically begging for some kind of revelation. But Vada had nothing to say, nothing to offer.

So when she realized Vada wasn't going to say anything, she couldn't hold it in any longer. Practically bouncing in her seat, a wide grin spread across her face as she blurted out, "Did she give you a gift?"

Her voice was filled with excitement, the kind of eagerness that only Amelia could manage, her tone bright and full of energy.

It was like she couldn't contain her curiosity, and her entire expression lit up with that signature look of hers—one that always made Vada feel like Amelia was living vicariously through her.

Her whole face lit up with a smile, as if she was already imagining the details in her head, too giddy to sit still.

Vada turned to Amelia, her brow furrowing in confusion, eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to make sense of her sister's words. "What are you talking about?"

Amelia's grin faltered for a moment, her excitement dimming as she sat up straighter, turning fully toward Vada. Her brows lifted, like she was waiting for something to click. "You know, a gift," she repeated slowly, her voice a little more deliberate now, as if she thought Vada was joking or trying to mess with her.

Vada's face remained blank, still not catching on, and Amelia's smile wavered again. She leaned in a little, her expression shifting from playful to confused, the eagerness fading just a bit.

"For your anniversary?" Amelia's voice softened, her tone almost hesitant now, as if she was starting to wonder if she'd gotten it wrong.

Vada blinked, her confusion deepening, and it must've shown on her face because Amelia's smile disappeared entirely, replaced by a puzzled frown.

Amelia's frown deepened, her brows knitting together as she tilted her head slightly, studying Vada's blank expression. "Wait... you guys had that dinner yesterday, right? For your anniversary?"

Vada blinked again, her stomach sinking as she felt a wave of unease wash over her. She could see Amelia searching her face, looking for confirmation, but Vada had no idea what she was talking about.

"Anniversary dinner?" Vada repeated, her voice uncertain, as she tried to piece together what she had clearly missed. Her mind raced, flipping through the events of the past day, but all she could recall was being with Mia.

Vada's heart slammed against her chest, panic creeping in as she grabbed her phone with shaky hands. Her mind raced as she unlocked it, her gaze locking onto the date.

November 23rd.

Her breath hitched. Yesterday.

November 22nd—the date that should've meant everything.

Three years ago, on that day, she had asked you to be her girlfriend. Three years.

Her stomach churned as guilt surged through her, heavy and unrelenting. How could she have forgotten something so important? The realization hit her like a punch to the gut, stealing the air from her lungs. Her thoughts spiraled, tangled in disbelief and regret.

She'd missed your three-year anniversary.

The thought sent a shiver down her spine; you two always found a way to celebrate your love, no matter how many years passed.

It was a tradition that reminded you both of the bond you'd nurtured since the beginning—a promise that, no matter what life threw your way, you'd always have each other.

Her fingers tightened around the phone, warmth creeping to her cheeks as shame took hold. She hadn't just failed to text you back; she'd failed to honor the day that had meant so much to both of you.

With each shallow breath, the weight of her mistake deepened, twisting in her gut like a knot that wouldn't untangle. How could she have been so careless?

When she finally tore her eyes away from her phone and looked back at Amelia, her sister's hopeful expression had dimmed slightly, her confusion evident. But Vada couldn't focus on that now.

Instead her thoughts spiraled back to last night, who she had been with. She could picture the laughter, the warmth of the moment shared with Mia, how effortlessly they had fallen into each other's company. They had talked for hours, their conversation weaving a tapestry of familiarity and intimacy that felt so right during the haze.

But that only deepened the ache in her chest now. The joy of being with someone else, the carefree way they had spent the evening together, felt like a betrayal in the light of what she had neglected with you.

Vada recalled every smile, every touch that had drawn her into that bubble of happiness, yet it was overshadowed by the guilt of not being present for the one person who actually mattered.

How could she have forgotten the significance of that day, when you had been there all along, waiting for her to acknowledge it?

Vada's heart raced as the weight of her realization crashed down on her.

Everything made sense now—the way Nick had been acting at school, the way he'd looked at her with that questioning gaze.

And her mother's text echoed in her mind. "I don't care how much fun you had yesterday." It hit her like a ton of bricks.

She was supposed to come home that night, to be with you. You had planned something special, something to celebrate.

But Vada couldn't remember seeing you when she got home. She couldn't even recall what time she had stumbled through the door.

Had you given up and arrived home before she did? The thought made her stomach twist painfully.

"Oh my God." Her voice came out shaky, barely above a whisper. Panic surged through her, and she jumped to her feet, almost stumbling over the couch in her haste.

Without a second thought, she sprinted into the hall, her mind a blur. She fumbled with her shoes, barely bothering to tie them as she slipped them on. Amelia's voice echoed from the living room, filled with confusion and concern. "Vada! Where are you going?"

But Vada couldn't focus on her question. All she could think about was you, the hurt she had caused, and the urgency to make things right.

The front door swung open, and she bolted outside, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she raced down the path, adrenaline propelling her forward.

Vada ran, her heart pounding in sync with her frantic steps. She barely registered the freezing autumn air cutting through her skin, the chill seeping into her bones as she dashed through the streets in her basketball shorts.

The cold didn't matter; nothing mattered except getting to you.

Each stride felt like an act of desperation, a desperate push against the guilt weighing heavily on her heart.

She knew she had to see you, to face you, to tell you everything. The thought of what she had done loomed over her like a dark cloud—she had slept with someone else, and it had been on your anniversary.

The weight of that betrayal twisted in her gut, and she felt sick with the knowledge that she had shattered something precious between you.

She couldn't go another second without telling you what had happened, without laying bare the truth that had been eating away at her.

But the second she stood outside your house, knocking on your door with a trembling fist, the weight of her guilt crushed down on her.

When the door swung open, revealing you on the other side—your worn T-shirt clinging to your frame, messy hair catching the light in just the right way—her throat tightened, and she felt like her mouth was sealed shut.

You looked so effortlessly beautiful, as you always did, and the sight of you made her heart ache even more.

The words she had rehearsed over and over vanished from her mind on the way there, replaced by an overwhelming rush of emotion.

All she could do was stare at you, her heart pounding loudly in her ears, the enormity of the moment leaving her frozen in place.

You tried to give her a tired smile as you stood by the door, the familiar warmth of her presence mixing with the cool evening air.

"Hey," you said, your voice gentle yet tinged with exhaustion. But Vada couldn't reply. She just stood there, her eyes wide, taking in the sight of you.

The way your hair fell softly around your face, how your expression shifted from surprise to concern—it all hit her like a tidal wave.

You were her girl, the one she had almost forgotten in the chaos of the past weeks.

In that moment, everything else faded away—the frigid autumn air, the urgency of her earlier thoughts—all that mattered was you.

Yet, as the silence stretched between you, the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air. Vada trembled, her heart racing as she searched your face, desperate for understanding.

With each passing second, the realization of her mistake clawed at her insides.

The memories of last night flooded back, the laughter, the thrill, and the way she had betrayed you—all of it crashed down like a storm. She felt a lump rise in her throat, and finally, the words slipped out, barely audible. "I'm sorry."

Tears began to pool in her eyes, glimmering like shattered glass in the dim light, each one a testament to the guilt and regret that had been building up inside her.

She wanted to explain, to tell you everything about what happened with Mia, but the truth felt lodged deep within her, impossible to express. All she could do was stand there, shaking, waiting for your response, wishing she could take it all back.

Your eyes searched hers, reflecting confusion and hurt, and she felt her heart break at the sight. The silence hung like a thick fog, and in that moment, she realized just how much she had risked.

The fear of losing you washed over her, and she fought back the tears, wishing more than anything that you could understand how truly sorry she was.

You looked at her, brow furrowing in confusion. "Sorry for what?" you asked, but you knew exactly what she was talking about.

Still, you needed her to say it. You wanted to hear the truth come from her lips, to know she was ready to face what she had done.

The silence stretched out between you, charged with unspoken feelings. As she trembled, tears pooling in her eyes, your heart ached for her, for the pain that had driven her to this moment.

You needed her to confront it, to acknowledge the hurt—not just for you, but for herself, too.

So you watched her, waiting for the truth you already knew she was fighting against.

Vada didn't want to tell you. Her mind screamed at her to keep it inside, to bury it somewhere deep where neither of you would have to face it.

But her mouth—the one that always said too much, the one that never knew when to stop—was on the verge of betraying her again.

She shook her head, her hands trembling as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest, trying to hold it all in.

But the words pushed at the back of her throat, her lips quivering as she tried to bite them back. Her thoughts were racing, tumbling over each other.

Don't say it. Don't. You'll lose her. You can't say it.

But the more she tried to keep it in, the harder it got. Vada felt her chest tighten, like there was no room left for her guilt, her shame, or her fear. Her too-big mouth, always moving when it shouldn't, was about to undo her.

"I—" She stammered, her voice breaking. "I didn't mean to... I didn't..." She could feel the truth clawing its way out, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop it. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision as she looked at you, her heart in her throat.

"I'm sorry I forgot. I wanted to be with you, I swear. I was... I don't know, I just... I don't know what happened." Vada's voice cracked as she rambled, words spilling out before she could stop them.

Her hands shook, and she ran them through her hair, her breathing uneven. "I didn't mean to forget. I don't even know how I did, but I did, and I'm sorry."

She looked at you, her eyes wide with panic, like she was searching for a way to fix something she knew she couldn't. "I should've been with you, I know that. I just... I don't know what happened."

There was no real excuse, and she knew that. She wasn't just talking about forgetting the anniversary anymore, and the weight of that realization pressed down on her chest.

Her words tumbled out in a shaky rush, her breath catching between sentences as she struggled to form coherent thoughts. She looked frantic, her hands tugging at her hair as if trying to pull herself back to the present, back to you.

"I wanted to be with you," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper now, almost like she was pleading with herself as much as with you.

Her gaze flicked from your face to the ground, then back to your eyes, searching for any sign that she could make this right, that somehow she hadn't ruined everything.

But the more she tried to explain, the more lost she seemed to become, her mind spinning in circles she couldn't escape.

Vada's heart thudded loudly in her ears as she braced herself for your reaction, her mind running wild with what was about to happen.

She tried to prepare for the look on your face—the anger, the hurt, maybe even the disgust she thought she deserved. Would you yell? Walk away? She didn't know what was coming, but she felt like she had it coming, something heavy, something unbearable.

Her throat tightened as she tried to continue, the words sticking like they didn't want to come out. Her hands clenched into fists by her sides as she stammered,

"I was with—"

But before she could finish, you interrupted, your voice calm but firm. "I know."

The simple statement stopped her in her tracks. Her breath caught in her chest, and she froze, staring up at you in shock.

Her heart pounded, her mind scrambling for words that wouldn't make things worse, but nothing came.

How could you possibly know?

She had barely been able to admit it to herself, let alone think of how to explain it to you. Her hands fidgeted nervously at her sides, and she felt a knot forming in her stomach, waiting for your answer, dreading it just as much.

"How?" Her lips trembled, and she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from yours.

Confusion and guilt churned in her chest, making her feel even more trapped in this moment she couldn't escape.

Your lips twitched into something that almost resembled a smile, but there was no joy behind it. It was more of a bitter acknowledgment, the kind of smile that comes when things hurt too much to be angry. "You really don't remember?"

Vada's panic surged as the reality of the situation settled in. What did you mean by that? she thought, her mind racing with uncertainty.

Had she really messed up so badly that you knew something she didn't?

Did Mia tell you? Her stomach churned at the thought. She racked her brain, trying to piece together the night before. Had she called you?

Was there something she had said that she couldn't remember? The more she tried to recall, the more her memories slipped through her fingers like sand.

She felt lightheaded, the cold autumn air biting at her skin, but she barely noticed. All she could focus on was the fear that clawed at her insides.

What if you knew everything? She couldn't face that possibility. Her heart raced, and she searched your face desperately for clues, wondering if you were hiding something from her or if you were simply waiting for her to spill the truth.

What do you know? The thought screamed inside her, but she couldn't say it.

Instead, she blinked, her voice barely audible as she stammered, "What... what do you mean?"

You watched her closely, gauging the reaction that flickered across her face. "You were with Mia," you said, your voice steady.

"You guys got drunk, smoked weed, and then you fucked.. I mean, that's what you told me last night, but was there something else?"

Vada's eyes widened in disbelief, the reality of your words crashing over her like a cold wave.

She could hardly breathe, the weight of her actions crashing down upon her. "No... I..." she started, her voice shaky as she tried to piece together the fragments of her memory.

She felt exposed, vulnerable under your gaze, like she was standing naked before you. She knew what she had done, but hearing it laid out so plainly made it feel more real, more unforgivable.

The fear of what she had lost clawed at her insides, and she felt tears prick at her eyes as she searched for the right words. How could she explain it? How could she make you understand?

Her heart raced as she struggled to form the words, each syllable heavier than the last. "I'm so sorry," she stammered, desperation lacing her voice. "I was drunk... I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I swear, I only want you."

She took a shaky breath, trying to gather herself, but the emotions swirled inside her like a storm.

"You're the one I care about, the one I want to be with. I messed up, and I get that, but please... please don't think that it means I don't love you." Her hands trembled at her sides as she met your eyes, searching for a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos she had created.

"I just... I was caught up in the moment and didn't think about anything else. But you—you're everything to me, and I don't want to lose you." The panic surged through her again, threatening to swallow her whole, and she felt the sting of tears welling up as she awaited your response, hoping against hope that it wouldn't be the end.

You didn't even look mad as you stood there, shifting the weight to your other leg. Your expression calm, almost resigned, as you simply said, “It's fine, Vada."

But it's anything but fine. The words hit her like a punch to the gut, and she felt her heart drop even further. She didn't want you to be fine with it.

She wanted you to react, to feel the same rage and hurt that churned inside her.

Vada wished you would hit her, punch her, push her, or spit in her face—anything but brush it off like it didn't matter.

Your calmness made everything feel worse. But you continued, your voice steady but laced with a sadness that made her stomach twist. "I get that you're going through a lot right now."

But then, the air around her grew heavy as you added, "I just... I think it's best if we spend some time apart."

The finality of your words crashed over her, and Vada felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her.

Time seemed to stand still as she processed what you'd just said, the reality of the situation sinking in.

Every part of her screamed for you to reconsider, to understand how much she needs you, but she couldn't find the words.

Panic flooded her senses as she stared at you, her heart racing. "No, please don't say that," she said desperately, wanting to reach out, wanting to beg you not to walk away.

But she felt a heavy weight settle in her chest as she realized there was nothing else she could do. Nothing she could say would change what you wanted. And nothing she could do would change what she'd done.

When you made your mind up about something, it was like hitting a brick wall—there was no going back, no changing your decision. She always admired your resolve, but now that same strength felt suffocating, leaving her totally and utterly powerless.

She watched helplessly as a faint smile crossed your lips, though it didn't reach your eyes. "I'll see you at school, Vada," you said softly, the finality of your words echoing in her mind.

The urge to scream your name was building inside her, to fall to her knees and beg for your forgiveness. Every fiber of her being wanted to cry out, to make you see how much she needed you, how sorry she was.

But for once, her mouth was sealed shut. She couldn't force the words out.

If she tried to speak, she feared she'd either throw up from the overwhelming guilt, or worse—say something that would ruin everything beyond repair. So she stood there, paralyzed, as you offered that faint, distant smile.

Before she could respond, you turned and closed the door, leaving her standing alone on the porch, a whirlwind of emotions crashing around her.

As the door clicked shut, the finality of it echoed in Vada's ears, louder than the pounding in her chest. She stared at the door, half-expecting you to open it again, to tell her you were just angry, that things would be okay. But the silence was deafening, and the cold night air wrapped around her like a vice.

For a moment, she stood there, frozen in place, waiting for something—anything—that wouldn't come.

And then, finally, the weight of it all hit her. Her legs gave out, and she sank onto the porch steps, burying her face in her hands as hot tears spilled down her cheeks. There was nothing she could do now, nothing left to say. You were gone, and she was the one who had driven you away.

Her body shook with sobs, and the world felt emptier than it ever had.

#jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #vada cavell x reader #wednesday addams x reader #mabel x reader #melissa barrera x reader #sam carpenter

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persevereforahappyending · 2 months ago

Text

No Man's Land |1|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Talks of Killings and Murder

Word Count: 3.5k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Sam sighed as she put her key in the door, slowly unlocking each of the locks. She wanted to go to the gym after her shift, but she forgot her gym bag at the apartment. She really needed to look into renting one of the lockers the gym had. Her gym wasn’t too far away but coming home meant having to deal with Tara and her friends.

“Hey,” Sam greeted.

Tara was stretched out on the couch, Chad had his knees pulled close to him as he sat on the floor, watching whatever movie they had thrown on, Ethan was curled up on one of the chairs, and then Anika sat in the recliner with Mindy draped over her. Sam opened her mouth to ask about Quinn when she heard the usual noise coming from Quinn’s room.

“They’ve been at it since we got home,” Tara mumbled, rolling her eyes.

Sam chuckled with a shake of her head. The only downside to Quinn as a roommate was how loud she was with her various partners. Sam made her way across the living room and towards her room. She quickly threw on a tank top and some sweats before grabbing her gym bag. She did a quick check to make sure she had a change of clothes, just in case, before grabbing her water bottle and making her way into the kitchen. As she filled her water bottle the sound of Mindy and Tara got louder, arguing about whatever they were watching.

“I’ll be back in an hour or two,” Sam said.

“Wait,” Chad said, making Sam stop just as her hand rested on the doorknob. “You’re going to the gym?” Sam nodded. “Cool if I join?”

“I thought you preferred the one on campus.”

“I do, but I missed my usual workout time and now it’s crowded,” Chad wrinkled his nose. “I don’t want deal with all that.”

It wasn’t that Sam didn’t want Chad to come with her, she liked working out with Chad. Mindy and Tara never wanted to step foot in the gym, Chad was literally the only person who would ever workout with her anyway. Chad was also a football player and had a solid routine, he taught Sam plenty when she first started working out.

“Fine,” she said.

Chad instantly jumped up from his spot on the floor. He rifled through his backpack until he finally pulled out a little gym bag. Chad was pretty much always ready to go to the gym, but he had a habit of doing a pretty intense workout and would always need a change of clothes.

The two of them waved goodbye to the others and began the trek to the gym. It was only about a fifteen-minute walk before the little, locally owned, gym came into view. It was the only thing in an otherwise abandoned parking lot, it was small, it was dated, but it had its own community. Sam knew she was all over the news, her history was out there for everyone to see, but not a single person in the gym ever questioned her or gave her a dirty look. Everyone who went to the gym was there to work out, they were also friendly and willing to help each other out if needed, and the owner was the same way, the kindest old man Sam had ever met. It was also a 24-hour gym, meaning Sam could get there in the middle of the night after a late shift and not be disturbed or she could go earlier, like now, and have the regulars around.

When they finally got there Sam swiped her badge, unlocking the door. As soon as they stepped into the gym Sam took in the slightly crowded room. Chad rested his hands on his hips and took a big whiff of the air. Sam glanced at him out of the side of her eye, furrowing her brow slightly.

“What?” Chad asked. “This is why I love coming here,” he gestured with his hands. “You can smell the sweat, smell the workouts being done!” Sam shook her head; Chad didn’t come to the gym with her often but whenever he did, he was like an overly excited child. “The one at school has great equipment but it all smells new,” Chad wrinkled his nose. “No matter what…” he began rubbing his chin as if he was contemplating the deep question as to how the gym could always smell that good.

Sam lightly slapped him on the shoulder and pushed him towards the weights. She had never worked out in Chad’s gym, she wasn’t allowed to since she wasn’t a student, but she had seen it a few times and knew Chad was right, the school seemed to have all the new equipment. Her gym didn’t have much, just a couple of each of the standard pieces of machinery. The gym had enough to give whoever came in a full workout, but everything was clearly worn-down from years of use. Sam thought the used equipment just added to the gym’s character.

As Sam followed behind Chad towards the weights she caught sight of you over in the back corner of the gym, where you always were. She shook her head, she was there to workout, the sooner she finished her workout, the sooner she could get back home, and the sooner she could go to sleep. They each put in their respective earbuds then each grabbed a set of dumbbells and began their warmup before they could get started on the true workout.

After a quick warmup Sam and Chad both made their way to the chest press machine. Sam did everything in her power not to look at you and only focus on her workout. You were in her peripheral and it was taking all her focus not to turn her head just a little more to get a better visual. She tried to focus on just getting her reps in and that be that. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to listen to her music as she finished up her last few reps.

“Hey,” Chad said, tapping her on the arm. She looked up to see he had already finished his workout and was now on his feet and stretching. “Spot me?” he nodded at a bench press that was open.

Sam nodded, she didn’t use the bench press often because she usually didn’t have a spotter and as nice as everyone was in the gym she didn’t want to inconvenience any of them by asking. As much as she wanted to continue her workout, she didn’t mind the break if it meant helping Chad.

Sam stood behind the bench as Chad got the weights into place then laid down. She got her hands ready, holding them under the bar as Chad got ready to start lifting. Sam stayed behind Chad, watching as he started doing his reps, ready to grab the bar if he needed. At least that’s what she was supposed to be doing. The bench press was on the opposite side of the gym still, but it gave Sam the perfect view of you.

Her gaze was intense as she stared straight ahead, stared straight at you. You were across the way, hitting the punching bag, like you usually were. You were one of the regulars at the gym and you ran on almost the same schedule as Sam. Sam had never spoken to you, she couldn’t deny that you were quite attractive though. Though being on such a similar schedule as her made her suspicious.

There were times, like now, when you were there, training with a few of the others around in the gym. Then there were times where it was late at night, and no one was in the gym save for you and Sam. Sam had almost left the first time she got to the gym thinking she was alone, only to see you there. The only reason she didn’t leave then or any time after that was because you never did anything. You would sometimes acknowledge Sam with a simple nod, like a lot of the regulars, and that was it, otherwise you focused on your workout. You didn’t really talk to anyone, though neither did Sam, the only time you truly engaged with someone else was when one of your buddies was with you.

Whenever you were there Sam’s eyes couldn’t help but gravitate towards you, even across the room. Maybe in another life, one where she wasn’t so paranoid, one where she was normal, she might have approached you, just over a year ago she would have even flirted with you, she might have even asked you out, but her life wasn’t normal. You were cute but you were mysterious, and a mysterious stranger was exactly what Sam’s life didn’t need.

“What are you looking at?” Chad asked, snapping her out of her daydream.

Sam looked down to see Chad had put the bar back up, even without her assistance. His hands still rested on the bar, but he was looking up at Sam curiously.

“Nothing,” Sam said, trying to brush him off.

This was exactly why she liked going to the gym alone. She liked to go to the gym and just get her workout done without any distractions, she also didn’t want the others to know about you. You were her little secret, her little crush, the first crush she had had since Richie. If any of the others had learned that she was even remotely attracted to you she’d never hear the end of it, especially not from Mindy or Tara. Despite hating the gym, if her sister and Mindy knew about you, they’d be begging her to come with her every day.

“Who is that?” Chad asked. He was now sitting up on the bench and looked back at Sam with a smirk.

Sam closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh, she was just hoping she wasn’t blushing. Based on the way Chad’s eyes darted from her to you she knew Chad had figured out exactly what she was looking at. “Nobody,” she mumbled.

“That,” Chad pointed at you with a light chuckle. “Is not nobody.”

“They’re just a regular at the gym,” she tried waving it off again.

Sam walked off, making her way to the treadmill. She was silently begging for Chad to drop it, she hoped that if she didn’t acknowledge it then he’d forget about it, he wouldn’t say anything to Mindy or Tara. She hopped on the treadmill and began at a slow and steady speed, she liked to work her way up to a light jog.

She stared straight ahead, ignoring Chad as he leaned against the side of the machine. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I go say hi to them then,” he said. Sam stumbled, nearly tripping over her own feet as she snapped her head towards Chad.

“Don’t,” Sam warned.

“I’m just going to ask if they want to spar,” he held his hands up but was already walking away from Sam and in your direction. Sam didn’t miss the slight smirk on Chad’s face as he made his way towards you.

Sam let out a huff and started smacking her feet harder as she quickened her pace. If she finished her workout early then she had every intention of leaving Chad there, she might even lock the door and refuse to let him in the apartment for the rest of the night. She couldn’t help but glance out of the side of her eye every few seconds, catching sight of Chad as he approached you and tried striking up a conversation. It didn’t seem to be going as he intended based on the way you were shaking your head as he gestured from himself to you and then to the boxing ring in the middle of the room.

Most of the time Sam saw you alone at the punching bag. You would have your earbuds in and just focus on hitting the bag, as if the entire world disappeared and it was just you and the bag. At other times, like now, when the gym was busiest, Sam noticed that sometimes you’d get in the ring with one of the guys and spar a bit. You always used the same guys though, you didn’t randomly grab someone, and it seemed like you tended to deny anyone who just came up you, like she was sure Chad was about to find out.

After a few minutes of trying to convince you, Chad finally walked back over to Sam with his head hung low. Chad jumped onto the treadmill with a dramatic sigh and began a light walk. Sam rolled her eyes, shaking her head at Chad’s ridiculousness and focused on finishing her workout.

“What happened?” Sam finally asked, taking pity on Chad.

“They said no,” he mumbled, kicking his feet at the treadmill as he continued to pout.

“They don’t usually spar with random people.” Behind Chad Sam could see you getting in the ring with one of your buddies. Neither of you had on any sort of gear besides the tape on your hands. “And I think you’re about to see why.”

Chad scrunched his eyebrow then turned back to where you were in the boxing ring, you and your buddy already circling each other. You waited for your friend to throw the first punch, like you always did. You blocked your friends’ first few shots then you started throwing your own punches. The two of you went back and forth, dealing blow after blow, each of you landed a few hits, but both of you blocked most of them.

“Damn,” Chad whispered.

Sam smirked as she went back to focusing on her workout. Despite never looking back at you she could tell you and your buddy were still at it based on the way Chad never changed the speed of his treadmill, his entire focus seeming to be on you. She wouldn’t deny it, watching you spar was something else, you clearly knew what you were doing, it was obvious you had some sort of training. Sam never understood why you didn’t spar with others who were willing, until she saw you for the first time, everyone else here was an amateur compared to you.

Sam turned off the treadmill and slowed her pace until she came to a gradual stop. “You good?” Sam asked. She took a swig of her water while she waited for Chad to acknowledge her presence again.

“What?” Chad looked back at her before quickly looking back at you. You brought your knee up, nailing your buddy in the ribs, then didn’t hesitate to punch him in the face. Chad visibly winced at the hit before hopping off the treadmill. “Let’s go!” he waved at her as if he was the one waiting on her.

Sam rolled her eyes and followed Chad. Before she walked out the door, she met your gaze as you turned in the ring, the two of you probably only held eye contact for half a second but it was enough to make Sam hold her breath. The last thing she saw before the door closed was you and your buddy resetting your positions and getting ready for another spar session.

Sam had to listen to Chad ramble about you the entire walk home. She usually wouldn’t mind her thoughts being consumed by you but since it was Chad rambling, she knew Mindy and Tara would surely hear about it. She was just hoping she could get into the apartment and into her room before Chad started telling them all the details.

Sam put the key in the door, unlocking all the locks once again. “They’re just so badass!” Chad said, his eyes wide as he gestured crazily with his hands. “I can’t believe you tried to keep them from me!” Sam sighed, pushing the door open.

“Who are you talking about?” Tara asked with a chuckle as soon as the two of them stepped into the living room.

“Another one of your lovers?” Mindy snarked, laughing at her brother’s expense.

“Not mine,” Chad quickly denied. “Sam’s,” he pointed back at Sam, who instantly froze as she dropped her keys into the little bowl beside the door. She didn’t need to look to know Mindy and Tara’s full attention was now on hers.

“You’re seeing someone?” Tara said. She was already on her feet and in front of Sam by the time she turned around.

“I’m not seeing anyone,” Sam sighed.

“Who is this mysterious stranger?” Mindy asked, coming up right behind Tara, leaving Anika to sit alone without a second thought.

“Y/N,” Chad happily supplied. All three girls whipped their heads around to see Chad placed at the dining table, popping open a yogurt. Sam tried to hide her smile, she hadn’t known your name, it was a nice name.

“Tell us everything!” Tara said, dragging Sam by the hand to the dining table.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Sam shrugged. “I don’t even-”

“They’re badass,” Chad interrupted, never looking up from his yogurt. “I asked them to spar, and they said no but then I learned why.” Chad looked up at the ceiling in a daydream like state, tapping his spoon against the yogurt cup. “I want to spar with them even more now.” Sam furrowed her brow, tilting her head at the comment.

“You’ve been holding out on us Sammy,” Mindy said, bumping her shoulder as she plopped down into the seat next to her. Sam flicked a glare at her, but Mindy’s attention was fully on Chad. “Spill,” she ordered, leaning half her body across the table.

Sam crossed her arms and slumped back in her chair. She had to sit there and just listen as Chad rambled on and on about you. She wasn’t sure how he could possibly have so much to say, he talked to you for not even ten minutes. He gave the girls a complete recap of their entire gym experience, Sam was definitely regretting allowing him to come with her. He gestured wildly with his hands, trying to mimic the same punches you had been doing.

“Wow,” Tara and Mindy said at the same time, both leaning back in their chairs once Chad was done.

“Are you sure you’re not in love with them?” Mindy asked, tilting her head at her brother.

“No!” Chad said quickly, a little too quickly. “I just think they’re amazing and I admire their workout routine, and I just want to get to know them and become their best friend…” Mindy nodded but gave her brother an unconvinced look.

“Can we go to the gym with you tomorrow?” Tara asked.

“They might not be there,” Sam mumbled without thinking.

“Oh!” Mindy screeched right in Sam’s ear. “You know their schedule.” She wiggled her eyebrows as she looked past Sam and at Tara who was giving her a knowing nod.

“We have a very similar schedule,” Sam defended.

“Sounds like a match made in heaven,” Mindy sighed, leaning into Sam’s side.

“I’m not looking for a relationship!��

“Come on Sam,” Tara sighed, much more calm than before. “You deserve to be happy. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“My last boyfriend tried to kill all of us,” Sam deadpanned, looking her sister in the eye.

Tara opened and closed her mouth a few times as she nodded. “But what are the odds of that happening again?”

“Guys!” Anika called, interrupting whatever excuse Sam was going to come up with next. “You have to see this.”

Everyone got up from the kitchen table and moved to the living room just as Anika turned up the volume. Everyone remained silent as the news played, talking about the murder of two college students. Sam didn’t even react to Quinn coming out of her room and joining them.

“It’s got everyone asking, is this the work of Ghostface?” the news reported said, ending the broadcast before showing the picture of the two boys murdered.

“Holy shit,” Mindy said. “Those are the dudes from our film class,” she pointed at the screen.

“We have to leave, now.”

“What? No!” Tara said, instantly trying to fight Sam. “We don’t even know what this is!” she pointed to the TV. “It could be nothing; they were clearly freaks!”

“Are you really willing to take that risk?” Sam snapped.

“Quinn! Call your dad,” Tara whipped around to look at their roommate. “Let’s at least figure out what’s going on before you uproot my life.”

Sam held Tara’s glare but didn’t argue as Quinn called her dad. She understood where Tara was coming from, she knew Tara wanted things to go back to normal and just wanted a normal college experience. Sam wanted to just cut and run though, even if there was no proof that Ghostface was actually back, she didn’t want to take the risk. Sam couldn’t help the feeling that it was starting all over again.

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x fem!reader #sam carpenter imagine #samantha carpenter #samantha carpenter x reader #melissa barrera #scream #scream 6 #scream vi #no man's land

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celiastjamesoscar · 11 months ago

Text

Night Shift

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader. Sam x reporter!reader

Summary: Sam blamed you for the 2022 attacks, she blamed you for everything. But guilt drives people into blindness, and Sam eventually finds herself seeking your comfort.

AN: this is the longest fic I’ve ever written, so I apologize if at times it seems redundant. Based off of this request!

Warnings: angst, slight cursing, mentions of past drug addiction, small part of canon typical Scream violence, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of alcoholism, Tara is a little shit. Let me know if I missed anything!

My Masterlist

Word Count: 18.0K

Nothing. That’s all you could think about as you listened to the sound of Tara’s heartbeat monitor. This was your fault. You were the reason Tara was now in the hospital with multiple stab wounds and a broken leg. If only you had gotten to her house sooner, she wouldn’t be in this position. All your friends tried to tell you it wasn’t your fault, that you had no idea some dipshit in a mask was going to attack her, but you knew better.

You were only nine when it happened, but you could still feel the sharp pain of Jill Roberts’ knife plunging deep inside of your abdomen. Sometimes, you swore you could still hear her black combat boots sneaking around on the wooden floor, and the only thing that would play throughout your mind was the sweet release of not having to look over your shoulder at every sound.

The sound of Tara’s heartbeat monitor increasing in speed pulled you out of your thoughts. “Hey, Tara. It’s alright,” you whispered to the sleeping girl, but you got no response. Her heartbeat monitor began peeping so rapidly, that your own heartbeat began thumping in your ears, and it eventually blocked out Tara’s.

Your heartbeat echoed throughout your ears as it continued its rapid pace of 150 beats per minute. You had no idea why you were anxious, but then your surroundings suddenly changed. You were no longer in the monotone gray walls of a hospital, but you now found yourself in Tara’s kitchen. The smaller girl was no longer in her hospital gown; she now wore a pink long sleeve shirt and jeans, and you instantly knew where this was going.

You tried to scream, but no sound left your throat as you watched Tara answer that dreaded phone call. The pounding in your ears continued as you began to sweat and frantically tried to move, but your feet were glued to the floor; no matter how hard you tried to move, you simply could not compel your body to move. You watched as Tara fought against Ghostface, and just like every night, you watched as Ghostface plunged his knife deep into Tara’s stomach. Over and over again.

But unlike the real events that conspired, you couldn’t save Tara. In this version, you watched as Tara bled out onto the floor, her crimson red blood staining the nicely wooded flooring. Her screams were the only thing that drowned out your heartbeat, and you begged it to stop.

“Y/N! Y/N, help me!” Tara cried out in a broken voice as blood now began to seep from her mouth as she tried to crawl toward you, but Ghostface stopped her. In a single motion, he leaned down to Tara and pulled her up by her hair, and slit her throat. When he stood up, you were met with those haunting hollowed out eyes, and when you blinked, the mask was gone.

Jill Roberts stood before you with murderous eyes as she slowly started to advance toward you. You tried to walk backward, but your feet wouldn’t move. Jill was not an arms length away, and you noticed the beautiful glint of light that reflected off the blood as she brought it down in a single motion.

Before the knife could sink into your chest, you were being shaken away. “Y/N. Get up; you’re having a nightmare,” the rough voice of Sam Carpenter stated as she awoke you from your nightmare.

Your eyes instantly shot up as you leaned up from the couch, checking your surroundings. “Oh, thank you,” you weakly replied as Sam let go of your shoulders and walked away from you, not giving you a response. Sam noticed the sweat that lined your forehead and caused some of your hair to stick to your face, but she didn’t care. Why would she care about someone that ruined her life?

Technically, it wasn’t your fault, but it was easier for Sam to blame you for what happened and she liked having it that way. It was her own fucked up way of keeping you at arms length while also always keeping an eye on you.

You checked your surroundings again and you were grateful that you were in your home and not that dreaded house that Tara used to live in. You had fallen asleep at some point on the couch and you left the TV running while your homework was spread out on the coffee table in front of you. You had gained a terrible habit of staying up until ungodly hours while trying to cram in information for your exams.

You groaned while standing up from the couch and you checked the time, 11:30 pm. If Sam was still here, that meant the rest of the girls were here as well, and you dreaded the thought of being around them. That was the worst part about living with Anika; you were constantly around the people that despised you. ‘People’ as in just Sam, but you liked to make it plural for the dramatic effect.

With a sigh, you grudgingly left the living room and went into the backyard, where a fire was going with the group huddled around it while sitting on hay bales. “Good morning, Y/N,” Tara teased with a gentle smile while scooting over on her hay bale, inviting you to sit next to her. “Yeah right,” you mumbled as you sat down next to the girl, ignoring the glance Sam threw at you, “What are you guys doing out here? It’s starting to get cold.”

“We were talking shit about you, but now we can’t do that with you out here,” Mindy joked as she rested her head on Anika’s shoulder. You and Mindy had a special ‘situationship’ going on for a while, but you two ended on good terms and occasionally picked on each other. “I hope it was good then,” you replied with a smile and Mindy nodded her head.

The conversation around the fire was an ideal one as you caught up with the group about any gossip you might have missed while you were asleep. Nothing sparked your interest too much, not until Tara mentioned Sam having a boyfriend.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Sam dryly stated as she stared down her younger sister, “We’re just friends, that’s all.”

“You have been saying that for months, Sam! All you two do is check each other out but you never talk! You have to give this guy a chance!” Tara exclaimed and you felt an unwarranted feeling of jealousy shoot throughout your chest. “What guy are you guys talking about?” You asked, starting to get more involved with the current conversion.

“This guy that has been after Sam’s heart ever since we moved here,” Tara casually remarked as she grabbed a stick and poked around the fire; the little shit had a thing for a fire.

You could feel Sam’s eyes burning into the side of your head as you racked Tara’s words around in your head. Sure, Sam was old enough to make decisions for herself, but the thought of her actually being with someone other than you makes you sick to your stomach. And just like the masochist you were, you had to ask Sam about it. “So why don’t you talk to him?”

Sam huffed, clearly annoyed by the fact that you, of all people, would ask her about her love life. “Why? So you can go and tell Gale about it? No thanks,” she dryly stated with a roll of her eyes.

“Hey, you little shit, that wasn’t Y/N! I’ve told you that before,” Tara defended as she comfortably put a hand on your knee, “And even if she did, I support her wrongs.”

“Tara, you’re not helping,” you whispered with a small, awkward laugh. A small groan left Sam’s lips as she stood up from the fire, “I’m going inside,” she said while walking toward the door to the house.

Once she was inside, Tara broke the tension, “I’m sorry she’s like that, Y/N. She doesn’t want to accept the truth.” The comfort from Tara was nice, it actually made you feel like someone at least cared for you that had the last name of Carpenter.

“It’s okay, no need to apologize on her behalf. I get it,” you said with a weak smile as you hid your pain. It was a stupid feeling: pain. You owed Sam nothing, but you still couldn’t help but feel a sense of guilt run through your body every time you saw the woman.

“So, Y/N, what’s it like fumbling an amazing woman like me?” Mindy playfully asked, her own way of trying to lighten the tense mood that had settled around the fire, “I need Anika to know how special I am.”

It was a shitty attempt, but it still put a smile on your face. “Mindy once got in a revolving door,” you said with a laugh, “she was in it for a solid 5 minutes.”

“Blasphemy!” Mindy shouted as she quickly stood up from her hay bale, “It was one minute and you didn’t help at all! And you let Tara record it!”

“Oh my god, I need to find that video,” Tara butted in as she pulled out her phone, quickly trying to find the video while Mindy tried to steal the phone from her.

It was small moments like these that you enjoyed with the group; moments were everyone was happy and they could forgot about their fucked up pasts. Those moments were rare, but you cherished them like they were your life support.

As time dragged on and the night got colder, everyone outside called it quits. Well, at least on being outside.

“Hurry up, Gizmo, I’m freezing,” Mindy joked as she walked behind Tara, almost stepping on the girl’s shoes. “Don’t call me a gremlin,” the shorter girl shot back with a glare as she approached the back door to your house, “apologize and I’ll open it.”

“Fuck you,” Mindy retorted as she made a move for the door, bud Tara was quick to react as she kicked one of Mindy’s shins.

“Apologize.”

“No.”

Several beats of silence pass by as you and Anika watch a stare down between the two friends before Mindy inevitably sighs with defeat. “Alright fine, I’m sorry I called Gizmo. You aren’t a gremlin, more like a fun sized Lord Farquaad,” Mindy said, trailing off toward the end of her sentence.

“Hey, hey! Stop it!” You exclaimed, quickly catching Tara’s fist that was inches away from connecting Mindy’s face.

You were too busy trying to keep Tara from ripping into Mindy that you didn’t notice Sam opening up the door until she spoke. “What the hell are you doing to my sister?”

The position you found yourself in was an uncomfortable one, to say the least. You were holding Tara from behind, with your arms holding the smaller girl’s ones back.

“Mind your business, Sam,” Tara stated in a strained voice, trying to get hold out of your tight hold, “this is between me and Mindy.”

Her sister’s words didn’t seem to phase Sam at all, as the older sister couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of you. The way you had your hands on her sister made her blood boil. Deep down she knew that you would never hurt Tara, but that didn’t stop the over growing feeling of protectiveness come through.

In a single motion, Sam stopped out of the house and gripped your bicep with her right left hand. When you looked down, you could see her veins in her hands as her grip tightened, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say that was trying to flex as well.

“Let her go,” Sam demanded, leaving zero room for arguing. So, you shrugged your shoulders and let go, not caring to warn Sam about the can of whoopass her sister was about to unleash on Mindy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She was like a tiger! A short-legged one with asthma, but a Tiger!” Mindy cried into her phone, telling her brother about her vicious fight with Tara. Honestly, it was impressive how quickly Tara moved to latch onto Mindy, but even more impressive how surprisingly strong she was. The wounds that Mindy sustained weren’t anything terrible; a small cut on her cheek and a busted lip, but nothing was hurt more than her ego.

“You asked for it,” Anika commented, but then gave Mindy a quick kiss for the look she received. You chuckled at the small encounter as you excused yourself from Tara, who had a smug smile on her lips. She knew where you were going, and she didn’t think about warning you that Sam was also there; it was like her own way of playing matchmaker—a shitty matchmaker, but still one nonetheless.

The kitchen was a weird place you found solace in; nothing was special about it. It was where you went when you needed a step back from reality. Another odd thing: Sam also found the same comfort in the kitchen. Maybe it was the quiet nature, or the dim lights that brought comfort, or even perhaps the shitty decorations that littered the walls, but whatever it was, there was a soft comfort.

“Hey,” you said upon entering the kitchen. Sam was leaning against the countertop, arms crossed over her chest as her eyes refused to leave the floor. To anyone else, it would have gone unnoticed, but not with you, not with it involved Sam. You noticed her slightly heavy breathing and the barely visible sweat that glistened her forehead. And when her eyes finally left the floor, you could see nothing but black in her irises.

It took not even a second before Sam finally snapped out of whatever trance she had found herself in and returned to her usual self. Well, about as normal as Sam could be. She quickly wiped the sweat off her forehead and recrossed her arms as she looked at you. “What are you doing in here?” She all but demanded; her eyes seemed never to leave you as she stared you down.

The question was a weird one, as this was your home, but you just chalked it up to Sam's bizarre way of asking, ‘Why are you here with me and not my sister?’

“Hanging out in the kitchen; it’s where I belong,” you said with a smile, and to your surprise, you managed to pull a chuckle from the Latina. It was a quick laugh, but it sounded like angels were singing in your ears, and you would go through hell and back with nothing but the Hamilton soundtrack to keep you busy if it meant hearing that laugh again.

Sam smiled faintly as she spoke, “Yeah, well, I’ve tried your spaghetti before; you don’t belong anywhere near the kitchen. I’m sure they would have sent you into the army and made your husband stay at home.”

“Okay, wow, that one hurt!” You exclaimed with a joking smile as you placed a hand over your heart, pretending to be hurt, “That one dug deep, but bold of you to assume I would have a husband.”

“Bold of you to assume I would care.”

A tense silence filled the air after Sam spoke, but it was a silence you were starting to grow comfortable with. And for the first time in her life, Sam felt terrible for what she said to you. She wanted to apologize for saying she didn’t care about you, but she couldn’t muster up the pride to admit she was wrong. So all she did was look at you sadly and hope you would pick up on it.

“You know, I seriously thought we were having a moment,” you halfheartedly joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

It took several seconds before Sam replied, just as you walked out of the kitchen, “Yeah…I don’t really think the whole ‘husband’ thing would work out for me either.”

This comment certainly caught you off guard. “Why is that?” You asked while returning back to the kitchen, clearly interested in what Sam had to say, “Not much of a marriage person?”

Sam shuffled awkwardly on her feet as she uncrossed her arms, gripped the counter behind her, and looked down at the floor. “No, it’s not the marriage part. It’s the man part,” she admitted while slowly looking up at you with the most vulnerable eyes ever. The look she gave you said a thousand words: this was something not even Tara knew about.

Sure, the Carpenter sisters shared everything, but Sam wouldn’t share this. Her attraction toward women was something that further ruined the bond between her and her mother, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to let it ruin her relationship with her only family left. Of course, Sam knew about Tara’s relationship with women, especially once she found out about Tara and Amber, but she still couldn’t help the feeling of being afraid to disappoint Tara.

But before you could comfort Sam, before you could tell her that her fears meant nothing and that Tara would still love her, you got interrupted. “Sam! Y/N! Get your asses in here!” Mindy yelled from the living room, “We want to watch this movie with you two!”

Sam quickly got rid of the vulnerability on her face when she heard Mindy’s voice, not wanting to show that kind of weakness to anyone.

“Sam-” you started, but the woman quickly brushed past you, subtly wiping a tear from her eye as she walked into the living room.

Following behind her, you entered the living room and sat at the only open spot on the couch, which was conveniently next to Tara, who had Sam on her other side. “Thank god, I was starting to think you two were fucking in there or something,” Mindy remarked as she grabbed the tv remote, “Let me introduce you guys to the scariest movie on the planet: The Cat in The Hat Live Action!”

The rest of the night was filled with laughter and playful teasing as the hours slowly seeped into the early morning hours. The small banter between Mindy and Tara kept things interesting; Mindy compared Tara to the Things, as Anika tried to keep it peaceful. The stolen glances you shared with Sam had their conversations, and when you went to bed that night, you would consider this night a step in the right direction at changing your relationship with Sam.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One thing Sam hated about working a 9-5 was how inconsiderate most of society can be. It was already a busy day at the cafe, more alive than average, and her nerves were already shot for the next and a half. From people complaining about not getting orders in a short time to people demanding to have their drinks remade, it was a rough day for the older Carpenter.

She had half a mind to tell the next person who complained about their coffee not being proper that it was just coffee; if they wanted it right, they should buy a Keurig and make it themselves. Although that would be funny, it would also end in Sam getting fired, so she just bit her tongue and continued working.

As if her day couldn’t get any worse, you always had a habit of catching Sam at her worst. “Are you stalking me now?” Sam questioned once she saw you approach the front counter.

“Oh yeah. You know me, I can’t get enough of the Carpenter girls,” you said with a smirk as you quickly checked Sam up and down, frowning when you saw a faded coffee stain on her apron. It wasn’t hard to notice the looks Sam got in public, so you could imagine how customers would treat her. If the universe would allow it, you would put Sam in your back pocket and protect her from the rest of the world; God knows that the woman deserves some peace in her life for once.

“For whatever reason, Tara can’t seem to leave you alone,” Sam mumbled as she pulled out a pen and notepad, “What can I get you?”

“Just a small cappuccino, please,” you replied as Sam wrote down your order and took your payment. She liked writing things down, which helped her remember the important stuff. And maybe, in the distant future, she might want to buy you a coffee sometime.

Once you ordered, you went and sat down at a booth by yourself and took in the place: it had indeed calmed down from earlier; only a couple of people remained from the rush hour. You enjoyed the calmness, as it gave you time to observe people. Not in a weird or stalkerish way, but in a way to think about other people’s lives, how these weren’t just random people who had no life. These were people who had dreams, who had family and friends; you enjoyed watching the way the world works around you.

You watched as a man with stress lines on his forehead eagerly type away on his laptop, mouthing every word he typed. How sweat lined his hairline, he could have had a deadline for work that he pushed off until the last minute. You then turned your attention to the girl at the opposite end of the cafe, a book in hand as she wore black headphones over her ears, entranced into the world of fantasy without a care in the world while sporting a soft smile. The world amazed you in ways like that: two completely different people who somehow ended up at the same place at the same time, with different things going on in their lives. Maybe it was fate that brought these two strangers together, and you smiled when you saw them bump into each other before leaving, both wearing a smile and talking about the book she was reading. Maybe that’s what you wished had happened between you and Sam: an accidental meeting somewhere where a good relationship was possible and not this borderline hostile friendship.

A couple of minutes passed before Sam brought over your drink to you. “How late are you working?” You asked once she handed you your drink. The questioning look she gave you was a funny one, but not that it mattered.

“I’m here till 5. Why?”

“Damn, you got a 9 to 5? It looks like I’ll take the night shift,” you joked, but Sam didn’t laugh, only giving you a questioning glare, “Lucy Dacus? No? You’re boring.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not obsessed with three grown women who refer to themselves as ‘boys,’” Sam remarked. She had no desire to learn anything about Boygenius, especially after listening to her sister talk for an hour about all of the unholy things she would let Julien Baker do to her. If Sam was being honest, half of the stuff Tara said deserved at least a ten-year prison sentence.

“But you know who they are,” you said teasingly as you stood up from the booth, “Don’t worry, Sam. You’ll soon grow to appreciate Boygenius. I’ll have Tara fix that.”

“Mhmmm, I’m sure about that,” she mumbled as she returned to the counter, bidding you farewell with a slight nod, not caring to return your toothy smile or wave.

If Sam drove home after her long shift listening to Julien Baker, that was no one’s business but hers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Sam got home, she only wanted a nice, hot shower and go to bed. She didn’t even bother to eat dinner, as she didn’t have the energy or care to do so. As she opened the door to her apartment, which seemed heavier than usual, she kicked off her shoes with a sigh as she made her way into her bedroom, utterly oblivious to the voices in the living room.

“What’s wrong with her?” You asked Tara once the taller Carpenter had shut her bedroom door. “I don’t know; probably work stuff. Do you have five of spade?” Tara asked, more intrigued with the game she was playing than her sister.

“No, go fish,” you replied while looking at Sam’s door; something was telling you to go check on the girl to make sure she was alright, but you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries.

“Ohhhh my god, you hate me,” the younger Carpenter dramatically stated, dragging out the words as she threw herself backward onto the couch.

“If I hated you, I wouldn’t have done your entire English paper, would I?” You questioned while shooting a glance at the pouting girl, but when your comment earned you a middle finger, you placed your cards down as you stood up from the couch, “I'll be right back.”

Tara scoffed at you as she leaned up on her elbows. “Have you learned nothing from the Meeks family? I hope you don’t come back,” she mouthed off as she started looking at your cards, “you fucking asshole! You did have that card!”

“I never said I didn’t,” you replied with a smirk as you walked toward Sam’s door, ducking out of the way of a flying shoe courtesy of your best friend Tara.

A soft rasping of knuckles pulled Sam away from her almost meltdown. She had felt a constant pressure on her all day, and it started to lift briefly, but it suddenly came back by the end of her shift. Sam was used to the constant pressure and needed to be the best version of herself now that she was providing for her sister, but it all started to get too much for her.

“Sam, you okay?” Great, not only did she have this overwhelming feeling about to take over, but she was also about to have a high speed come apart in front of the person she didn’t want to see her weak.

“I’m good, Y/N. Go back to Tara,” she called out as she backed herself against a wall, slowly sliding down to sit on the floor.

“Are you sure? You didn’t seem too happy when you got home,” you replied, hoping to get somewhere with the older woman. “I’m fine. Please, leave me alone,” Sam pleaded, but the way her voice broke off toward the end of her sentence told you that she didn’t need to be left alone right now.

Several seconds passed, the sound of Sam’s bedroom clock ticking away, slowly counting down the seconds until Sam couldn’t bear the deafening silence. She felt like she had somehow found herself in her version of ‘The Tell-Tale Heart,’ at any moment, she would succumb to the voices that were guilting her. For what guilt, she did not know; guilty of her origins, guilty of neglecting her baby sister for five years, guilty of torturing her body for years on end, putting any substance into her body to help calm her mind? Sam didn’t know what was causing this constant guilt that followed her anxiety and pressure, but she would do anything to make it stop. And she did make it stop.

“Fuck it,” she mumbled as she pushed herself up from the floor and walked to her door, grabbing the handle but making no motion to open the door. If she opened that door, it would be an invitation to open herself up to you; she only opened up to one person in her life, and look what he did to her. This constant fear of having to look over her shoulder, as if the shadows were going to transform into physical beings and take her life, or even worse, take Tara’s life. Sam wears scars, both physical and mental, from him, and she would lay down her own life if it meant protecting her sister. But when she looked at you, with your innocent eyes that beamed when you looked at her, Sam knew you could never hurt anyone. But Sam was never one to make accurate judgments.

The creaking sound of Sam opening up her door pulled you from your thoughts. Thoughts that weren’t any special; who you would have in your ideal Hunger Games lineup. You knew for a fact that the president would be Cersei Lannister and the game maker would be Jigsaw. However, you still have yet to determine who the twenty-four tributes would be: the only tributes you had so far were Santa Barbara Ellie, Pioneer Kim Kardashian, Regina George, and Chanel Oberlin. It's not the best list, but it's a solid start.

“Hey,” you said quietly, eyes darting over Sam’s bloodshot eyes with dark bags underneath. Even at her worst, she always somehow managed to captivate you like she was a siren, slowly bringing you into your inevitable demise. Still, you could never seem to pull yourself away from the beauty that was Sam Carpenter.

Sam scoffed at your weak greeting while ignoring the feeling of her stomach turning at how you looked at her. She knew she looked like a hot mess, and she believed it was your way of silently making fun of her. But the way your lips were slightly parted and your eyes seemed a bit too dilated, refused to leave her own, told her that you weren’t judging or making fun of her. No, you were admiring her, which sent a slight shock of guilt throughout her; Guilt, that was Samantha Carpenter’s best friend.

Sam’s eyes drifted down to the floor, as she couldn’t handle the feeling of your eyes burning into her skull. “Who’s shoe is that?” She asked, motioning down to the floor, where Tara’s shoe landed.

“Well, if you look closely, you can see that it’s a size three for babies,” you remarked teasingly.

“Kill yourself!” Tara shouted from the living room, not caring enough to storm out into the hallway and show you how vicious she can be.

“Charming, isn’t she?” You stated as Sam looked back up and made eye contact with you. Her face told you that she didn’t want to talk, but her eyes were silently begging you to stay. It was a dilemma that you stumbled upon, but you were always someone who loved conflicts. “Is everything alright?”

Sam sighed as she leaned against her doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is that what you wanted? To ask me if things are okay?”

“Um, yes and no?” You trailed off, not wanting to make things more awkward than they were, “Hold on.” You quickly moved from Sam’s door into the living room, and Sam ignored the hushed threats being spoken; her sister was an angel, after all.

“Here ya go,” you said with an embarrassingly large smile once you returned to Sam’s door. In your hand, you held a small brown lunch bag. Sam had to fight off any instincts to punch you in the throat.

“I don’t like gifts,” she said instead of resorting to violence. Truth be told, Sam loved gifts; she just hated receiving them, as it made her feel like she was in someone’s debt.

“Well, good thing it’s not a gift,” you replied, smiling, pushing the gift bag toward Sam, who gave you a questioning look before accepting it. The bag itself was featherlight, almost as if nothing was in there. Sam gave you one last questioning look before opening the bag and looking inside.

In the bag were several containers, all hosting different kinds of cookies and brownies, and to Sam’s surprise, they were all her favorites. There was something much more prominent at the bottom, but she couldn’t tell what it was as the rest of the cookies sat atop. Sam gave you a small smile as she walked over to her chest of drawers and began taking out the items, ignoring how you were now peering into her room as you leaned against the door frame.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Sam genuinely said in a weak, almost fragile voice as she slowly got to the bottom of the bag, “I appreciate this. it has been-” The rest of her words died on the tip of her tongue as she stared into the bag, as silence filled the room. Those silent seconds dragged on into a quiet minute, neither of you saying anything. You knew it might have been too bold or maybe even wrong, but you wanted to let Sam know that you were proud of her.

“Goodnight, Sam,” you quietly whispered, gaining Sam’s attention. Your heart broke once her eyes met yours, tears glossing in her doe eyes as her lip quivered. She gave you a slight nod of recognition before turning her attention back to the bag as a single tear ran down her cheek, grateful that you had already left by the time it broke from her eye.

With a dry chuckle, Sam reached into the bag, pulled out a 10-inch cookie, and sat it down on her chest of drawers. She stared at it for several moments before her lips pulled into a smile as a new feeling shot throughout her heart, one that she hadn’t felt in a long time: hope. But that feeling of hope wasn’t for her; no, it was a hopeful feeling about you.

Sam smiled down at the cookie one last time before she went into the kitchen and grabbed a knife and plate, thankful that Tara had gone off to her room so she could enjoy her treat by herself.

Once she returned to her room, she pulled the lid off the container and cut a small piece out of the cookie. Making sure not to ruin the words that said, “Happy three years of sobriety.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The minutes seemed endless as you stared up at the ceiling of your bedroom. You didn’t know why you were waiting, but you just were. Your mind was telling you to get up, to do something productive, but your heart and soul were seemingly forcing you to stay put, like something important was going to happen anytime, and if you were just a fraction of a second too late, you would miss it.

It was a stupid feeling, but you couldn’t compel yourself to move; it was as if your mind was in a trance, stuck in some faraway land, and you could do nothing to pull yourself back into your body. You were on the verge of losing your mind when you knew exactly what you were waiting for, and when you finally accepted why, it happened.

Your phone dinged on your nightstand, and you immediately smiled; you didn’t have to look at it to know who it was. In a swift motion, you quickly got up from your bed and grabbed your phone as you read the text message. It wasn’t a long one, or even a special one, to be honest, but the smile on your face was almost comical, and your heart soared. The text read, “I don’t know how you found out about the date, nor do I even want to. But thank you, Y/N, I needed that today.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I will never understand the hype for ‘Hamilton,’” Mindy stated with a look of distaste as she flopped down onto the Carpenter’s couch. It wasn’t movie night but more of a girl’s night. Since it was Tara’s idea to have a girl’s night, she got to pick the movie. But it wasn’t for her, no, it was for Sam.

The older Carpenter sister would never admit to liking such things, but she did have a soft spot for musicals. She didn’t know where this love for them came from, but ever since she was young, she had loved the idea of singing.

Before Sam had discovered her mother’s journal, which had ultimately led to the destruction of her family, she used to sing in her church’s choir. It was the first thing her mother didn’t force her into doing, and she loved singing in front of people; it made her feel like nothing in the world could touch her.

Singing was the only thing Christina Carpenter told Sam she was good at and the last thing she ever took away from Sam.

Once Mr. Carpenter left, Christina stopped taking the kids to church, which caused Sam to be pulled from the choir. It still didn’t stop Sam; she saved up enough money to buy a guitar and write songs while practicing the guitar in her room. When Sam started to dabble around in drugs and alcohol, she slowly started to lose herself. She lost who she really was, but she never lost her voice.

Only when it was the day of Sam’s 18th birthday did Christina finally ruin the last good thing Sam liked about herself, “Your real father had the voice of an angel.”

Sam left that night, and she hadn’t sung since.

But now, five years later, Sam still loves everything to do with music. She was glad that Tara had taken one for the team and turned on Hamilton because Mindy would never let Sam hear the end of it.

“‘Hamilton’ is okay, but not Lin-Manuel Miranda’s best work,” you stated as you stood in the kitchen, making a bag of popcorn for yourself. Sam was also in the kitchen with you, which has become a common meeting place. She was making herself a sandwich as she quietly listened to the banter between you and Mindy.

“I don’t believe you. What is his best work?” Tara challenged as she shifted on the couch, throwing an arm over the side as she looked into the kitchen to glare at you.

“His best work is easily ‘In the Heights,’” you declared with too much emphasis on the movie title.

“No!” Tara yelled, “You only say that because the lead actress looks like Sam, and you said she was hot!”

“I did not say that!” You lied as heat rushed up your neck and flooded your cheeks. It wasn’t embarrassing because Tara called you out; you were embarrassed because you were in the kitchen with Sam. It didn’t help that you could hear Sam snickering as you were defending yourself.

“Yes, you did. Do you want me to pull up the screenshots from the long chain of text messages you sent me?” Tara asked, even though it wasn’t a question, as she pulled out her phone. “Example one: ‘Oh my god, Tara. I’m watching this movie, and this woman looks just like Sam.’”

You quickly threw your bag of popcorn down onto the counter as you sprinted into the living room. You simply couldn’t live with the idea that Sam knows just how you yearned for her.

“Example two: ‘This is Sam, just in another universe.’ Example three, in all caps: ‘Oh my god, Tara! I am not joking when I say that-’” You quickly snatched the phone from the younger Carpenter sister before she could say possibly the horniest text message you had ever sent.

“You are no fun,” Tara whined as you deleted the messages from her phone. “You’re evil,” you retorted before handing Tara back her phone, who was quick to grab it. You walked back into the kitchen to grab your popcorn and became embarrassed when you saw Sam.

She was wearing one of her light-colored long-sleeve muscle shirts again with a pair of gray sweatpants. In simple words, she looked amazing. Usually, when Sam wore some variation of the muscle shirt combo, you could act ‘normal.’ But now that Tara had practically outed your attraction to Sam, you just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

Thankfully, she just gave you a small smile as she watched you grab your bag before heading back into the living room, no doubt about to be the subject of constant teasing from Tara and Mindy.

“So,” Mindy started once you sat down on the couch next to her, “Are we going to talk about those thirst messages-” “Start the damn movie, Tara.”

By the time the movie started, Sam had entered the living room, but not without earning a cat call whistle from Mindy, no doubt a jab at you. She opted to sit by herself in the loveseat as she kicked her feet up on the opposite end. She sent you a smile when no one was looking, and you could have sworn both hearts started beating as one.

Throughout the movie, you had to deal with Tara rapping and Mindy ranting about the musical, but overall, it was a fun night. Sam was slowly starting to warm up to the idea of having you around more often, and you slowly felt yourself catching feelings for her.

Of course, there was this natural attraction to Sam, she was simply beautiful, but her protective personality mixed with her stand-off, almost bitchy, personality was merely perfect. But with her bitchiness, she was the sweetest, most caring person you had ever met. Her laugh was so angelic, and the way her eyes crinkled when she did laugh was so heartwarming. Sam Carpenter was perfect in your eyes.

To say that this attraction was one-sided wouldn’t be fair. After you had dropped off her cookie, Sam started to act differently around you. She would smile more, and only at you most of the time. It seemed like she had begun to reserve that confident smile just for you. She started to see you more as an individual with feelings and plans for the future rather than a simple 2-dimensional person who was only in her life to make it hell. Sam had actually started to care for you even though she still tried her best to despise you.

So when the movie finished and Mindy went home, you grabbed your coat to follow suit soon.

“Thank you for coming, Y/N,” Tara said as she hugged you while you were standing next to the front door, “You know I love you, right?”

You quickly reciprocated the hug, pulling the girl into a warm, soft embrace. “I know you do, and I also love you too. Even though you can be a shit sometimes.”

“Yeah, but you love it!” She happily exclaimed while pulling back from the hug to pinch your left cheek, “Drive safe, okay?”

“I will, Ms. Carpenter, I will,” you replied, smiling as you opened the door, and Tara disappeared into her room. You had gone halfway out of the door when someone spoke.

“You’re just going to leave without saying goodbye?” You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was; you could pick that soft voice from anywhere. Granted, she was the only one left in the apartment, but you still have yourself the credit for knowing it was her.

“I didn’t think you would want to say goodbye,” you replied as you entered the apartment and shut the door, “I didn’t want to overstep any boundaries with you.”

That was the thing about you: you were so damn respectful. Sometimes, Sam wanted to slam you against a wall to beat the hell out of you. Other times, she wanted to slam you against a wall with her tongue down your throat. Sam had a weird way of showing her attraction to you.

“You didn’t think you were overstepping boundaries when you brought me that cookie?” Sam questioned with a faint smile on her lips. She would never tell you this, but she loved teasing you, as it was the only way she could see the more embarrassed side of you.

“I figured I was, but I thought the gesture of it would be nice enough,” you replied in a weak voice as you rubbed the back of your neck with your hand and shuffled from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry if it was rude of me to do that without asking first. I just wanted it to be a surprise.”

The older woman laughed a bit as she walked closer to you and opened the door, “At least let me walk you out,” she offered. You gave her a smile with a nod as you followed her out of the apartment, making sure to close the door behind you.

“So, what do you think of musicals?” You asked as you walked down the stairs with her. “Why? You wanna ask me out on a date?” Sam joked with the slightest hint of flirtation in her voice, and you almost felt your knees give out.

“Ha, you wish,” you replied as you matched her tone of voice, which earned you a playful smirk to get sent your way. If you figured your one way to win Sam’s trust was to flirt with her occasionally, you would go out giving it your all.

You two reached the floor level of the apartment building, and you held the door open for Sam as you walked outside. “But seriously, though, what do you think of them?” You asked as Sam followed you to your car.

“I enjoy them well enough. Why?” Sam responded as she eyed you suspiciously.

“Because the ‘Aladdin’ musical is going to be here soon,” you stated before you continued with your proposal, “And I was wondering if you would want to go with me?”

The offer was a genuine one from you; you wanted to spend more quality time with Sam, but you also have been dying to see the musical. It was a win-win situation all around.

“Y/n,” Sam started with a beaming smile that matched her chocolate eyes, “I would love to go with you. When and how much do I owe you?”

You quickly picked up Sam’s hand and held it between yours, “You don’t owe me anything. Consider it payment for letting me terrorize your sister.”

Sam glanced down at your hands before looking back up at you. Her beautiful eyes held so much darkness in them that they couldn’t help but draw you in. When you looked into Sam’s eyes at just the right moments, you didn’t see the gorgeous woman; no, you would see her father. And it made you yearn for her even more. Sam had never experienced actual love, but when you looked into her eyes, it made you wonder why thieves bothered to steal pieces of art; you knew you were in love with her.

In a swift moment, before Sam had time to think about her actions, she leaned in. She had meant to kiss your cheek, but in a sudden and indescribable moment, Sam slightly turned her head to kiss the corner of your lips, millimeters away from your lips.

“Thank you, Y/N,” she whispered with a small smile as she said goodbye. You were too busy hoping she left a lipstick mark to respond.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The seconds seemed to drag on endlessly as you tapped your foot against the floor. Your stomach was wrapped up in knots you could barely remember to breathe; the only thing you could think about was the constant nervousness that was rattling you to your core. You were early, half an hour earlier, to be exact, but you would rather be early and have to wait rather than be late.

You were sitting on the bottom stairs of Sam’s apartment building, impatiently waiting until it would be an acceptable time to go to the Carpenter’s apartment. It was the night of the musical, and you were wearing a simple yet elegant suit as you pulled at the collar of your shirt as if it was slightly choking you.

‘Nervous’ wasn’t the correct word to describe your feelings. Petrified would be a better word for it. You were terrified that you would somehow mess up this night, had somehow overdone it, or that Sam wouldn’t have fun. Self-doubt was your greatest friend, after all.

You picked up the bouquet of roses from beside you and stared at them. “Maybe it's too much,” you thought out loud as you turned them over in your hand. Neither of you had explicitly said it was a date, but the way Sam kissed your cheek was something you would never forget. Even though you wanted to consider an actual kiss, since it was so close to your lips, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Samatha Carpenter is a strong woman who takes what she wants in this world, and if she wanted to kiss your lips, she would have done so.

Your phone vibrated with a text message, pulling you away from self-doubt. It was from Sam, telling you that you can come up whenever you would like.

Like an idiot, you wanted to run up the stairs as fast as you could to get to Sam quicker, but you forced yourself to play it cool, to not look like a loser. So, ever so slowly, you began your journey up the six flights of stairs.

Within a few minutes, you were standing outside Sam’s door. You had arrived quicker than you wanted, but the excitement was too much. Then, your mind slowly started to get the better of you as you stared down at your fancy dress-up shoes. You hoped you weren’t overdressed, but if you were, you could easily change into the clothes you kept in Tara’s room. But then what if you were underdressed? How would you fix that? You wouldn’t have enough time to go home and change into something more congenial, and you certainly weren’t going to make Sam change. What if Sam wasn’t even dressing up at all? What if this was just a friendly outing, and you completely fucked it up? What if-

Before you dive further into the scenarios that could play out, the door opened, and all of the air within your lungs left.

“What the fuck are wearing?” You asked with slight irritation in your voice, bewilderment written all over your face.

“What? You don’t like it?” Tara questioned as she spun around in a circle for you. The younger Carpenter sister was wearing a yellow shirt with a pineapple that had on a thong; underneath the fruit was the word ‘slut.’ She was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, and when she turned around for you, you saw ‘baby girl’ embroidered on the butt.

“Clearly It’s referring to the pineapple, not you,” you said with a smile before it fully registered what was on the girl’s pants, “Hey, turn back around!” Tara did as you demanded, “If I would have known you were wanting to check on my ass, I would have done some squats first,” she teased with a smirk.

When you reread the word ‘baby girl,’ you scoffed at the more petite girl, “Why are you wearing those?”

“Because it's funny! It’s called having a sense of humor!” Tara shot back before an evil smirk appeared, “Why? Do you want me to take them off? I don’t think Sam would like that too much; she gets territorial over you.”

The comment certainly surprised you, and Tara quickly noticed her mistake. “I didn’t mean that,” she tried to explain, but it was too late.

“What do you mean she ‘gets territorial’ over me?” You questioned, completely forgetting about why you were talking to Tara in the first place as the thought of Sam ran rapidly throughout your mind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tara replied with a nervous laugh as her eyes darted around the room. She wasn’t supposed to tell anyone this, and Sam made her swear not to tell anyone. Now, she has broken that promise to the one person who wasn’t supposed to know.

Now, it was a simple mistake that led to Tara finding out about the flirtatious relationship between you and Sam. It was the night Sam kissed your cheek; Tara saw that bright smile on Sam’s lips and how her eyes held so much admiration. She had never seen that look on her sister’s face, and she knew something had happened.

So, like any good sister, she interrogated and terrorized Sam until she finally caved.

Sam only told Tara the bare minimum; you two were going out later in the week to watch a musical together and that you had gotten her a gift a week ago. She didn’t plan on telling Tara that the gift in question was her sobriety treat basket, but when Tara went to grab a water bottle from Sam’s mini fridge, she saw a small box of brownies with your handwriting on a sticky note. “I believe in you :)” was written on it, so Tara asked Sam about it.

Sam told her sister about the gift, but Tara didn’t seem bothered by it. “Oh, yeah. I figured something fruity was going on between you and the biggest homo of the century. But why the fuck did you keep this from me?!” Tara shouted, moving the box around in the air.

“I didn’t think you would want any,” Sam defended with a weak sigh, but she knew it wouldn’t help.

“I would give a strip show to the old people’s home just for a brownie from this place, and you didn’t think I would want any?” She questioned in a slightly more demanding voice before huffing and leaving Sam’s room with the box in hand.

But now, in the current moment, Tara wished she hadn’t opened Sam’s fridge. That annoyingly hopeful smile on your lips drove her insane, not to mention that lovesick look in your eye.

“Stop it, you’re freaking me out,” Tara stated as she made a disgusted face at you. “No. Tell me why you said that,” you pressed on, hoping to get an answer from the younger sister.

“Y/N, what are you hounding her about?” A soft, angelic voice questioned, and your attention immediately shot to Sam. She was wearing a black dress that clutched her curves and somehow made her look even more beautiful if that was even possible. The dress had a plunging neckline, and you had to force your eyes away from her cleavage, earning you a smile of approval from Sam, but an elbow followed by a look of distaste from Tara.

“You look amazing,” you stated breathlessly as your eyes wandered down Sam’s body, admiring the leg slit that showed off her left leg. You prayed for nights when that leg would be wrapped around your head.

“Thank you. You look not so bad either,” Sam replied with a soft smile as she picked up her black clutch bag and walked toward you.

“Have fun on your date,” Tara sneered as she entered her room. Truth be told, she couldn’t have been happier for her sister, but she would rather die than let you know that.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled under your breath as your eyes followed Tara before they shot back to the goddess before you. “Are you ready?” You asked, and she gave a curt nod before walking to the door. When you got to the car, you opened the passenger door for Sam, and she thanked you with a soft smile that made your heart explode and your knees weak.

The car ride to the theater was a peaceful one filled with pleasant conversation as you asked Sam about her day and her about yours. Sometimes, you would catch her looking over her shoulder with those soft doe eyes, and you had to fight off any urges to kiss her soft lips.

“Here we are,” you stated as you pulled into the back parking lot of the theater. As you parked the car, Sam observed people leaving their cars, dressed in all kinds of formal clothing, as they made their way into the theater. It took several seconds for it to click in her mind; this was a date.

Of course, she had assumed it might be considered one whenever you asked her, but as she watched the couples get out of their cars and link hands while they all wore fancy clothing, she knew that this was a date. Sam also knew that if she asked you if this was officially a date, she knew that you would deny it. So when you both stepped out of the car and started walking toward the entrance together, she reached out to interlace your fingers with hers.

It was a simple gesture, but the warmth of her hand in yours was enough to warm your cheeks and set your heart afire. You looked at her, only to find that Sam had already been staring at you.

“What?” You asked with a slight smile and a hint of nervousness in your voice. Sam bumped her shoulder into yours, “Nothing, it's just you look beautiful tonight.”

As if your face couldn’t get any redder, you laughed nervously as you looked down at the ground. The compliment threw you off, but you still accepted it nonetheless. “Thank you. And you look beautiful as well, Sam,” you stated.

“I know; you said that earlier,” she teased as she squeezed your hand, “Come on,” she continued as you two walked into the building.

You held open the door for her as you two entered, and then she patiently waited while you got the tickets.

“My lady,” you said as you returned to Sam, sticking out your elbow. “You are such a dork,” she replied, smiling as she locked her elbow around yours and followed your lead. Sam kept quiet as you led her past row after row, but her surprise never stopped until you led her to the third row up front. “Come on,” you stated as you led her down the row toward the middle, “these are our seats.”

“Y/N. How much did these cost?’ Sam questioned as she hesitatingly sat down next to you. “Don’t worry about the price. Money doesn’t mean anything when it comes to memories,” you eagerly replied, which was the truth. You didn’t care about the ticket price; the only thing you cared about was making Sam happy. Sam was someone who found happiness hard to come by, so you devoted your time to try and make her life better, even if that meant putting a massive dent in your credit score.

“I will stab you in the neck with a knife if you don’t tell me how much you spent on these seats,” Sam demanded with a soulless look in her eyes. It was meant to be threatening, maybe it was, but the only thing you could feel toward those dark eyes was a sense of attraction.

“Shhh, it's getting ready to start,” you silenced her, and soon enough, the lights began to dim as the crowd quickly stopped their chatter and turned their focus to the stage. Sam scoffed at you and turned her attention away from you. She wanted to be angry with you for not telling her how much you spent, but she knew that doing that would only ruin this night, which was something she knew you had been looking forward to for longer than you had been leading on.

So, when the curtains opened, she quickly glanced at you. She noticed how your eyes seemed entirely dedicated to the actors on stage and how your lips were curved up in the slightest of a smile. Sam thought you looked the most beautiful woman in the entire world.

Sam moved her hand from her lap to place it in your lap. She turned her hand so that her palm was facing up, and you didn’t have to ask what she wanted; you interlaced your fingers with hers and pulled them further into your lap.

If Sam noticed the way your hands started to sweat, she didn’t say anything. She was too busy focusing on how your thumb was featherlight stroking her hand to concentrate on anything. No one had ever touched her with such softness; she wanted to cry.

When the play finished, and you took her back to her apartment, she couldn’t help but give you a goodnight kiss as a thank you.

Maybe one day you could bask in the sweet taste of her lips on yours. But for now, you would live with her lipstick stain on your cheek, and you would wear it with honor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things had changed between the two of you. They were highly subtle at first: Sam’s eyes looking for you in a crowded room, her fingertips lingering on your hand whenever she handed you your coffee, and she even gave you another rare kiss on the cheek when you brought a very drunk Tara home late one night. Then things started to pick up; she would text you and ask you to pick something up for her and Tara, and when you would drop them off, Sam would ask you to stay for a while. She would always say Tara asked you to stay, but you knew better, even though you never questioned her.

It was one of those nights at the Carpenter’s apartment, movie night with just the three of you. Of course, typical movie nights with the core four plus Anika and you were on Fridays, but the sisters liked having you over just by yourself, as you weren’t nearly as much trouble as the twins. Tara wanted to refer to you as a plant; check in occasionally to make sure you weren’t dead and give you some stuff to keep you from dying.

“Tara, I am not watching ‘The Babadook,’” you stated as you sat on the couch alone. Tara was doing her dad's stance while flipping through movies to watch while Sam was in the kitchen making popcorn.

“Who?” She asked, not even caring to look back at you. “What-” you started to say before the shorter Carpenter cut you off, “Asked?”

“Why do I even hang out with you? All you do is insult me,” you joked as Tara moved to sit beside you. Well, on you. She threw an arm around your shoulder as she got comfortable on your lap. “Because you love me, obviously,” she remarked, still looking for the perfect movie.

Sam knew it was spiritual love, but she couldn’t help the feeling of jealousy grow throughout her chest. Especially over her sister! With a slight shake, Sam tried to fight off that feeling as she grabbed the popcorn bags, along with some bowls, and made her way into the living room.

“Just two bags?” Tara questioned once Sam entered the living room. “Yeah, I figured you and Y/n would share. Why; is there a problem?” The older sister questioned with a raised eyebrow as she set the bowls on the coffee table.

“No, it's fine. But I am getting an entire bag for myself,” Tara stated as she left your lap to grab a bag from Sam before moving to the opposite end of the couch. “Looks like you two will have to share,” she added with a sly smile.

You shared a look with Sam, who had slight irritation on her face. She handed you the bag as she spoke, “I’ll go make more.” When Sam moved to head into the kitchen, you quickly grabbed her wrist, stopping her from getting further.

“No, I’m alright with sharing. Only if you are, though,” you said quietly, ignoring the snickering coming from the end of the couch. Sam gave you a small smile as she nodded, sitting beside you on the sofa.

A small laugh left your lips as you looked at Sam’s outfit. “What?” She questioned.

“We are matching,” you responded with a smile as you looked up at Sam, who was already looking at you before she looked at your outfit. It was true; both of you were accidentally wearing practically the same outfit: blue plaid pajama pants with solid black shirts.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” Sam said with a smile as her eyes met yours. It was a small moment between the two of you, but it was quickly ruined when the sound of gagging pulled you two from it.

“Please, no homosexual activities in front of my popcorn. I don’t want it forced down my throat,” Tara complained as if she wasn’t someone who also suffered from those homosexual tendencies as well.

Sam cleared her throat as she grabbed one of the bowls and opened the bag of popcorn, pulling all of it into the bowl. “What movie did you pick?” You asked as you kicked your feet onto the coffee table, earning yourself a slight glare from Sam. She wouldn’t classify herself as a neat freak, but she hated it when people put their feet on furniture not used for sitting.

“‘It puts the lotion on its skin, or it gets the hose again,’” Tara quoted while throwing a piece of popcorn into the air and catching it with her mouth.

“I love that movie so much,” you commented while grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch, covering up your legs as you got comfortable.

“What movie?” Sam questioned as Tara hit play. “‘The Silence of the Lambs.’ It's one of my favorite movies,” you replied with a smile, leaning over to give Tara a quick fist bump for the choice.

“Is this the one with Jodie Foster?”

“Yep,” you and Tara replied simultaneously, earning a small groan from Sam, but she didn’t protest.

Once the movie began, Sam pulled at your blanket and placed some over her lap. You thought nothing of it until you felt Sam’s thigh brush against yours. You guessed it was an accident, but she didn’t move her leg; you relaxed your body and pushed your thigh against hers. You felt your chest flutter at the slight smile on Sam’s face at the contact.

As the movie progressed, the distance between you and Sam slowly became nonexistent. Your shoulders were now touching each other as you shared one blanket. In a moment of braveness, with a little bit of stupidity, you moved your hand underneath the blanket, which was where Sam had been keeping her own. Slowly, your hand inched toward Sam’s, hoping to reach the desired location without Sam pulling her hand away.

When your hand gently grazed Sam’s, the Latina made no effort to pull away, so you took it as a sign to continue. You linked your pinkie with hers and waited. I waited for her to finally realize what you were doing and pull away or glare at you and then ridicule you for such actions. So when Sam did pull her pinkie out of the lock with yours, you tried not to show your disappointment on your face.

But before you could get too comfortable with your sadness, Sam interlaced her fingers with yours, giving your hand a gentle yet firm squeeze. It was a small gesture. Some people might even call it friendly, but how your heartbeat quickened at the contact was embarrassing. You only hoped that your fast heart rate and nervousness would cause your palms to sweat. If they did sweat, though, Sam didn’t say anything about it, which you were grateful for.

As the end credits rolled, you let go of Sam’s hand, much to the older woman’s disappointment. You helped Sam clean up the mess made during the movie while you two let Tara sleep peacefully on the couch.

“I can clean those,” you said while walking into the kitchen. Sam was at the sink washing the bowl that you two had used.

“No, it’s okay. I got it,” she replied as she looked over her shoulder at you. “Thank you for staying tonight. I know Tara can be a little shit sometimes.”

You laughed at Sam’s words as you walked over to her, leaning against the counter. “It’s no problem; I love hanging out with you guys,” you genuinely replied, smiling, “Thank you for letting me stay over. I know we haven’t always had the best past.”

At the mention of the one-sided distaste that was formerly between you two, Sam stopped cleaning the bowl. A frown appeared on her lips as she looked down, refusing to meet your piercing gaze.

She took a deep breath before she spoke, “I’ve been an asshole to you, I know. I thought you were only getting close to us so you could tell Gale, but I know better than that now. I’ve been so…closed off to people that my judgment blinded me. I’m sorry, is what I’m trying to say.”

To say that Sam’s apology took you aback would be an understatement. You had just assumed that Sam would never own up to how she treated you in the past, opting just to pretend nothing ever happened. But you could tell that she had been working on this apology for a long time, so you appreciated it while you could.

“Thank you, Sam, for apologizing. I won't try to play it down, but it does mean a lot to me,” you said with a soft smile as you looked at the vulnerable woman before you, “but I have to ask. What changed?”

A sigh left Sam’s lips as she turned on the sink, washing out all the soap. She then began drying it off to think about her response. It wasn’t a difficult thing to explain. Well, the logical reasoning for her change of mind about you. But what she was trying to avoid was telling you that she also had a change of heart. Sam had started to enjoy your presence and hated being without you; she yearned for your soft, gentle touches that followed your caring words. She wanted to tell you that she still hates you but cares deeply for you.

Sam dried her hands off as she leaned against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. “I honestly don’t know entirely,” she began, “I know my opinion started to change after you brought me that cookie. But I feel like things changed before that, you know?”

“No, I don’t,” you said with a soft laugh, “I think I’ve just gotten so used to you being a dickhead to me that I kind of don’t associate anything else with the way you treat me.”

Sam had to pretend your words didn’t split her heart down the middle; she had to pretend your words didn’t pierce her heart like an ice-cold dagger. She knew she had no business to be hurt by your honesty, but still, she hated being reminded of how things were.

“I am sorry about that. You were there to protect Tara when I wasn’t, and for that, you will always have my gratitude,” Sam stated as she took several moments to decide on what to say next, “Tara told me that while I was gone for those five years, that you took care of her. Is that true?”

“Yeah,” was all you said in a quiet voice, almost as if you were preparing yourself for when Sam started to ask more questions but silently prayed she wouldn’t.

“How bad was it?” The older Carpenter asked with a voice filled with regret. You didn’t have to ask to clarify what she was asking about; you could tell by how her left fist started to clench as she brought her right arm to rub over the median cubital vein in her left arm. She wasn’t asking about how bad the attack was. No, she was asking about how bad Tara’s home life was when she was too high to do anything about it.

“I made sure she wasn’t left home alone,” you admitted. It was the half-truth, and you hoped Sam would accept it, but you knew better. “What was it like when Christina was there?” Sam pressed on.

“Things were okay; nothing was too bad,” you replied, trying your best to sugarcoat the truth.

An awkward, dry chuckle came from Sam as she shook her head, “Don’t lie to me; tell me the truth.”

You debated whether you should spare Sam the details or try to lie to her about how ugly it got sometimes. But fuck it, Sam had been making your life hell for almost a year now, so it's time she found out what you dealt with for five years.

“Christina’s a drunk; everyone knows that. But it got ugly once you left, especially once you left. It was like, maybe three weeks since you had left, and Christina had drank herself into a coma. The only problem was that it was in some European country, and no one back home knew about it. Christina was only supposed to be gone for the weekend and return home by late Sunday. Only, that weekend turned into a week, which then turned into a month.”

You gave Sam several moments to digest everything you told her, waiting for her to object. But when all she did was nod, you continued. “Tara didn’t tell anyone about her mom not coming back, and she only just told me why she didn’t tell anyone about it: she didn’t want people to view her as some monster because her entire family had left her.”

A soft sob came from Sam, and that was when you noticed she had been silently crying. When you moved to comfort her, Sam smacked your hand away from her body. “Keep talking,” she demanded. And you followed your orders.

“I didn’t notice anything different until I heard her stomach growl during lunch. She had been rationing her lunch for weeks, trying to make every piece last as long as possible. School food isn’t the best, but you would have thought Gordon Ramsey had made it how she cherished every bite. By the end of the school day, I finally got Tara to tell me what had happened, and I forced her to stay at my house. I told my mom that she would stay with us for a while, and she didn’t bat an eye; it was like she already knew what had happened but didn’t want to find out. That night, my mom had cooked lasagna; Tara had three full plates of it.”

“She hates lasagna,” Sam said in a choked-up voice. “I know,” you responded with a small laugh, “After that night, I made sure Tara always had something to eat and that she was never alone. But the one time I wasn’t there,” you had trailed off, not being able to finish your sentence without a tear forming in your eye.

Sam knew what you were talking about: the first Ghostface attack. Instead of pushing you away, she reached her arms and grabbed you, pulling you into a hug. It was the first hug you two had ever shared, but it was still the best. The grief you two shared could be felt by each other in that warm embrace, and you both found comfort in each other’s arms, which was something no one had ever made Sam feel.

You two hold on to one another as you both quietly cry over the past, hoping to be free of it with every tear that falls down your face. It was a bonding moment, but it was something you both needed; you two needed to be vulnerable together and for the other one to pick the other up.

After a few minutes, Sam pulled back from. She wiped the remaining tears off your face as she tucked your hair behind your ear and did something unexpected but not unwelcome. Sam leaned forward and placed a small, lingering kiss on your forehead as she quietly muttered, “Thank you.”

Once Sam pulled back, she gently squeezed your shoulders as she left the kitchen. You followed after her, only stopping to watch as Sam picked up a still-sleeping Tara from the couch and returned the gremlin to her bed. While Sam dealt with Tara, you grabbed the blanket you shared with Sam and some pillows to make your ‘bed’ for the night. The couch was comfortable, and you preferred it over sleeping with Tara. As small as she was, she always took up the entire bed.

After you deemed your sleeping quarters right, you went into the bathroom to brush your teeth. Props to being over so much; you had your toothbrush. It was a small gesture from Tara, but it gave you unlimited bragging rights. As you brushed your teeth, you could hear Sam talking to someone. With your curiosity getting the better of you, you peeked into the hallway to see the woman talking to someone on the phone.

“Thank you for inviting me. I had fun going out with you, but I don’t want this to go any further than friendship,” she quietly said into the phone as she paced back and forth. Deciding to give her some space, you stepped back into the bathroom and closed the door before spitting out the toothpaste and then rinsing your mouth with water. You wiped your mouth off with a towel before opening the door and leaving, finding Sam still talking on the phone with a mysterious love interest.

As she continued to talk to the person, you got situated on the couch, but before you could get too comfortable, Sam started to snap her fingers at you.

“What?” You hissed out, staring at the woman growing slightly more agitated as her phone call continued. You noted that Sam had already changed into her pajamas for the night: a loose band t-shirt with a pair of shorts.

“Have a good night; I'll talk to you later,” she abruptly said as she ended the phone call, “Are you seriously sleeping on the couch?”

“Um, yeah? Where else would I sleep? And besides, the couch is comfortable,” you replied as you gave Sam a questioning look. If she was insinuating that you sleep with her in her bed, well, that warranted some questions. But not that you would reject her offer.

“Are you alright with that? I know you usually sleep with Tara, but she might try to fight you if you go in there while she’s already asleep,” Sam said, trying to hide that she wanted to ask you to sleep with her. She found comfort in holding your hand earlier, and she surprisingly enjoyed the depressing conversation you two shared in the kitchen. Sam hated to admit it, but she found herself seeking you out for comfort. Not only the comfort but the fact that you warmed her heart as well; she had started to fall for you most unexpectedly.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. And besides, she usually ends up taking up the whole bed anyway. I’ll have more space out here than I will with her,” you responded, and Sam couldn’t help but nod at your words. “Yeah, she’s small, but don’t doubt how much space she can take up,” she said in agreement, “But would you like my bed?”

Now, that offer caught you off guard. You hadn’t even considered that Sam might provide you with her entire bed so she could sleep on the couch. As considerate as it might be, you were either sleeping on the sofa or in Sam’s bed with her, no in-betweens.

“No, I can’t take that from you and leave you on the couch. I’m honestly fine on it; don’t even worry about it,” you stated honestly, but Sam only shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t be a good host if I let you sleep out here.”

Neither of you wanted to be the one to offer it up, but you refused even to suggest the idea of sharing a bed. Nope, that was going to have to be something that Sam does, and you would happily wallow around in her swollen pride.

Just as you predicted, Sam swallowed her pride and offered the best solution if it did come with a backhanded offer. “Since you enjoy being difficult and making me feel like a horrible person, would you want to share my bed with me? Just this once?”

When she said the sentence, it didn’t sound as rude as the first one; it sounded a lot nicer, like she was hopeful that it wouldn’t be just this once, that this night would turn into another night, and maybe even the rest of the nights you could share.

“Only if that’s alright with you,” you said in a calm, normal tone as you tried to convince Sam that you weren’t mentally bouncing off the walls. “Sounds good to me. Come on,” she replied as she pulled you up from the couch and led you to her room. Sam dared not let go of your arm the entire walk there.

Once you entered her room, she only dropped your hand as she walked over to her side of the bed. She pulled back the covers as she got in bed, stopping to stare at you. You stood uncomfortably in the middle of the doorway as you looked around Sam’s room.

You felt like you saw a new side of Sam as you admired her room; the walls had old types of vinyl, and a single guitar was hanging from the wall. Along with the guitar, there were some framed movie posters, one being ‘Kill Bill’ that was signed. There was a singular bookshelf that didn’t have a single open spot. A record player was also sitting atop her desk in the corner of her room. How you missed all of these small details when you dropped off the cookies, you had no idea.

“What are you doing?” Sam questioned, pulling you out of your mind. “Sorry; I was just looking at your stuff,” you admitted with embarrassment as you walked over to the bed. You halted before getting in as if you were waiting for Sam to change her mind and kick you out suddenly.

“Is something wrong?” Sam asks as she leans up in bed, her doe eyes shimmering under the dimly lit light. “No, no. It’s just…,” you faltered on an excuse. You didn’t want to admit that you were nervous about sharing a bed with that goddess of a woman, but you also didn’t want her to think you were disgusted by the thought of sharing a bed with her. “Do you want me to sleep in my street clothes? I have New York on me, and I doubt you want that in your bed.”

With a sigh, Sam exits her warm, comfortable bed to grab you a pair of fresh clothes. She didn’t even bother to ask if you happened to have a spare set here-which you did; she started rifling through her closet.

“Here,” she stated as she handed you a faded shirt before walking to her chest of drawers. Sam opened her top drawer and grabbed a pair of shorts for you.

“Thank you,” you said softly while grabbing the shorts from her, “I’ll change in your bathroom real quick.”

Sam hummed in response as she quickly got back into bed, missing the warmth of it.

After you had changed out of your dirty clothes, you decided to put them in Sam’s hamper—a subtle move at her being able to keep your clothes without offering them.

As you left the bathroom, you were still slightly pulling down your shirt, only showing off the lower portion of your stomach. The skin was only visible briefly, but it caught Sam’s full attention.

The scars that littered your abdomen were scattered, but she could recognize a stab wound from anywhere. The story about Jill Roberts haunted you night and day, so you never told Sam about that nightmare. The only one who had some faint idea about it was Mindy, as she had seen you naked on a few occasions. She never asked about the scars; she felt that asking would have been more intimate and personal than the sex was.

But things were different with Sam; you wanted that intimacy with her. And she liked that intimacy with you. Sam wanted to be able to share every nasty, dark part of her past with you, just as much as she wanted you to tell her your dark past. It was opening up with your pasts that allowed you two to share a possible bright future.

So, she asked you about it. “What happened?”

It was a stupid question, but Sam wanted to know your side. Of course, she was aware of the fact you were involved with the 2011 Ghostface killings, but she wanted to know why you were targeted.

You softly sighed as you climbed into bed next to Sam, who was fully sitting up with her legs crossed as she stared at you, silently encouraging you to trust her. If there was going to be anyone to judge you for your past, it certainly wasn’t going to be Samantha Carpenter.

“Well, I was nine when it happened,” you began, “and I suppose it all boils down to being at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

You waited several seconds, debating whether you wanted to share this information. It wasn’t a secret; it was out there for the entire world to read about, courtesy of Gale Weathers, an author who turned a tragic story into a multi-million dollar yearly profit.

“Jill was my babysitter. It was after the first few attacks, and she was still babysitting me. She was always nice to me, well, about as nice as she could be. I had been messing around in her room, and I found this camera, so of course, I started to watch what was on it. On it were videos of all of the recent attacks, ruthless shit. Instead of telling her I found it, I hid it in my backpack, and I had planned to bring it to Judy Hicks. Well, Jill finds out that it’s missing and goes ape shit.”

You shifted around in bed as you got more comfortable, opting to fully lay down on your back as Sam propped herself up onto her elbow to engage herself in your traumatizing story fully.

“Anyways, she starts ripping the house apart, turning it inside out and upside down. Of course, she eventually finds it in my backpack, and I don’t even defend myself. I just stood there like a deer caught in headlights. The scariest part about it was that she didn’t even hesitate. One moment, she had my backpack in hand, then the next, she had a knife,” you finished, not wanting to recall the gruesome experience.

Sam was silent momentarily as she thought over what to say to you. She wanted to comfort you, but she didn’t know how. In a way, she felt like your attack had been her fault. Logically, it couldn’t have been, but she felt guilty about it, guilty about her father.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, especially at such a young age,” Sam stated. She truly did feel heartbroken for you, but she couldn’t seem to express her sorrow adequately. The only emotion she was good at convening was her anger, a trait she inherited from both her mother and father.

“It is what it is,” you replied with a soft sigh, “Who were you talking to earlier?”

The older Carpenter sister let out a small groan as she fell onto her back, running her hands down her face to add dramatic effect. “It was Danny,” she replied as she interlaced her fingers and placed them on her stomach.

“Oh yeah?” You asked with a teasing tone. Now it was your turn to prop up onto your elbow. “What did he want?”

“He just wanted to go on another date,” Sam responded, to which you huffed. This slight noise got her attention; she turned her head to the side to look at you as if she were studying your facial expressions to try and guess what you were thinking. “Why do you ask?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Just curious. You seemed annoyed, and you hung up pretty quickly. Just thought you were having a sneaky link I didn’t know about.”

“Oh, please. If I wanted a sneaky link, I certainly wouldn’t let my family know about it,” she joked softly, and your heart erupted. Sam’s smile was rare, even more rare around you. It was as if the angles had parted the sky, and you could catch a glimpse into heaven. It was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen, but the most teasing one.

“Okay, but be honest: what happened?” You pressed on while clarifying that you respected Sam’s boundaries if she didn’t want to tell you.

“We went on a date. Danny kissed me because he felt something; I didn’t feel anything. He called to ask me on another date; I said no. Simple as that,” she replied with a monotone voice, but you knew there was more to the story.

“Sam,” you said with a soft voice.

“Mhm?”

“I will throw myself out of your window if you don’t tell me the truth.”

“Oh my god, what the hell is wrong with you?” Sam questioned with a voice full of laughter as she smiled from ear to ear.

“Tell me, or I’ll paint the sidewalk red,” you joked with a smile that matched hers.

“I told him no because I don’t want to be with him,” she replied honestly as she stared at you with those dark, doe eyes. You swore you could get lost in that void. “Now, will you leave me alone so I can sleep?”

You scoffed at her but entirely laid down nonetheless. “I guess so,” you grumbled as you rolled onto your side, facing away from Sam.

Sam only laughed at your shitty attempt to pout as she got out of bed to turn off the overhead light. Once she was back in bed, she rolled onto her side to face your back.

Slowly and very hesitantly, she wiggled closer to you, wrapping a loving arm around your waist. Sam didn’t have to wait long before she felt your hand atop hers, pulling her closer to you. Soon enough, her entire front was pressed against your back, and you couldn’t have been happy. Your heart seemed to only beat for Sam, as your entire body started to feel like it was catching on fire.

“You know,” Sam whispered into the dark room, “I listened to Julien Baker the other day.”

“That’s not the one I was talking about,” you responded, not missing a beat.

She scoffed at your weak response, “There’s too many.”

“Girl, there are only three!”

“Whatever,” she mumbled while she pulled you closer into her body as if she couldn’t get enough of you. Sam placed a chaste kiss on your head before slowly drifting off to sleep, with you in her arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The picture frames hung on the walls rattled as the loud, booming sound of music filled the air. Against your will, the twins plus Tara dragged you to a frat party. Drunken college students mixed with obnoxious music was not your cup of tea, but you did enjoy the theme: early 2000s club. From Lady Gaga to Timbaland, even to Beyoncé, it was the first time a party had gotten the music right! There’s nothing wrong with today’s music; they don’t make them like they used to.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” Tara offered. Even though she forced you to go out tonight, she still wanted you to have fun without pressuring you to do too much. She could be a little asshole sometimes, but she had her soft moments.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” you replied softly. The two of you were sitting together on the only couch that didn't have people either passed out or making out, even though Tara suggested doing either with you.

“Tara, I think you are wonderful and completely captivating, but I do not want your tongue down my throat,” you joked with a soft laugh. The younger Carpenter whined in response as she kicked her feet up into your lap.

“Oh yeah, I forgot. It’s the other Carpenter’s tongue you want,” she teased with a wink as she made a V with her middle and pointer finger, bringing it to her lips while sticking out her tongue.

“What is wrong with you?” You questioned while politely shoving the more petite girl, forcing her to stop. “Oh yeah, how come I found you two wrapped up in each other’s arms then? Mmm?” She pressed.

It was a simple question but an entirely challenging one as well. You needed a place to sleep, so Sam offered to share her bed with you, as it was better than the couch. That part you could explain, but you couldn’t explain why or how you woke to Sam’s face pressed against your chest. It was the first time you had ever felt so loved, so seen. It wasn’t just you who had found so much comfort that night. Sam loved falling asleep to your heartbeat; the drumming sound soon became a lullaby.

“She tried to kill me and forced me to share her bed for warmth,” you stated, but Tara didn’t believe you for a second. “You know, if you would have told me that four months ago, I would have believed you. But now that you have stolen my sister from me and somehow tricked her into falling for you, I don’t believe you.”

Your ears perked up at the mention of Sam falling for you, and your cheeks started to get warm at the thought of Sam recouping your feelings. “She likes me?” You asked with a love-sick smile on your lips.

Tara rolled her eyes at your question and pushed herself off your lap. “I don’t know how you did it, but Sam cares about you. I think she started to go soft on you when you took her to that musical,” she stated as she stuck out her right arm to you. You grabbed onto her hand and allowed the more petite girl to pull you off of the couch, then you followed her into the kitchen.

“I didn’t even know that Sam likes musicals,” you commented as you grabbed a Seagram from the bucket full of ice on the kitchen island. “She loves them more than me. I fully believe Sam would sell me for some ‘Six’ tickets,” Tara remarked as she grabbed a beer.

You laughed at the younger Carpenter comment. Sadly, she wasn’t being dramatic; you now knew the extent of Sam’s love for musicals, and you hated that you agreed with Tara.

“Yeah, I hate that you believe you on that one,” you replied as you followed Tara into the backyard. The two of you sat down together on a swing, drinking in silence as you two silently judged the drunks amongst you.

All in all, it was a nice night to socialize; exams were finished up for the week, and you two needed a break from all of it. It was nice to get out occasionally with friends, even though you preferred drinking the safety net of your own home. It wasn’t because you didn’t trust people. It was that you hated being around drunk people, and you were a homebody. But just when you started relaxing at the party, the universe had to ruin it for you.

It wasn’t anything terrible at first; Tara had left to grab some more beers for the two of you. She was back within a minute, and as she walked toward you, a man grabbed her arm and pulled her into him.

You couldn’t hear what was being said, but you could tell from the anger in Tara’s eyes that it wasn’t anything good. Sometimes, you wondered if the Loomis genes were airborne, due to how quickly Tara got angry and violent.

Before you had any time to react, Tara had taken the beer bottle in her right hand and smashed it against the man’s head, causing him to fall to the ground. You quickly sprang up from your comfortable seat as you rushed over to Tara, now held back by two of your friends from college. You checked over her hands to ensure no glass had gotten in them, and when you deemed her safe, you took her from friends, who then went to check on the man, who was still on the ground.

“Come on,” you mumbled as you dragged Tara from the backyard and into the front yard.

When you two entered the front yard, she shook herself from your grasp and dramatically flung herself onto the ground, sighing in defeat. The air was full of tension as you stared down at the more petite girl, who held her head in shame.

“What happened?” You questioned as you sat down next to her. With a sigh, she wrapped her arm around yours and rested her head on your shoulder. “He’s from my theoretical film studies class. The other day, we had argued about the Harry Potter movies. And-do not fucking laugh at that!” She exclaimed as she playfully smacked your arm once you started to laugh at her.

“I’m sorry, but you two argued over Harry Potter?” You asked with laughter in your voice, “That’s insane!”

“Shut up, no, it's not. Anyways, before I was so rudely interrupted,” she replied with attitude, “the argument was over who was the real bad guy: Dumbledore or Snape. We disagreed, but we didn’t have enough time to discuss it before class ended. Tonight, he stopped me to tell me I was wrong and that he was right, and I kinda got a little angry.”

“‘A little angry?’ You smashed a bottle against his head,” you exclaimed with a look of bewilderment.

“I’m little; my anger fills up my entire body, and sometimes it gets the best of me,” she shrugged as she stood up and held out a hand, “Come on, let's go home.”

You accepted her hand as you followed her home. You didn’t need to ask what she meant by home; you both knew it was the Carpenter’s apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You did what?!” Sam shouted as she stared down you and Tara. The two of you were sitting down on the couch together, sharing shame as you listened to Sam ridicule you. “I let you go out for one night and I promised not to text you the entire time, and you do this? And you,” she then turned her attention toward you, “I can’t believe you let this happen.”

“Sam, I'm so sorry. It happened so quick and I-” you tried to defend but she interrupted you. “You had one job, Y/n. One!”

Sam paced back and forth as she rubbed her temples. This was supposed to be a night of relaxing; she had already had two glasses of wine and ate a little bit too much pasta that was acceptable. Sam even had plans to ask you to stay the night again, that’s why she had the wine; she needed that liquid courage to taste your lips for the first time.

But now, as she went over the possible outcomes of her sister assaulting one of her classmates, all she wanted to do was go to sleep. With a sigh, she dropped her hands and stopped pacing. “Alright,” Sam said in a defeated voice, “I will let it slide, but just this once. Go take your shower, but then you are going to bed.”

Tara was out of the room as soon as Sam said it was okay, not wanting to waste a second as she feared that her sister might change her mind. Tara also wanted to give her sister some alone time with you; she noticed the wine glass on the living room table and she was praying that tonight would be the night the two of you stopped pussyfooting around.

“Sam?” Your voice pulled her out of her thoughts and her eyes automatically snapped to you. “What’s up?” She asked.

You stood up from the couch as you approached her. “I’m sorry about tonight. If I would have known that was going to happen, I would have stopped her,” you apologized but Sam was already shaking her head.

“No, it's okay,” she replied as she grabbed her wine glass and finished it off as she walked into the kitchen, with you a few paces behind her.

“Are you sure?” You quietly asked as you awkwardly looked around. “Yeah. Why do you ask?” She questioned as she placed her glass on the counter and looked at you. You could feel her eyes burning into your skin, and you couldn’t help the words that soon poured out of your mouth.

“I don’t know, I’m just worried that you are actually really upset with me but you don’t want to tell me that because you don’t want to upset me. I’m worried that things are different between us now, and I don’t know why I feel that. I’m just terrified I fucked up somehow, and I really really like you, Sam. I’ve worked so hard to gain your trust and now I’m scared I lost it. So, I am so sorry-” she cut off your rambling by cupping your cheeks and pressing her lips against yours.

Your heart automatically started beating quicker as your hands found home on her hips, pulling her closer into you. When you kissed her back, you could have sworn she let out the slightest moan, and it drove your mind insane.

You couldn’t recall her walking toward you, but the only thing that was running through your mind was how soft her lips were; how sweet they tasted mixed with the wine.

The wine.

You quickly pulled away from Sam’s lips. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to do anything while you’ve been drinking,” you apologized, but your eyes darted between Sam’s own eyes and her lips.

With a soft laugh, Sam leaned forward and kissed your cheek, something she had found out she loved doing. “It’s okay, Y/N. I really really like you too, and I hope that we could possibly go on another date again soon?” Sam asked with a look of hopefulness, and you had to fight the urge to lean back in.

“You’re also considering the musical a date too?” You questioned with red cheeks. Sam nodded her head with a smile that matched hers, and oh how your heart beat for the woman in front of you. You swore you were love drunk off those lips that you’ve only tasted once, but now that you’ve tasted them, you’re sure that nothing was as sweet.

“Y/N, would you like to stay the night?” Sam asked, “With me?”

“Are you trying to get in my pants?” You teased as you playfully pushed her shoulders, to which she grabbed your hand and pulled you into her.

Sam reached up with her right hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, then ran her fingers down the side of your jaw as she admired your features. “I’ve been an asshole to you, I know that,” she admitted as her thumb stroked your jawline, “But I hope over time I can make it up to you fully. I’ve blamed you for things that weren’t your fault and I’m sorry I was that dense. I know you are just following Gale’s writing as a way to forge your own career, and I shouldn’t have blamed you for the book she wrote.”

Sam took a deep breath as she tried to collect her thoughts. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry for how much of a dick I’ve been to you, and I would like to make it up to you,” her voice got quieter as her eyes refused to meet yours, “By hopefully being your girlfriend?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to wrap your mind around what Sam just asked. When her eyes did meet yours, they were holding so much love and hope that you felt your heart explode. Tears welded in your eyes as you cupped her cheeks and pulled her into a loving kiss, forgetting about the alcohol in her system.

“I would love to be your girlfriend,” you mumbled against her lips as you quickly pecked them, “But how much have you had to drink tonight?”

The older Carpenter sister laughed at your comment as she grabbed your hand, pulling you toward her room. “I’m fine, Y/N. I’m sure you and the demon child have had more than me. Besides, I only needed a few drinks to actually make a move on you,” Sam admitted as she opened her bedroom door and dropped your hand, to your disappointment, “But how much have you had?”

You shrugged your shoulders as you walked over to the vinyl set in Sam’s room and began flipping through them. “I’m fine; a little buzzed but nothing too bad,” you replied.

“Mhm, yeah, you’re not as awkward as you usually are. I don’t like it,” Sam stated as she handed you a clean pair of clothes to change into you. You noticed they were her clothes, and an embarrassing large smile over took your lips as you finally realized that Sam Carpenter was your girlfriend.

You leaned to kiss her, but Sam placed her hands on your shoulders, preventing you from doing so. You gave her a little pout, so to make you feel just a little bit better, she sighed and gave your cheek a kiss. “Go change and get ready for bed,” she quietly commanded you and you did as told.

The clothes fit you perfectly, as if Sam had bought them just for you. There was a toothbrush laying on the sink, still in its packaging, and you knew that Sam had gone out shopping for you tonight.

Walking into the bedroom, you climbed into bed with the older Carpenter, who was sitting upright with her back against the headboard of her bed, reading a book. “Did you buy me a toothbrush today?” You asked as you laid down and scooted closer to Sam, wrapping your arm around her waist.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied as placed her bookmark in the book and set it down on the nightstand, “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because there was a toothbrush that hadn’t been opened yet, and these clothes fit a little bit too nice,” you commented as you watched Sam turn off the bedside lamp and lay down next to you.

“Yeah, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she denied as she pulled you into her body. Sam brought her hand up to the back of your neck and brought your head close to her chest. You sighed in comfort as you nozzled your head, hoping to get as close as you can to her breasts without making Sam uncomfortable.

Sam placed a kiss on your head as she tightly hugged you, “Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight, my lovely girlfriend who used to hate me,” you cheekily replied, earning a laugh from Sam.

“When will you ever let that go?” Sam asked with a slight annoyance in her voice, but you knew she was joking.

“I don’t know, until I’ve deemed that enough time has passed for me to be able to move on,” you replied, “But a goodnight kiss would help.”

The Latina chuckled at your words as the hand that was your head was now cupping your cheeks, pulling you into a loving kiss. Her lips were soft and warm, and you knew that you could never leave them. So when Sam pulled away, you chased after her lips, hoping to taste them for just a second longer.

But she stopped you, much to your disappointment. “In the morning you will give you all of the special treatment you want. But for now, let’s go to bed,” Sam stated in a loving voice, and all you did was nod your agreement. You placed your head back on your chest as you two allowed sleep to overtake you.

When the morning came, you awoke before Sam, greeting her with kisses all over her face and sweet nothings about how much you cherished her as your girlfriend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @elduster @silentwolfsstuff @maskthedwarf @canvascoloredin

#sam carpenter #scream #melissa barrera #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x fem reader #sam carpenter x reader #Tara carpenter #wlw

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ajortga · 3 months ago

Text

clothes

pairing: sam carpenter x fem reader

word count: 973 (drabble!)

summary: sam loves showering you with affection, even if it means lending you her whole closet.

To say that the weather in New York City is cold is an understatement. It was sunny in the afternoon when you went to browse around your favorite book store.

You had tossed on a jacket beforehand when you got into Sam’s car so she could help drop you off before running a few errands. It was off by the time you arrived. It was pretty warm, you thought your sweater might have been enough.

So you had given it to her and told her she could drop it off at home if she went.

But now, with a hand holding a bag full of new books that were on your booklist, mother nature had certainly had a change of heart. By the time you started checking out and asked Sam if she could pick you up, it was cloudy and freezing cold.

“Pfft, gentle breeze,” you murmur to no one in particular as you walk out. Sam had told you you should’ve brought it just in case, but what’s the point? The aesthetic of you, the “mysterious girl” just looking at books and a Gracie Abrams tote bag hung over your shoulders wouldn’t be so aesthetic with a huge jacket tied over your waist.

Now that you think about it, you could’ve just put it in your tote. Too late cause your sweater was probably at home now. You didn’t want to have Sam say, “I told you so, baby.” You were too stubborn to go back into the store where it was warm.

After a couple of minutes, the familiar black car that belonged to Sam drove by and parked at the nearest open spot. Before you could follow it, she messaged you:

sammy<3: Do NOT even think about walking. I’m not making my baby girl walk in the cold. Change of weather, huh?

You roll your eyes, sigh as you sink back into the bench you were on and start looking through your books.

After a few minutes, you hear someone whistle at you as you turn and see your girlfriend. She put on a leather jacket as she approached. “Hey, cutie. Successful book shopping?”

You bite back a shiver while you nod. “Mm… O-oh yeah!”

She eyes you skeptically, knowing you too well.

“I told you to wear thicker clothes,” she sighs, pulling you into her chest and wrapping her arms around you. “Aye-yai-yai-yai-yai. Here,” she takes off her leather jacket and holds it out to you.

“No, put that back on, I’m not letting you freeze.”

“Bitch, you’ve been freezing. I’m fine, baby, I promise. I’m fine with the cold and walking around the shops for another thirty minutes. But you.. You have the shivers as soon as you get into a room a degree lower than the one you were in. You’re crazy to think I’d let you freeze.”

Okay, now she was just telling you you had a low temperature tolerance.

“No way! I’m not letting you die out here!” You exclaim, you didn’t want her to freeze to death.

She was still holding the jacket in front of you, her eyes showing she wanted you to open your arms so she could drape it against you. “Says the one whose nose is literally tomato red and sniffling. Baby, I swear I’m fine. Come on.”

“No, I can do it!” You exclaim, exaggeratedly stomping around up and down the walkway. Sam just sees a little tiny person dramatically walking up and down as you put out your arms to make it seem like you were some buff guy.

Another gentle, but freezing breeze blows against you, like it was on Sam’s side. It’s not long before you’re holding back shivers and shudders. Your girlfriend raises her eyebrows.

You stomp a few moments more before you come to a stop, slowly turning to Sam with a pout. “Jacket?” You ask, voice small, so innocent and completely defeated.

Sam can’t help but laugh, “I knew it.” She helps you thread your arms through her leather jacket. It was a little oversized on you, she grins because of it.

You didn’t want to tell her that you probably wouldn’t give it back to her. She’d probably come around and search your apartment while you acted clueless, like it wasn’t hiding in your closet with all the other clothes you’ve stolen from her. Sam would never tell you that she found you asleep one night wearing her hoodie and clinging onto a giant teddy bear that she won for you at the fair.

She found it cute, until she realized the teddy bear was wearing another shirt you stole from her. She practically jumped to cuddle you, feeling bad you had to pretend that Sam was with you on nights she worked late.

As the jacket swallows you whole, you hug it tighter against yourself. It smells sweet and leathery with a hint of cinnamon.

It smells like Sam.

It makes you jump up and down happily. A grin plasters on your face as you turn to your girlfriend, opening your arms. You feel very warm now. It’s even warmer when Sam steps closer and envelopes you in her embrace, resting her chin on your head. She runs her hands through your hair and inhales the scent of your shampoo. If anyone can make your stubbornness fade away in a blink of an eye, it was Sam.

“C’mon, cutie. I’ll make you a cup of hot chocolate when we get home, that sound okay?”

You nod as she scoops you up into her arms and begins walking you back to where she parked.

To say the least, you were smothered with affection when you got home. The best part was, Sam didn’t question when her leather jacket was gone from the place it was usually hung up the next day.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x you #samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #melissa barrera x reader #melissa barrera #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega imagines #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader

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sku-nk · 6 months ago

Note

I've been inspired Skunk. Do you lnow that TikTok trend where it's like "When they're all up on my girl in public but she thinks they're just being friendly" and it's that audio that's like COME HERE.

Can I request that.

Come Here.

Synopsis: Some guy's getting a little too close for comfort. Unfortunately for Sam, you're oblivious to it.

Warnings: Language, jealous Sam, Not really controlling but bossy Sam, Just funny shit

A/n: i got your other ask clarifying who u wanted :))

Nothing is ever simple. Never.

Actually, there are a few things that are simple. A lot even. Things that are exactly as they're supposed to be, things that never have any extra complications.

With you nothing is ever simple. there has to be at least billion things that actually prove themselves to be what they should be, yet anything regarding you just can't be one of those things.

Like shopping.

It was supposed to be a boring little shopping trip. It was supposed to be quick. Pick up some things you need around the house, stuff you've ran out of and stuff you've suddenly realized you need. Maybe convince Sam to take you to Victoria's Secret and leave a dent in her wallet.

Honestly, Sam would prefer that to what's going on instead. She'd prefer anything over this. Like sleeping in, or watching a movie, or maybe punching that dude who's got his hand on your back.

What's worse is that you don't even seem to realize what he's doing. You've clearly been standing there for a while now, speaking to some stupid guy with a stupid chain and an even stupider fake deep voice.

At first Sam didn't even know where you were, you'd just wandered off. She'd assumed you were going to get something else on the list. When she caught up to you, finding you at the other end of the baking isle, she wished she'd followed you.

"Just need to start looking right, you know?" This guy says, standing much too close for comfort. "Pull a ten, maybe."

You nod, smiling. "I'm sure you will, Ryan," you say politely.

Sam can see the way his eyes rake over you, the look on his face so clearly filled with want it's actually ridiculous you're oblivious to it. Then again, you always have been. That's how you were with her.

"Shit, if I was like you, I wouldn't need to do all this. But you're just mad pretty," Ryan says, laughing for whatever reason. You're smiling kindly but Sam's got what's probably the dirtiest of looks on her face.

"Oh, thank you," you smile. Sam rolls her eyes. This dude's not your friend.

"Y/n," she says, making her presence known. Your eyes widen and an even bigger smile graces your face, head whipping in the direction you heard the voice. Ryan looks too, though his face is more curious than anything.

"Sammy," you say, as Ryan's hand drops from your back. Sam feels herself let out a breath despite the fact that you're still a little too close to this guy.

"Come here," she says, arms crossing.

"Hold on, this is Ry-" you begin, pointing at the guy who's now a good two and a half feet away, though you don't get the chance to finish.

"Come here." Sam points at the ground in front of her.

You tilt your head, glancing between Ryan and Sam, but you don't protest. You make a face, something between confusion and annoyance. Sam doesn't notice, or else she doesn't care.

"Now," she says, something in her voice possessing an odd sort of finality. You let out an exaggerated sigh and glance at Ryan, who seems to be just as confused as you.

"Sorry, Ryan," you say as you speed up. For some reason, this causes Sam to sigh and roll her eyes again.

She's irritable all of a sudden, you think. She shoots the not so poor guy a look, a look that has him stepping back even further.

"Let's go," she says impatiently as her eyes land on you, urging you to hurry up. You give her a look of your own.

"Why'd you do that?" you ask, despite the fact that you're doing exactly as she's told you to, glancing back like that dude's actually stupid enough to still be standing there. Sam grabs your sleeve and pulls you little closer even though it really doesn't benefit her in the slightest (besides making her feel better) and leans onto the cart.

" 'Cause I did. When you're shopping, you're shopping with me," she tells you, tone suggesting that you doing otherwise is an insult or something alike. "Not some weird ass dude."

"Ryan's not weird-"

"He's weird!" Sam cuts in, throwing a hand up. "Weird and wants you. You're with me, you're shopping with me."

You almost laugh. It's funny. What is she even talking about? Ryan wants you? That guy you just met? Sam notices your little smile out of the corner of her eye and scoffs.

"It's funny 'till he wants a smooch," she says, dead serious.

That does it.

You can't hold it any longer. You burst into a fit of giggles, smacking Sam on the arm. "He was being nice, relax," you laugh, as Sam rolls her eyes for the millionth time.

"He doesn't need to, he's being a little too nice."

"It's not that deep, I promise!" you tell her, grin unwavering.

"It's always that deep! Everybody wants you! All the time! I do!" Sam shoots back, instinctively straightening up as you grab the cart, shaking your head and beginning to push it down the isle. She nearly pulls her hair out when you start fully laughing at her again.

"Made me forget what I was over here for," you say to yourself as Sam follows behind you, saying something about the elderly crossing guard across the street checking you out.

"So you need to stay with me all the time!"

I dunno how to end this guys

#samantha carpenter #sam carpenter #samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x reader #scream 5 #scream 6 #melissa barrera #fem!reader #female reader

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the-thing-withfeathers · 1 month ago

Text

exceeded caution part 6

i get it now

series masterlist | previous part | next part

a/n: OKAY OKAY this is a super fucking long chapter i am so sorry but i had to finish up the rest of the canon and add some cheeky little sam and tara moments for y'all. plsplspls forgive me.

pairing: ex!tara carpenter x f!reader into sam carpenter x f!reader

warnings: LONG ASS CHAPTER. cursing, threatening language, gun usage, knife usage, major character deaths, stabbing, blood, gore, descriptions of murder, straight up murder. 6.7k words.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

“you’re not woodsboro.”

sam’s voice rang in your ears as your head pounded. you were in pain, your arm stung, your eyes felt heavy. it’s like you were coming out of a coma.

when you regained consciousness, you saw that danny was already awake. you tried to speak but you found that there were several layers of duct tape holding your mouth shut. you tried to move then realised you were restrained— that’s why your arm hurt so much.

you were tied to something. you tried to turn your head and you felt a rough, coarse material against your cheek. looking further, you were tied to a mannequin.

you turned over to danny and saw that he was trying to figure out where you were. the room was nearly completely dark, you guys were working only with the light that was shining through cracks in the door.

you deduced that you were probably inside the theater, you were just unsure about where exactly. you knew how you got here, it wasn’t hard to figure that part out. a part of you was frustrated that you allowed it to happen.

you heard commotion outside. it sounded like rattling.

and then it was screaming.

it sounded like tara for a second, you tried to fight against the rope that tied your hands together. you had no idea what was happening out there but there’s no way it was any good.

as the sound got further away, the door clicked open, revealing bailey.

you tried to speak against the tape on your mouth, asking him for help. as he tilted his head, looking at you mockingly, you quickly put together that he wasn't here to help.

"you were just too easy of a target." he said, the shift in his tone was unmissable. he had gone from a man that you relied on to a ruthless killer. "and now sam is gonna suffer the consequences of her actions."

he was a ghostface walking in to collect you and danny. danny tried to fight against the movement but you knew it was no use. the ghostface wheeled you to the stage, setting you on the right side of the glass enclosure that held billy loomis’ get-up. danny was placed on the opposite side.

god, you felt like you were about to throw up. they trusted him. you even trusted him. he was police, he was supposed to make you feel safe.

you suddenly felt a mesh fabric fall over your head. you were wearing one of the ghostface cloaks. you had no idea who it belonged to but you were uncomfortable knowing it belonged to someone that died.

you saw him do the same to danny. your cloaks looked similar, as if they were a part of a matching set. you looked straight ahead and squinted your eyes. the lights were blinding, the fact that there was a sheet in the way wasn’t helping.

you managed to make out shadows running towards the cinema’s entrance door. two, to be exact.

when the doors swung open, you saw sam and tara running into the room. where was chad? and mindy? and ethan? and kirby? you had too many questions. they were down too many people.

strength in numbers.

suddenly, you heard footsteps trade places with each other. one was running towards you and the other was walking away. someone in a ghostface attire brushed past you, you turned to see bailey walking backstage.

you watched as the ghostface leaped down the stage through the sheet. you only had a sliver of vision to work with. you tried crying out again once you saw the two girls come closer, but it was no use. they were too occupied by... two ghostfaces?

fuck. there were three of them.

only two sisters.

a gust of wind opened up more of the sheet. you watched as sam grabbed two bricks and handed one to tara. smart girl. you heard tara cry out for her sister, you felt yourself start to cry at the girl's helpless pleas.

"ready?" you heard sam ask, it was only met with tara's breathless sobs. "i need you to be ready. you ready?"

they were about to fight. you were scared shitless. they had bricks. the killers had knives. it could go any way. you knew that the girls were more than capable, but that didn't stop the images of their dead bodies on the carpet flooding through your head.

"come on motherfucker!" you heard tara scream. there she fucking was. a fire in you was lit when you heard that, you felt yourself ready to spring into action the second you were free.

suddenly, gunshots.

"it's okay!" you heard kirby walk out from the other side of the sheet. fuck, if only she saw you.

"stay the fuck back!" sam yelled at her. what the fuck was going on? why did sam suddenly distrust kirby too?

"we know it's you, kirby." tara said. you saw sam step back, bringing tara along with her.

bailey must have said something to them. him and kirby were in the same field but they butted heads too much. you knew he would try and turn them against her.

"somebody knocked me out!" kirby said in a begging tone, she needed sam and tara to believe her.

"kirby, stop!" you heard that deep authoritative voice again. he switched over too quickly. "get away from the girls!" you saw him come down the aisle with his gun drawn.

"what are you doing?" kirby asked him.

"did you kill quinn? did you kill my daughter?" his act was convincing. if you didn't know any better, you'd believe him too.

wait. quinn. why would he kill his own daughter? unless... oh my god.

"jesus christ!" kirby exclaimed. "whatever he's been saying to you, please don't listen to him. he's probably the killer."

please, please, please.

believe her. please.

the sheet covered your vision again, you had no idea what to think when you heard "behind you!" and three shots fired.

when your field of view increased again, you realised kirby was nowhere to be seen.

no!

you couldn't make out anything more. you heard faint voices but not enough to make anything clear out of it. for a theater, it had horrible acoustics.

you watched as the reveal happened.

ethan went first. he took of his mask, a sinister smile on his face. mindy was right, she was always right.

"fuck it felt good to kill him!" was the only thing you could make out from ethan's speech. him? chad? you had no idea where he was. you hoped that he didn't mean chad.

and then there she was, in all her very much alive glory. quinn.

you knew he wouldn't kill his own daughter.

it was eerily impressive, how they faked her death. you had to hand it to them for that one, it broke hearts. it tore down their morale.

you saw ethan and quinn disappear from your view, replaced by bailey wielding billy loomis' mask, handing it to sam. he wanted her to put it on, she looked repulsed by it.

"if you don't put it on... well..." ethan and quinn worked together to yank the sheet down, revealing you and danny. two spotlights were pointed directly at you. there was also a series of clips projected onto your skin, you couldn't make out exactly what they were.

sam and tara turned around to face you. the looks on their faces were a mix of things; fear, anger, worry, and most importantly, regret.

you were crying.

crying so much that your chest felt tight.

sam wanted more than anything to just run to you and set you free. she owed you a million apologies when you got out of this, but it was her call that ended with you in this position, so she didn't know if you would ever forgive her.

and tara would never forgive her either. seeing your snot and tear covered face broke her to pieces. she still cared for you, and she never wished this on you.

"we have two of your very dear friends to use as leverage!" bailey laughed, stepping closer to the two girls. "the more the merrier!"

quinn stepped closer to you, roughly ripping the tape off your mouth. the skin that held the adhesive grew hot, stinging. ethan walked back down the stage to join his father.

your voice was choked down by saliva and breathlessness, but you still managed.

"sam!!" you shouted at her. you were going to say more but quinn stepped behind you, holding a knife to your throat. you backed your head up as far as you could against the mannequin.

"stay the fuck away from her!" sam barked an order at quinn. but quinn knew she had the upper hand.

"hey tara!" quinn called out to the younger girl. tara turned to look at her, a glare on her face.

"the fuck do you want, quinn?" tara hissed at her.

"isn't it ironic that she's wearing your girl's cloak?" quinn tilted her head. "we thought it would be a little bit symbolic. you wanted her to be so much like amber and now here she is, sporting her wardrobe."

that was revolting. you wanted to take this thing off and take a five-hour long shower. you wanted to claw and itch at the fabric until it was torn into shreds.

"and not just that! sam... your boy toy is wearing richie!" ethan covered his mouth to mock snicker at her. "it's just too good!"

"you made it so easy, sam. when you made that call to leave them outside? we thought we would have to work harder." bailey sneered. "i bet you're regretting it now."

he was right. she was regretting it. she should have trusted you. and even if you ended up being the killer, she would have found a way. sam always finds a way.

"why the fuck are you doing this? you did this as a family?!" sam asked bailey, simultaneously spinning around to keep an eye on you and danny as well.

"oh yeah, bitch! you should know better than anyone!" quinn snapped at her.

"they're still not getting it!" ethan ridiculed them.

"i don't know what you believe but i didn't commit those murders in woodsboro! it wasn't me!" sam was trying to multitask figuring something out, how you could all get out of this alive.

"of course you didn’t! you think this is about that conspiracy theory bullshit?" bailey scoffed. "who do you think started those rumors about you in the first place?"

from behind you, quinn raised her hand.

"do you know how easy it was to turn sam from the hero of woodsboro to the villain?" you weren't surprised. you knew how tech-savvy quinn was, even outside of ghostface. "how easy it is to convince the world to believe the worst in people rather than the best?"

while ethan went on about destroying someone's character, your eyes scanned your surroundings. maybe you could figure out your own way of escaping so tara and sam had less to focus on.

"ah, ah, ah. eyes up, pretty girl. can't take any chances." quinn said, nudging your chin up with her knife. she leaned closer to your ear. "you know, it's a shame tara got to you first, i think you and i could have been fun."

you rolled your eyes at her, "dream on, quinn."

"i never had a chance anyway. i heard you have a thing for carpenters." she giggled. "i wonder how you're gonna feel when we slaughter them both in front of you."

"fuck off, quinn!" you spat at her. she just laughed softly and stood back upright.

"so when dad here 'discovers' your horribly mutilated bodies posed with sam wearing her father’s mask? he’ll say some poor dumb bastard must have read on the internet that you’re the real ghostface and took matters into their own deluded hands!"

it was an interesting plan, you thought, they would get what they wanted. they would get sam out of the way and get away with their own crimes. the only way for you all to get out of it though? kill them first.

"and even better! we'll say you went crazy and wanted to relive what you had with richie, so you dressed poor danny up in his clothes and killed him!" ethan's laughter hurt to hear.

"that's why it’s the perfect alibi!" bailey was practically jumping for joy. "because like all the best lies are based on a truth - you’re a killer, just like your father was."

"don't listen to them, sam!" you interrupted him. bold, you knew. but you had to say something to get her to focus on the real goal. she looked at you and nodded.

"i'm not a killer!" sam screeched.

"yes you are motherfucker, you killed our brother!" quinn's voice was piercing your ears. she had raised her voice and you had to recoil to avoid your eardrums being burst again.

"your brother?" tara started. "your brother died in a car accident."

"people lie, tara!" ethan interjected. "our brother died in woodsboro... at the hands of your bitch sister!"

sam blinks for a beat. she looks at ethan, then at quinn, then at he detective. she saw him in them. she just had to look hard enough. there was only one person it could have been.

"richie?" she pauses. "you're richie's family?"

ethan lunged forward, driving his knife into her collar. you let out a scream as sam clutched her wound, tara holding her up to support her.

"ding-ding-ding! she's getting it now!" ethan said, stepping back again.

you watched as tara and sam knocked over a statue and made their way to the side of the theater.

ethan gave chase,. tara swung a brick towards him, nearly nicking him.

"come on!!" you roared, trying to push them. you were about to scream again until you felt a sharp pain at your side. your cry of fury turned into a cry of pain. quinn had stabbed you, her knife completely inserted into your side. "fuck!" you cried out.

sam and tara both turned their attention to you. the knife hanging out of your side was enough to send both their lunches back up. sam's eyes hardened, like she was turning into a completely different person. she swore that she would wrangle the life out of quinn, even if it was the last thing she did.

"there she is." quinn smirked at sam. "there's the fucking killer."

you felt the wind sucked out of you when she retracted the blade, blood trickling down into your hipbone. the pain was unbearable, you didn't know how sam recovered so quickly after being stabbed.

"nice job with the parenting." tara mocked bailey.

"shut up!" ethan yelled, shoving tara and sam back over to the middle aisle. "get over there!"

bailey huffed. "am i a perfect dad? no. did i overindulge richie's fascination with these silly movies a little too much? maybe." he held his hand out. "for me, they're just a little dark."

you agreed with him. they made your stomach churn. you first watched them with mindy when you discovered the series of killings in woodsboro. she wanted to show you the films to give you a better insight on what happened. yes, they were overexaggerated but they still played a big part in the franchise.

"but... richie really loved them." he feigned a crying tone. "he even made a few of his own."

you realised that the clips being projected on your body were richie's films.

bailey ascended the steps, moving closer to you and danny. quinn made her way over to danny too, you knew that if the sisters tried anything, he would suffer an injury too.

"richie was a very passionate collector, as you can see." bailey gestured to the entire theater.

"this... this was all his?" sam asked, her voice stuttering.

you had grown to hate this richie guy. you hated the idea of him hunting sam down and earning her trust, only to turn out to be an obsessive creep.

"it was. and he even seemed to inspire others. so we had to kill those wannabe's... because we wanted the privilege of taking your life." bailey shrugged. "i built this shrine for him after he died to honour his memory." he turned around to watch his son's film again. "which is why this is where you have to die, sam."

"what happens next? after you're done with us, what? you just disappear?" sam asked, shaking her head.

"no!" bailey waved his hand at her in dismissal. "we gotta hurry over to the hospital to make sure mindy and gale don't pull through!"

mindy. mindy was at the hospital. you knew something was wrong when you didn't see her come in with everyone else.

"because everybody dies, sam!" bailey raised his gun to point the barrel at sam. "everyone who had anything to do with the death of my son! suffers. and dies."

"fuck yeah!" quinn and ethan cheered for their father. they were pumped up and ready to slash their knives at anything.

"now put on the mask." bailey ordered her.

you watched as sam looked at the ground. her face changed. she had all that pent up rage brewing deep down inside of her. it was reaching its boiling point. you almost leaned forward in anticipation.

"he was..." sam breathed slowly. "so pathetic."

yes, he was. cause anyone who decided that it would be fun to cross sam was absolutely fucking pathetic.

bailey stumbled over his words, his voice turning nasal. "that's... that's not true!"

sam was drawing them in, poking at all their weak spots. she was trying to rile them up then shoot them down. tara knew what she was doing, she understood her sister more than anyone.

"yeah... he was a man-baby." she prodded further, "who made his girlfriend do all the killing."

you wish you could see the detective's face right now, he was beginning to crack. you found amusement in it.

"he was a strong, virile young man?" jesus, who uses virile?

"he was a limp-dick little fuck." she stressed her words. "who cried before i slit his throat."

there she was, that was your sam. the sam that carried the rage of a thousand suns and the sam that wouldn't hesitate to use it to save the ones she loved.

"shut the fuck up!" quinn yelled from the stage, running straight towards tara. she jumped down and tara swung the brick at her. you swear you saw her teeth fly out of her mouth.

kirby suddenly rose from her state, firing bullets at detective bailey. tara ran straight for you, grabbing a blade from one of the cases. as she cut you loose, you watched kirby get tackled to the floor by ethan.

sam turned around to help her. as he plunged his knife into her, sam hit him in the head with a brick. she yanked the blade out of kirby as ethan recovered, a hand on the back of his head.

"got it!" tara declared, undoing the ropes. you put a hand to your side, it was still bleeding but you were confident you could pull through.

"go help danny!" you told her. she was about to turn but you pulled her back suddenly. "thank you. you did well." you said to her, she nodded and turned back around to run to danny.

danny ran out the back door, tara pushed a prop closet in front of it to block it. she sent him to get help and wanted to maximise your chances of getting it.

you faced sam again, only to see her jabbing her knife into ethan's chest, multiple times.

good, you should do it more. you said in your mind.

more. more more.

she stopped after tara got her attention, staring to climb the ladder to the second floor. sam ran to where you were standing at the bottom. she wanted to throw her arms around you, but you weren't even looking at her.

you wanted her to do the same but not now. she left you earlier, she left you to get taken. sure, she didn't mean to serve you up on a silver platter.

but she broke her promise to you.

you couldn't face her but you had no choice.

"i can't do it. my arm." you had been working on regaining mobility in your hand, but your arm wasn't strong enough yet.

"tara! i need your help!" sam called out to her sister, who was already up there. she then turned to you. "it's okay, we'll get you up there."

you had zero confidence in yourself at the moment. you knew it was going to be incredibly hard for you, but wishful thinking sometimes gets you places.

you put your foot onto one of the steps, using your good arm to hoist yourself up a bit more, climbing the steps you could make. you leaned back a little then lunged your body forward, grabbing the next railing. tara leaned over the banister, reaching a hand down to help you in that last bit.

you had gotten a fair amount up, before quinn suddenly shoved sam out of the way, knocking her down and grabbing you by the shirt. she yanked you down and you fell on your back, groaning.

quinn dragged you by the hair to the middle of the stage. sam was about to follow but you stopped her.

"no, sam!" you commanded her. "tara needs you! i've got this!"

she hesitated. but you were firm in your choice. you would get angry with her if you had to.

"go! now!" she made her way up the ladder and joined tara upstairs. you caught them slowly making their way through the ruins of the abandoned theater.

quinn dropped your hair and took a few paces away from you. you managed to get yourself up but you were slightly hunched over due to the pain from your side.

"hey, pretty girl." quinn taunted you. "you look good covered in blood. maybe you should join our little troupe here." she twisted her blade around her fingers.

"like hell." you scowled at her.

"what? you can't blame a girl for trying!" she chuckled. "come on, you're the perfect killer! just like sam, maybe that's what makes you good for each other, actually."

you tried to regain your breath and strength back as quinn monologued. you winced as you applied pressure on your stab wound.

"you're kind and very very injured. nobody would ever suspect you." she said, her voice turning sultry. "don't you wanna hurt tara for what she did to you? that was your first real heartbreak, wasn't it?"

she took your silence for an answer.

"don't you see? these carpenters are fucked up. they're scum. it would be so much better if the world went on without them." she pointed the knife at the two sisters. "use that fire in you."

you were letting your anger get the best of you now. you wanted to kill quinn for even thinking badly about them. but the question is, could you actually kill someone?

the thought was repulsive. you hated pain, blood, it wasn't something you could take. you didn't think you could take someone's life as easy as anyone else in the room. nevertheless, you wanted her subdued.

"shut up, quinn. you wouldn't know about fire even if it was burning your eyebrows off." you spit out a little bit of blood that was filling your mouth, glaring at her. "this is so fucking boring, you're all talk. where's the fight?"

your head turned sharply at a clattering noise. tara was dangling from the second floor, sam was holding onto her for dear life. ethan took the chance and started swinging at her feet. quinn screeched and charged at you, her blade in the air as she knocked you down to the floor with her shoulder.

she immediately went for your weak arm, stepping down on it and applying her entire body weight on it. you shouted at the sting, you felt like you were a kid all over again, remembering how you felt when it first happened.

she straddled you, one knee on each of your sides. you struggled against her as she used two hands to bring the blade down on you, you were able to get your hands to push against hers.

good! your arm was functional but extremely weak and painful. you had functionality of your fingers still, giving you less of a disadvantage.

you gritted your teeth as you tried to overpower her.

you saw tara still hanging in the corner of your eye. you had to do something now.

you swung your leg up to knee quinn in the back, throwing her off balance. you shoved her until she rolled off you. you stood up to go after her and at least knock her unconscious.

your head practically turned on its own when you heard crashing behind you. tara had fallen off the balcony and into ethan’s knife. your eyes widened as you watched the knife enter her stomach.

your attention flickered to sam on the second level who was coming face to face with bailey.

quinn battled cried behind you, recovering from her stumble. she thrusted her knife into your shoulder, you wailed out in pain. you shouldn’t have gotten distracted. you had to focus.

you kicked her again, ramming the heel of your foot into her thigh. her leg gave out, releasing her knife that was still inside you. you clamped your hand over it’s handle and pulled it out of you with a grunt.

you swerved sideways and switched places with quinn, standing directly behind her. you stomped down on the back of her other leg, getting her to kneel in front of you. you grabbed a handful of her hair, forcing her head up.

could you really do it? you had the upper hand now, you had a choice to make. did you have it in you to rob quinn of the rest of her life? this was so far from how you made yourself out to be. you thrived on being good to others in hopes that they would do the same for you.

on the contrary, you were good to quinn. and here she was, ready to end your life if given the chance.

as the sight of her brother taking a blade to the mouth unraveled in front of her, you thought that maybe death was too generous for quinn. she could continue to live a life without her family. you watched as tara twisted the knife in ethan's mouth, a proud smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

you almost released quinn and succumbed to your desire to simply knock her out and tie her up so she couldn't interfere anymore.

but then you remembered.

"the last two people that fucked with us ended up dead."

and so has everyone that has fucked with them since. and so has everyone that tried to before. who were you to break the pattern?

"how do you like it now, quinn?" you leaned forward, whispering into her ear. you placed the blade against her throat. "down two brothers." you chuckled, pressing the blade down against her skin.

you watched as sam and bailey fell off the railing in a fight. sam hit the floor while the detective hit the glass case. you were worried for a split second before reminding yourself where you were. you weren't going to give up this advantage.

"and now your father will join you too. i hope you all have a nice family dinner in hell."

front and center stage, you dragged the knife across quinn's throat. the blood spilled like a gushing river. you couldn't watch even as you committed the act. you averted your eyes as you let her body drop to the floor.

you stepped down from the stage, holding onto your wounds. you let your severely damaged arm hang from your side. you felt like a zombie.

you rejoined sam and tara. you saw that tara was holding onto her own battle scar. you coughed up blood but chose to ignore it, wanting to check on the other two.

the three of you stood above the detective's unconscious body. you turned to the two sisters. this really was a damn family matter.

"so... what now?" you asked them. sam sighed softly, relieved that she didn't have to worry about two more of them anymore. she had her sights on bailey.

"i have an idea. but you and tara should take a second." sam put a hand on her sister's shoulder. tara nodded, slowly starting to make her way towards the seats. you followed behind her.

sam grabbed your wrist to stop you. you couldn't do this now. you yanked your hand away, just as she did to your hand when you tried to hold hers. she looked hurt, but understanding. she expected this reaction out of you.

"not now, sam." you shook her off. "i'm not having it."

and truth was, you geniunely weren't. you didn't want to deal with apologies right now, you wanted to make sure everyone was okay.

she was at least thankful for your honestly. she sadly nodded at you and turned back to bailey. you watched her take the stage, opening the glass enclosure that held her father's attire. she gripped it tight in her hands then put it on.

you sat next to tara, grunting as your back hit the seat. tara cautiously leaned her head on your shoulder, you found that you didn't mind the contact. you were glad that she was there with you, very much alive.

"i get it now." you murmured. "well... not to your extent, obviously. but i get it now."

she looked at you, a confused look on her face.

"never gonna be okay after this." was all you could get out.

she sat upright again and turned her body to face you. "i'm so sorry." she bit down on her lip, not knowing how to reassure you.

"we'll have each other though, right?" you asked her. she nodded quickly.

"always." she grabbed your hands, holding them in hers. your eyes trickled from her to sam, she glanced over at her sister too.

"you know she didn't mean what she said." tara turned back to you as she said that. "when she left you behind outside?"

"she definitely said it with her chest, tara." you breathed out through your nose. you know sam wanted to protect everyone, but you couldn't help but feel upset that she didn't trust you enough. "even then, she was right. i'm not woodsboro, i'll never understand fully what you all went through."

"yeah, i know. but that doesn't mean that you aren't one of us." tara said. "and she knows that. you're important to her. she was doing it to protect you too."

sam was wielding her father's own blade. she looked like she was in her element, which was strange as you never saw her as a killer. even when she did have a higher kill count than most people. but you knew it was her will power to end this whole thing that was driving her.

she walked over to the middle aisle, picking up billy's mask and putting it on herself. she looked frightening under the mask. it sent a shiver through you.

sam departed from the aisle, moving back towards the stage. you spotted bailey starting to stir, you grabbed tara and ran off. you took her to the backstage area, both of you deciding that you would stick around for sam.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

"what's your favorite scary movie?"

she embodied ghostface well. you admired her dedication to the bit. you knew it would scare the daylight out of bailey, to have the tables turned on him this time.

you watched as bailey ridiculously fired his gun at the mannequins. you flinched at the loud noises and held onto tara as she did the same. you didn't know where sam was, you were watching from the shadows.

"stop fuckin' around and show yourself!" he growled into the phone. he was trembling, sam had him right where she wanted him.

quiet.

"i’m a fucking police officer! what are you gonna do, huh? who do you think they’re gonna believe?" he spun around, trying to keep an eye on all his blind spots.

"probably the one that's still alive."

that shook him. he threw his phone away out of frustration.

from the shadows emerged sam's silhouette. as bailey turns at the last second, sam rams the knife into him. into his shoulder, his chest, everything she could get.

she was a fucking force of nature. a powerhouse if you'd ever seen one. the legacy her father held, she rewrote it herself.

she retracted her blade and lifted the mask off her face. and she was sam again. she was panting softly, the force she used to mutilate bailey took some energy out of her.

you and tara joined her on stage just as she was about to take another hit. she paused, her gaze softening at the two of you.

you looked at her. really looked at her.

you tried to keep your thoughts to yourself but you couldn't help it.

she looked good.

"my father was a murderer." she lowered the knife. "no matter what you think. i’m better than that."

bailey thanked her for her mercy. but then she looked to tara, as did you. tara tilted her head, as if giving her permission to change her mind. and then she looked to you. you read tara's expression and knew what sam was looking for in your eyes.

you met her stare, before looking away. you gave her a single nod. and you almost missed the smug smile that was plastered across her face.

"but you did fuck with our family so..."

the detective didn't even take a breath before sam jabbed the knife into his eye socket, all the way in.

he groaned in pain, his body shaking. he tried to raise his arms to fight back but it was too late.

you had looked away in time. you still felt your stomach churn at the sight of another dead body.

you heard his blood gurgle in his mouth as he took his last breath.

"nice." tara awkwardly said, trying to break the silence.

"are you guys okay?" sam asked, starting to take off the cloak.

"hell no." tara said. sam looked over to you and you shook your head too.

tara walked back down to the steps of the stage, sitting down on it.

you were about to follow then you spotted quinn's body. you felt yourself grow increasingly repelled at the sight. you reached for the sheet that was torn down to reveal all the masks and cloaks and threw it over her. it was the last good thing you'd ever do for her.

you let sam and tara have their moment to talk. you figured that they didn't have many talks together over the past few days, always being surrounded by others.

you walked over to the gate that locked you all inside the theater, hearing footsteps outside.

just then, ethan resurfaced, screaming his lungs out at the girls. you were about to run back to them but he was quickly stopped by a tv flying at his head. you almost laughed.

"saw that in a scary movie once." kirby joked through her injuries.

"you'll have to show me that one." you joked back.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

danny came in with reinforcements shortly after.

you watched as tara and sam talked to kirby who was now lying on a stretcher. when she was wheeled into the ambulance, you rejoined them.

you and tara both had your left arms in casts.

"hehe... matching." you said, nudging her side. she appreciated the banter returning.

"we should try cooking together like this or something." tara's dimples were flashed at you as you saw her crack a smile.

"that could be really fun." you snickered.

sam approached the two of you and tara got the hint.

"i'll give you two a second." she said, walking away and towards a group of officers.

sam rubbed her hands nervously, not knowing what to say to you.

"i'm sorry for leaving you." she started off. you admit, it was a good start. it was what you wanted to hear. unfortunately, she wasn't going to get a pass.

"you broke your promise to me." you gritted your teeth at her. "you said you wouldn't leave me alone."

"i know, i know. and i regret it. so much." she bit down on her bottom lip to try and stop tears from falling.

"i opened myself up to you, sam!" you choked down your own sobs. you were so afraid that you were going to die without saying anything to her because she left you behind. "i thought we were... i thought we had something!" you prodded your pointer finger against her chest.

"we do! we do have something!" sam dropped her jacket, opting to grab your hands and hold them against her. "i never meant to make you feel like i didn't want you. i just wanted to protect everyone. i thought that by leaving you behind, you wouldn't be hurt." she shook her head. "i never meant any of that, i just knew you would be determined to join us inside. and i couldn't have you hurt."

she was so sweet sometimes, she knew exactly what to say to pull you in. you were still angry at her, but you saw where she was coming from a bit clearer now.

you scoffed in her face, rolling your eyes. "that's bullshit!" you sneered at her. "we said we'd protect each other. i would have been safest next to you. i will always be safest next to you."

"you don't know that. this could happen again." she had to be realistic about the situation no matter how devoted you were being.

"i know. and i will be right here no matter what. the least you can do is return the favor."

"okay... i'll never leave you behind ever again." sam said, kissing your knuckles.

"you can do better than that." you grumbled, not wanting to settle for just a kiss to your hands.

sam grinned at you, stepping closer and wrapping her hands around your waist. she pulled you closer and captured your lips in a soft but passionate kiss. she was being gentle with you, trying not to hurt you. you found it sickeningly adorable. it was a juxtaposition from the intensity you saw from her earlier. your good arm wrapped around her neck, pulling her in closer. it was your way of saying that she wasn't going to break you.

"chad!" you heard tara yell. you quickly pulled away and saw chad being wheeled out on a stretcher.

thank god.

you and sam jogged over to chad.

"how are you alive?" sam asked. he raised his hand with four fingers up. mindy quickly came running in.

"are you guys okay?! i know who the killer is! it's ethan and bailey!" she said, stopping in her tracks.

"and quinn." sam added.

"and quinn? fuck!" mindy's hands slapped against her side in frustration. "did i miss the monologue again?"

you smiled at the sight of the four of them together. mindy was mumbling incoherent words to tara and chad. you giggled softly as she exclaimed that you all made it out alive.

you turned to sam again, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"hey, you." you poked her side, trying to get her attention.

"yeah?" she asked, turning to you with a smile on her face. it was to die for.

"i'm kinda starving." you chuckled, your stomach grumbled. fighting off a masked killer was hard work.

"okay well, we can go and get something to eat at the hospital." sam suggested.

you groaned softly at her not getting the memo.

"okay. that's fair. but i'll be kinda starving in a few days too so how about we go on an actual date then?" you flashed a sheepish smile her way.

she laughed at your attempt to ask her out.

"okay sweetheart." she pressed a kiss to your temple.

"promise?"

"hell yeah."

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

authors journal OKAY I KNOW IT LOOKS LIKE THE SERIES IS DONE BUT IT ISNT I PROMISE I HAVE LIKE 3 MORE PARTS UP MY SLEEVE. anyways i am SO SORRY for how long this chapter was, bailey fucking talks so much in the movie and i was trying to keep a lot of the final fight elements in. this literally took me a full 12 hours to write. anyways, back to MY yapping this time. i figured i should probably mention that i didnt forget about the tara kiss and i will bring it back for later. its my secret mousekatool. i also wanted to talk a bit more about the title of the series. i was thinking of changing it to 'promises, promises' cause obviously thats a thing with sam and the reader but i actually got it from a song! it's this one right here.

it actually has nothing too much to do with the series itself but i love the song heaps and i think the reader would too. its about getting away from something that was ruined for you by a relationship, i think thats pretty symbolic still. i also really wanna know what side stuff you guys want! i do have a few headcanons that i wanna write up but i wanna know if there's anything specific you want like blurbs or specific headcanons. i have one for 'if the reader chose tara' coming up which is pretty fun. overall, i hope you guys have been enjoying so far and i wanna hear everythinggggg you guys have to say. whether its in comments or reblogs or my inboxes, i'm so happy to read all of it. anyways, i shall stop yapping now. much love to everyone that has supported me in this so far. xx.

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forthewomenonly · 1 year ago

Text

You Belong to Me

Warnings: NSFW, smut, Sam Carpenter x reader, Sam Carpenter x Fem Reader (implied, no pronouns used), choking, semi exhibitionism, fingering (R receiving), oral (R receiving) , Top!Sam, jealous Sam, R’s really a pillow princess in this one (Sam gets nothing) a/n: Lowkey hated on Ethan this entire fic sorry guys. Made him sound like a bitchy pervert...he is.

Sam was jealous. This isn’t a surprise Sam is always jealous, but she’s seething watching him shamelessly flirt with you in the comfort of her own home. Him being Ethan Landry. Sam hates Ethan Landry and his feigned innocence, she sees the way he looks at you. Of course she sees it, Sam looks at you the exact same way. He’s not the innocent virgin angel he claims to be, and the thought of him thinking of you in anyway other than platonically makes Sam feel violently nauseous. Ethan comes over twice a week to study with Tara, meaning that twice a week he gets to see you. How could he be so blind? Obviously you were Sam’s, everyone knew that. Yet it doesn’t stop him from throwing an arm over your shoulder, or complimenting your outfits in ways that are far too descriptive to be seen as friendly. Sam wants Ethan out of her home, and she briefly considers asking Tara if they would relocate their study sessions elsewhere. She quickly dismisses that thought as she realizes she doesn’t want her baby sister anywhere alone with that perv. She narrows her eyes, grimacing as she notices Ethan lean over and whisper something in your ear. The fit of giggles that you erupt into is more than enough to soften her gaze. But how dare he. How dare he make you laugh like that, that was Sam’s job. You aren’t Ethan’s. You belong to her. You belong to Sam. She grips the kitchen counter tightly, knuckles turning white and her hand veins bulging. Sam’s huffy and irritant, counting down the seconds until Ethan leaves her apartment. Her ears perk up as she hears Ethan finally begin to pack up his belongings, she walks up to the front door in long strides, opening the door to speed up the process of his departure. After hugging you for much longer than necessary he meets the angry Carpenter at the door. “Bye Sam!” he waves. Sam grumbles some distasteful words under her breath in annoyance. Not that he could hear her anyways as she slammed the door in his face the second he stepped out of the apartment. --- The next time Ethan comes over, Sam is prepared. He doesn’t get a chance to say hello to either of you as Sam drags you into your shared bedroom the very moment Ethan walks in. You laugh as she shuts the room door in haste turning to face you. “What’s got you all riled up today” you say playfully poking at her chest. “You.” She growls. Your teasing grin wiped off your face instantly. Sam lunges forward capturing your lips in a heated kiss, moving downwards to kiss and suck at your throat. She all but tears your clothes off leaving you naked in front of her. “Sam- slow down.” you gasp out. You’re unsure of what has her so excited at the moment but you welcome the lustful attention, reaching your hands down to the hem of her shirt, lifting it over her head. You stop briefly taking a moment to gawk at Sam’s shirtless body. God she looks so hot. Her arm muscles are so defined and her forearm veins are so attractively visible, blood pulsing through her hand and arm veins from how hard she’s gripping your hips. She removes herself from you, settling down on the bed and propping herself up on her elbows. Immediately you follow her to the bed climbing on her stomach. Sam inhales sharply when she feels your wet cunt against her skin. Placing your hands on her chest, you rock yourself against the ridges of her abs. You let out a loud moan rolling your hips faster against her, Sam’s hands guide your hips in a steady rhythm. She flexes her abdomen and quickens pace making your body shudder, your moans increasing in volume. Usually Sam would have slapped her hand over your mouth by now to keep you quiet, but when you look down at her she just smirks at you, moving your hips faster against her. “Sam I c-can’t” you whine out desperately. The corners of her lips quirk up into a smile and she flips you onto your back. Sam knew that you wouldn’t be able to cum just from grinding on her stomach, you needed her help. You always do. You need Sam to make you cum, not Ethan, not anyone else. Sam. She prides herself in the fact that you’re no longer able to get yourself off properly. You can’t make yourself cum anymore, your own fingers incomparable to Sam’s fingers, tongue, or strap. Moving her hand down, Sam harshly presses her thumb against your puffy clit and you cry out loudly. Since she has decided against quieting you, you reach your hand up to cover your mouth yourself as Sam continues playing with your sensitive bundle of nerves. She can see you biting your hand and is not at all impressed. Sam grabs both of your wrists and pins them above your head with one hand, while using the other to roughly shove two fingers inside your dripping cunt. The muscular girl removes her hand from your wrists and uses it to squeeze your throat, she feels your pussy flutter against her fingers as she drags them through your gummy inner walls. Your moans are loud and frequent, making Sam quicken her pace and curl her fingers, massaging your g-spot with each thrust. You cum with an obscenely loud pornographic moan, soaking Sam’s fingers and grinding into her hand. Sam moves down the bed, using her strength to pry your legs wider open. Opening her mouth to messily lick up all of your juices, she has a mix of her saliva and your wetness dripping down her chin and onto the bedsheets. Licking wide stripes through your folds and up to your clit. She takes the pulsing nub between her lips, sucking vigorously. You’re close to orgasm again and you buck your hips up trying to press yourself harder against Sam’s tongue. “Gonna cum Sam, gonna c-cum so hard.” you whine. Her fingers press harder into your thighs and you’re sure they’ll bruise. She lifts her head up looking you in the eye before pushing her fingers back inside of you, in place of her tongue. “Say my name.” “ W-what?” “Say. my. name.” she repeats. “Sam. Feels so good Sammy.” you moan breathlessly. You clench impossibly tight around her long, thick fingers and Sam knows you’re about to cum. “My name, say it again when you cum. I want to hear it.” “Fuck Sam! I’m cumming!” you scream out, rolling your hips out in time with her slowing thrusts. She pulls her fingers out, pushing them into your mouth making you taste yourself. Sam stands up brushing your damp hair out of your face delicately and kisses the tip of your nose. She pulls a shirt on before exiting the room to grab you water. Walking up to the fridge she can see her younger sister’s disgusted expression and has to fight the urge to snicker. Turning her head she sees Ethan. It was her name you moaned, not Ethan’s. He’ll never get to have you like this because you’re all Sam’s. His jaw is slack, eyes wide, and his gaze flitters everywhere in the room except for Sam, he avoids eye contact with her desperately. Clearing his throat he packs up his belongings and gives Tara a meek “goodbye”. Sam smirks in victory, before turning to walk back into your room, water bottle in hand.

Tara rolls her eyes exasperated, now she has to study all alone just because her sister got jealous. Sam can be a real dick sometimes.

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x fem reader #sam carpenter smut #sam carpenter x y/n #smut #melissa barrera #melissa barrera x reader

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the-oblivious-writer · 11 months ago

Text

Comfort Crowd

Core Four and Fem!Reader | Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader

One-Shot: Social Media Au, No GF Au

Summary: Just you, the core four, and a few other scream characters being chaotic

Warning(s): Swearing, "kys" being thrown around (once & jokingly ofc), no gf au, best friend's older sister & age gap (sam is 25/26 & r is 19)

Notes: First time doing a social media au thing for a fic soo if you have any feedback lemme know. Hope you enjoy, this was honestly fun to make

3/7 for Seven Days Of Christmas

mindythegreat

liked by chadtheman_meeks, ambers_notafreeman, and 8,563 others

mindythegreat: can’t take these bitches anywhere @y/n @justalilguy

view all 8,432 comments…

chadtheman_meeks: I just know your asses are freezing 💀

>justalilguy: SHE THREW ME ASS FIRST

>y/n: THREEWW?? YOU JUMPED ON MY BACK THEN SLIPPED

>justalilguy: LIESS

>y/n: YOU CAN SEE IT SO CLEARLY IN THE FIRST PHOTO

>justalilguy: GASLIGHTER

>y/n: LITERALLY STFUP

chadtheman_meeks: now they're at it in the replies 😭

>ambers_notafreeman: LMAO

—

y/n

liked by justalilguy, chadtheman_meeks, and 4,127 others

y/n: we studying tf outa this exam 😤

view all 2,598 comments...

chadtheman_meeks: you spent the first 20 mins deciding on what playlist to use and then another 10 flirting with the librarian

>y/n: and you spent the first half hour giggling with liv on face time 🤨

mindythegreat: chad knows how to read??

>chadtheman_meeks: fuck you.

justalilguy: I see you've started without me 😒

>y/n: WE WERE SUPPOSED TO MEET LIKE TWO HOURS AGO??

>justalilguy: IT'S NOT MY FAULT MY ALARM DIDN'T GO OFF

>y/n: WE WERE MEETING AT 4 HOW MUCH SLEEP DO YOU NEED???

samcarpenter1997: @justalilguy This is the study session you slept through?

>justalilguy: sam?? since when did you have insta?

>samcarpenter1997: Mindy helped me set up an account

y/n: @justalilguy why have you never told me that your older sister is so breath taking? that's breaking girl code 😔

>justalilguy: no. just no. stay away from her.

>y/n: I was just making an observation? btw can I come over?

>justalilguy: NO.

>y/n: so in 30 mins work? great! tell sammy I won't be long

>justalilguy: YOU DID NOT JUST-

chadtheman_meeks: @justalilguy it's a canon event.

>not_ethanlandry: she hit on my sister too

>justwes: and mine

>livvy: mine too

>ambers_notafreeman: same.

>justalilguy: @y/n you have a fucking problem

—

y/n

liked by ambers_notafreeman, mindythegreat, and 8,752 others

y/n: bro's too stubborn to admit she needs help reaching the top shelf

view all 4,673 comments...

ambers_notafreeman: lmao she's so short not even tip-toeing would help her reach

>mindythegreat: rip amber

>livvy: was nice knowing you ames

>justalilguy: oh? well if I'm so short then ig I can't kiss you

>ambers_notafreeman: I didn't mean it in a bad way bby 😢

>justalilguy: there's a good way? please. enlighten me.

ambers_notafreeman: @y/n wat do I do.

>y/n: hm? oh, sry, I was too busy laughing at your ass being in the doghouse for the 3rd time this week 💀

>ambers_notafreeman: kys.

—

samcarpenter1997

liked by y/n, mindythegreat, and 6,732 others

samcarpenter1997: (sam? putting a caption? funny.)

view all 4,873 comments...

y/n: KSHFSKH I mean- Gorgeous as always 💕

>samcarpenter1997: Thank you! 🙂

>justalilguy: GTFO OF HER COMMENTS as for you @samcarpenter1997 wtf was that???

>samcarpenter1997: Your friend gave me a compliment. I literally just said thank you.

>justalilguy: since when do you actually reply to comments?? second of all, THE EXCLAMATION MARK AND EMOJI??? Sam. for you, that's basically jamming your tongue down her throat

>samcarpenter1997: I was just being polite, you're really overthinking this

>y/n: yeah, @justalilguy just listen to the drop dead gorgeous woman

>samcarpenter1997: @y/n Talking about yourself?

>y/n: oh!! 🤭

>justalilguy: I've died and this is hell.

—

y/n

liked by samcarpenter1997, justwes, and 9,892 others

y/n: me and my fav drummer boy @juswes are back at it again

view all 8,992 comments...

justwes: anything for my favorite guitarist 😊

>y/n: ❤️

chadtheman_meeks: I better be the first to hear it!

>y/n: was there any doubt??

samcarpenter1997: That guitar looks good on you

>y/n: bet you'd suit me better

>samcarpenter1997: We could test that theory

>y/n: oh, how I'd love to

>justalilguy: what. the. actual. fuck.

—

mindythegreat

liked by ambers_notafreeman, chadtheman_meeks, and 8,968 others

mindythegreat: LMAOO guess what she just walked in on

view all 8,572 comments...

chadtheman_meeks: I KNEW IT I KNEW IT

ambers_notafreeman: @justalilguy I just got your text, I'm so sorry babe 😭

>justalilguy: IN THE FUCKING LIVING ROOM

not_ethanlandry: I don't get it?

>justwest: same

>chadtheman_meeks: y/n and sam were making out and Tara saw them...

>justwes: OH...y/n's gonna be annoying asf now right?

>chadtheman_meeks: 100%

—

y/n

liked by samcarpenter1997, nik, and 6,432 others

y/n: LOST IN THE LABYRINTH OF MY MIND

view all 5,897 comments...

justalilguy: this is my new waking nightmare.

>chadtheman_meeks: I tried to warn you

>ambers_notafreeman: you should see the look on her face rn

nik: aww, you guys are so cute together 🥰

>y/n: thank you anika<33

not_ethanlandry: you said you weren't looking for a relationship?

>y/n: with you. I wasn't looking for a relationship with you

>not_ethanlandry: noted

mindythegreat: @ambers_notafreeman pay up

>ambers_notafreeman: @y/n you couldn't have waited another week before posting how down bad you are??

>y/n: the heart wants what the heart wants

samcarpenter1997: 🖤

>y/n: 🤍

>samcarpenter1997: Are you coming over later?

>y/n: ofc I am 😉

>samcarpenter1997: Then I'll see you later, beautiful

>y/n: skhfkhfksh see you 🥰

mindythegreat: @justalilguy weren't you just telling me you think they look good together?

>justalilguy: MINDY

—

chadtheman_meeks

liked by justalilguy, ambers_notafreeman, and 8,997 others

chadtheman_meeks: @y/n was supposed to put them in for 10 minutes...she put them in for 30 😐

view all 8,542 comments...

justalilguy: @y/n how tf do you mess that up

>y/n: I don't appreciate being attacked rn

>justalilguy: hm?

>y/n: ...I wanted them a extra crispy

>justalilguy: you're such a dumbass sometimes 💀

>y/n: actually I'm just a girl

ambers_notafreeman: @y/n aren't you always saying how you'd be a housewife for the right woman and shit

>y/n: that still stands!!

>ambers_notafreeman: how do you expect to do that when you can't even bake cookies??

>y/n: wow. I wasn't expecting such sexism from you- chad maybe but you? it's the betrayal for me 😦

>ambers_notafreeman: idk how I tolerate you

>chadtheman_meeks: um hello???

—

y/n

liked by justalilguy, samcarpenter1997, and 9,896 others

y/n: Merry christler🎄❄️

view all 9,047 comments...

-----------

A/N: Tara and R in a nutshell (poor chad getting caught in the middle)

854 notes · View notes

brooooswriting · 1 year ago

Note

Can you write something about Melissa Barrera with a reader who’s shorter than her? :)

Yo shorty

Melissa Barrera x reader

You Met Melissa on the set of scream 6, you were her makeup artist and it was great. She was always very nice and polite, she was on time, didn’t stress you, wasn’t mad if something didn’t work out the first time and was always easy to talk to. You and her were a dream team all of the people you work with always told you which made both of you blush, but truth be told you were a great team. 90% of the time you were the first that were done, there was always laughter filling your trailer and you barely needed a second try on anything by now.

At some point your relationship with Melissa turned into more of a friendship, while everybody else had conversations about the set you were talking about your love life, her family and friends, just everything to the point where your colleagues started shipping you two.

Funny thing though, you have never been with Melissa when she was standing, she already sat in your Trailer when you came back with the makeup you needed and you often left the trailer before her. And due to her full schedule you had never met outside of set, even though that was planned.

The first time was when your co worker had a doctors appointment later that day so you had to change shifts, she would do her make up in the morning and you’d stay on set for fixes during the scene.

It seemed like nobody notified Melissa as she was utterly confused why nobody came running in way too late and hugging her sitting figure as a ‘hello’ and a ‘sorry for the delay’. “where’s y/n?” She asked as she sat down, ready to get her make up done. “We had to switch shifts, but hello to you too” anna, your coworker, grinned as she started with the foundation. “Oh you know I didn’t mean it like that” the brunette joked, sad that she didn’t see you in the morning.

She first saw you that day when you were coming on set, running again because you were late, crushing into her as a hello, your normal greeting by now. Except that this time Melissa didn’t have to look up to you, no she had to crane her neck to look down at you. About 20 cm under her line of eye, were you standing hugging her waist. She knew that you’d be smaller than her but she never thought that you were that small. Her arms wrapped around your shoulder nonetheless, she was slightly giggling while the rest of the cast was awing. “What are you laughing about?” You asked when you finally parted, “nothing, just your lateness” she lied, she didn’t want to point out the obvious. “Very funny” you grumbled as you pulled out a brush with fake blood on it to fix her forehead, the only problem was that even when you stretched your arm you couldn’t quiet touch her forehead the right way to fix the makeup. Jasmin immediately laughed out loud, Mason awed again while Jenna looked at you like she could relate.

This time Melissa wasn’t just giggling she was full on laughing, “want me to bend down?” She grinned at you making you roll your eyes. “Well you can bend down or I can punch you in the stomach so you have to bend over in pain” you deadpanned, Jenna smiling proudly. “Uhh, you got a feisty one Mel” Jasmin laughed again, you turned your head and raised an eyebrow at her which made her shut up and take a step back. “Let’s do my makeup over there” she grabbed your hand and pulled you behind a wall, sitting down on a chair which gave you better access to her face. “It’s cute that you’re so small” she muttered out, it wasn’t uncommon for her to flirt with her but you still blushed and mumbled a quick ‘thanks’ to her. When you pulled the brush away her hands grabbed your small waist, pulling you closer to the point where you sat on her lap, this was new. “Let me take you on a date” she spoke out causing you to freeze, the fact that you didn’t answer made her keep talking, “come on, we’ve been flirting the whole time and I promise I’ll treat you right, I’ll spoil you, love you and I’ll defend you when somebody makes fun of your height” you couldn’t help but laugh out at the last part. “Wouldn’t that be unprofessional?” You asked scared that this might get you fired, “it’s fine, I’ll talk to the producers alright? So can I pick you up tonight?” Your faces was tomato red and you didn’t trust your voice so you only nodded causing her to smile. “I’ll be there at 8”

Your first date was great, you got something to eat and just talked. After that followed 5 dates in the next 5 days, you couldn’t stop seeing each other. Both of you had wanted this since you started filming, you still decided to keep it on the low and not tell anybody right away. At least until your 7th date.

You slept over at Melissa’s, you had drunken a bit and she didn’t want you to drive so you decided to stay, being the gentlewomen she is she wanted to sleep on the couch but after a short discussion you shared the bed. She was nervous, which was pretty cute to you, you had to grab her arm and wrap it around your waist to indicate that cuddling was fine. That night you spent in her arms as the little spoon, due to the cold weather her body heat warmed you perfectly, especially because her body engulfed yours nearly completely.

The only problem was that you forgot to set your own alarm, you woke up to the actress’s alarm. “Mhm, turn that off” she grumbled into your neck her arms pulling you closer by the waist, you stretched your arm out to stop the alarm until you saw the time. “Fuck” you yelled out and jumped out of bed, “what’s wrong?” She asked quickly sitting up too, “it’s 5 am, I have to be there in 30 minutes, we have a conference today” you explained doing the math in your head, there was no way that you would have time to get home and get dressed and you couldn’t wear the dress you wore yesterday for the date, it was way to revealing for work. “It will be fine, you can wear some of mine cloths” she said, standing up and opening her closet. “Everything will be way to big on me” you pouted but it was your last option any way.

So Melissa found a pair of boyfriend jeans that were too short for her and you put on a hoodie from her and your chucks. You looked okay, but you felt awesome as the cloths smelled like her. “I gotta go, I’ll see you at 6 am right?” She nodded as she gave you a to go cup with coffee in it. “Alright, see ya later” you said and stood in your tippy toes signaling her that you wanted a goodbye kiss. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips while her hand rested on your waist, squeezing lightly. After a couple more kisses you finally parted.

You ran towards the conference room at 5:32 am, you were late but at least it was only 5 minutes. “Sorry, lots of traffic” you said as you speed walked towards your seat. “Aren’t those cloths way to big for you?” Anna who sat next to you mumbled out. “No, I ordered oversized ones” you lied keeping your eyes on the producer. Your coworker decided to let it slide this time turning back towards the producer.

When you walked out of the meeting it was 5:55am, “well, I’m gonna go get Mel ready” you said and walked to the trailer where Jasmin and your date already sat. “Nice cloths y/n” Jasmin called after you making you blush, “thanks, they’re new” you lied taking some makeup out of the shelf’s. “Really? I didn’t know they sold hoodies with the writing ‘Barrera’ on it” she laughed causing you to blush and for the first time you looked down and saw her name written on it. “You guys are so cute, but chill I won’t tell a soul” she added and you thanked her before walking to Melissa who was trying to stop laughing.

“You ass! You gave me that hoodie! You knew that your name was on it!” You hit her shoulder making her laugh even more, “well it’s cute” she only said before kissing you softly. “Shut up and turn so I can do your hair” you grumbled out.

“I gotta ask you something” Melissa spoke up as you sat on her couch watching football, “shoot” you mumbled turning your head away from the TV in front of you. “Well, you know that the premier of my new movie is gonna be soon right?” She asked and you nodded, “yes, I can do your make up” you laughed and kissed her cheek but she only shook her head. “No, I want you to come with me… as my girlfriend” she said. You stopped in shock only starring at her. “Your…girlfriend?” You repeated and she nodded. A smile formed on your face, and you threw yourself onto her lap kissing her as a ‘yes’.

Two weeks later you stood on the red carpet with her, her arm mostly resting on your head as a armrest making the others laugh while you grumbled. When the pictures turned serious she hugged you from behind, her arms around your waist and your head tucked under hers. “I love you shorty” she mumbled into your hair. You turned around and kissed her with your hands on her neck, “I love you too you asshole” you mumbled before turning back.

#reader insert #brooooswriting #melissa barrera x reader #melissa barrera #Melissa Barrera x y/n #Melissa Barrera x fem!reader #sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x you

627 notes · View notes

czalzver · 1 year ago

Text

lipstick stain

a/n: short little drabble for u cuties

warnings:none

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!reader

summary: in which u leave ur lipstick stain on her bottle.

word count: 500+

You're in history class, your teacher is out of the classroom saying 'it was an emergency' but when others gave that excuse she wouldn't let them go. Your leg bouncing up and down you can feel your mouth begin to dry up; you left your water bottle at home. You don’t know why or how your like this. On Monday it was your school ID, Tuesday it was your glasses, Wednesday it was your binder, and now it’s your water bottle.

“I really think I’m gonna die of thirst.” You say to your friend, as the teacher walks back in to the classroom.

You raise your hand, whilst the teacher ignores you.

“Yes, Ms. L/n.”

“Can I go get a drink of water?”

“No you guys are gonna leave soon.”

You looked at the clock.

5 minutes left. I can survive this, you thought to yourself.

Turns out, 5 minutes felt like an eternity. You rested your head as the pain grew more and more, you looked at the clock once more til it showed 12:59. Quickly people around you gathered their things shoving them into their backpacks. You grabbed your stuff, the bell rang, you just decided to hold onto your stuff. Getting up from your seat, clinging your bag to your shoulder, side by side with your friend.

“Hey, You’ll be fine I’m sure your next teacher will let you get water.”

“I have Wednesday next period, I can get some of her water.”

You didn’t know it yet, but surely your other friend did, you definitely felt someone more than friends toward Wednesday.

“Hey, can I borrow your mirror really quick?” You ask you friend, taking a darkish red lipstick from your bag. She hands the mirror to you, with a big goofy grin on her face.

“Why are you laughing..” You ask with a smile and a confused face all together. You open the mirror looking through it, before touching up the red in your lips.

“Isn’t it obvious?” She tells you. You shake your head, handing her mirror back, walking off before she can say anything else.

You hide behind the door, fixing your hair. As you go inside, you see Wednesday seated in the middle right side. You go over to her, playing your bag down, swiftly taking a seat before anyone else could.

“Hi, Wednesday.” You smile at her, the presence of her just making you warm, which normally to others is humanly, physically impossible due to her cold personality. But you always saw more to her than that.

“Hello.” She said with a monotone voice.

“You think I can get some water?”

“Did you forget your water bottle,” Wednesday turns her gaze at you, your face softening up with her black filled siren eyes. You nodded slowly, “Not surprised, L/n.” She grabbed her water from her bag, sliding it over to you. You internally smiled, grabbing it from the desk opening it.

You took a sip, your shoulders fall in relief, your mouth no longer dry anymore, everything just filled with relief. You close the lid, "Let me get some." Wednesday tells you. You take the top off, sliding it over to her. Wednesday goes to drink it, before seeing what was on the side. Wednesday turned a bright pink, her body radiating with heat.

Your lipstick stain was left.

2K notes · View notes

shdysders · 1 month ago

Text

if only

pairing: tara carpenter & reader

summary: if only tara would’ve chosen you for you, and not for who you were like.

word count: 3.2k

You knew it was normal for people to turn to alcohol after experiencing trauma.

The way it numbed the pain, dulled the sharp edges of haunting memories—it was something you had seen before, something you understood. After everything Tara had been through, it was the least you expected.

The massacre in Woodsboro had left her with more than just physical scars.

The betrayal of someone she had once loved—Amber, who turned out to be Ghostface—was a wound that cut deeper than any knife.

It wasn't just the shock of Amber's true identity, but the fact that Tara was the one who had to pull the trigger, killing the person she thought she knew in order to save her sister.

The memories of that night were like a broken record, stuck on replay.

Every time Tara closed her eyes, she was back in that room, her hands shaking as she held the gun, her heart pounding in her ears.

She would hold you tighter during those moments, as if the strength of her embrace could keep the nightmares at bay.

The way she kissed you harder, more desperately, or questioned where you were every time you left the room—these were her ways of keeping you close, of making sure she wouldn't lose you too.

You had known Tara all her life.

Growing up together, you'd always been close, but after everything that happened in Woodsboro, something had shifted between you.

It started small—extra moments of closeness, lingering touches that lasted just a little too long, her leaning on you more than ever before.

The change was subtle at first, but undeniable. When she started seeking you out not just for comfort but for something deeper, you couldn't bring yourself to resist. The truth was, you had started to feel something more for Tara too.

But as the days went by, you couldn't ignore the creeping doubt. That maybe you were just another distraction for Tara, another way to keep the darkness at bay.

Yet, whenever that doubt arose, she would somehow sense it, her arms wrapping around you tighter, her voice low and reassuring, even without you needing to say a word. That unspoken understanding only seemed to confirm your thoughts.

After the move from Woodsboro to New York, you had hoped that a change of scenery might help her start to heal.

But you weren't sure if it had made a difference. If anything, the bustling city seemed to give her more ways to bury her grief.

Tara threw herself into the whirlwind of college life, attending every party she could find, which in New York meant there was always something going on.

Every weekend, without fail, she was out late, coming home blackout drunk more often than not.

You were the first to notice the change in her. The way her hands trembled slightly when she thought no one was looking, the dark circles under her eyes from sleepless nights, and the way she buried herself in the noise and chaos of those parties—anything to keep from facing what was inside.

She would beg you to come with her to these parties, holding your hand a little too tightly as if fearing you might slip away in the crowd.

On nights when you had to study or work at your extra job, she would assure you she was fine to go alone.

But that assurance never lasted, always ending with you getting a call in the early hours to come and get her, to carry her back home when she was too far gone to stand on her own.

And tonight was no different.

You had been studying late into the night, the quiet hum of the city outside your window doing little to keep you company as you poured over your textbooks. The words on the pages blurred together as exhaustion settled in, but your mind wouldn't let you rest.

The quiet of your apartment seemed more restless than usual, and no matter how many times you turned over, sleep eluded you. You were used to going to bed alone on nights like this, used to Tara being out and about, so it wasn't her absence that kept you awake. Still, something nagged at the edge of your consciousness, keeping you from drifting off.

Finally, just as you felt yourself slipping into sleep, your phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen lighting up the room. Groggily, you reached for it, squinting at the brightness.

It was Chad. Your heart sank a little as you answered, knowing that a call from him at this hour could only mean one thing. Yet you didnt hesitate before answering

"She's asking for you," Chad said quietly, his voice gentle but insistent. "She's... she's pretty far gone, and she won't leave until you come."

You rubbed a hand over your face, trying to shake off the fog of near-sleep. "Where are you?" you asked, already pulling on your clothes.

He gave you the address of some off-campus apartment, the kind of place that always seemed to be hosting a party. With a sigh, you grabbed your keys and headed out into the night.

The streets were empty as you drove, the glow of the city lights casting long shadows across the pavement.

You knew the route by heart now, having made similar drives more times than you wanted to count.

As you pulled up to the address Chad had given you, you spotted him standing by the curb, holding Tara up as she swayed on unsteady feet.

She was dressed as a pirate, her costume in disarray, her hat missing, and her eyeliner smudged. Her head lolled slightly as Chad helped her toward your car, her feet dragging along the pavement.

"Thanks for coming," Chad said quietly as he eased her down into the front seat. He lingered for a moment before adding, "I don't know how many she's had tonight."

You nodded, trying to muster a tired smile. "Thanks, Chad. I'll take it from here."

He gave you a sympathetic look before stepping back. "Be careful," he said, the concern clear in his voice.

Once Chad closed the door, you turned to Tara.

She was slumped against the seat, her eyes half-lidded as she stared out the window, lost in whatever haze the alcohol had put her in.

For a moment, you considered trying to talk to her, to get her to see reason, but you knew better. This wasn't the time for deep conversations, not when she was like this.

As you started the car and began driving, you couldn't help but break the silence. "Tara, you can't keep doing this. This needs to stop."

You didn't know how much longer you could stand by and watch her destroy herself.

She blinked slowly, turning to look at you with bleary eyes. For a moment, she just stared, as if trying to process what you had said. Then her expression hardened, her brows knitting together in a frown.

"I don't need you telling me what to do," she muttered, her voice slurring but laced with irritation.

"Amber wouldn't have."

This was always how it went—her getting pouty and defensive, like a child refusing to be told what to do. She always brought up Amber whenever she was drunk, throwing her name out like a shield, deflecting from the real issue at hand. It hurt to hear, but you were used to it by now.

You sighed, and after a moment, you answered softly, "I know."

When you finally pulled up in front of your apartment building, getting Tara inside proved to be a struggle.

She stumbled with every step, her legs barely supporting her weight, and you had to practically carry her up the stairs.

Every time she leaned too heavily on you, you feared you both might topple over, but you held on, determined to get her inside without waking anyone.

By the time you reached your door, you were exhausted.

Tara mumbled something incoherent as you fumbled with the keys, trying to keep her upright.

Once inside, you helped her move as quietly as possible to avoid waking Sam. The last thing you needed was her storming out and seeing Tara like this, not again.

With Tara still leaning heavily on you, you guided her to her bedroom, the familiar path feeling longer than usual.

She was stumbling more than walking, and every time she nearly slipped, you tightened your grip, your patience worn thin but still holding.

You finally managed to get her into her room, her weight heavy against your side as you guided her to the bed.

The moment her legs hit the edge, she let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "You know, sometimes I think I'm just with you because it's easy," she muttered, her words slurred but cutting through you like a knife.

You winced, though you tried to hide it, focusing on helping her sit down.

The bed creaked under her as she slumped forward, her hands gripping the edge as if the room were spinning around her.

Her eyes, glazed over with a mix of alcohol and exhaustion, seemed unfocused.

"Like... you're just there, and I needed someone. Anyone."

She let out another laugh, this one quieter, more resigned. You could see the way her shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of her even as she kept talking.

Her words hurt, stabbing into you with a cruel edge, but you knew better than to take them at face value when she was like this. Still, it was hard not to feel the sting of her honesty—or what passed for honesty in her drunken state.

You stayed silent, biting your lip to keep from saying something you'd regret.

Instead, you knelt down in front of her, gently removing her shoes one by one, focusing on the small, mundane task to keep your hands from trembling.

You told yourself she didn't mean it, that she was just drunk and hurting, but the doubt was there, creeping in like a shadow.

Tara didn't stop, the alcohol loosening her tongue further. She swayed slightly, her eyes glassy but filled with something unreadable, something that made your heart twist in your chest.

"Maybe if... if things had been different, I wouldn't have picked you," she continued, her voice wavering.

Her words were slow, as though she were piercing them together as she went, each one a careful, painful blow. "It's not like you're the love of my life or anything. You were just... there."

Her gaze finally met yours, and for a moment, she seemed almost vulnerable, like she was teetering on the edge of something she couldn't pull back from.

You searched her face, looking for some sign that she didn't mean it, that this was just the alcohol talking, but all you found was the deep, gnawing ache of doubt.

Your throat felt tight as you fought back the urge to cry, the tears welling up despite your best efforts to push them down.

It was one thing to know she was drunk, that she was hurting and lashing out—but it was another to hear those words from someone you loved. To feel so disposable.

You took a shaky breath and forced yourself to focus on the moment, not the weight of her words. But the hurt lingered, a heavy presence in the room that you couldn't shake.

Still, you swallowed hard, keeping your voice steady. "Arms up. Let's get you changed."

She hesitated, her gaze lingering on you as if searching for a reaction. When she didn't get one, she huffed in frustration but lifted her arms anyway, letting you help her out of her costume and into more comfortable clothes.

You gently guided her arms into the sleeves of a soft, oversized shirt, the fabric brushing against her skin as you helped her pull it down.

Tara swayed slightly, her head lolling to one side, but you remained focused, carefully easing her out of her costume.

As you slipped her into a pair of comfy sweatpants, you noticed how she barely reacted, her eyes staring blankly at a spot on the floor.

You adjusted the waistband and made sure the pants were comfortable, avoiding any pinching or tightness.

With the costume set aside, you carefully adjusted her shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles and ensuring it fit comfortably.

You avoided meeting her gaze, you could feel her stare and how she was looking at you. Angry, like everything you did was wrong.

You helped her lay down on the bed. You adjusted the pillow behind her head and reached for the covers, but before you could pull it over her, Tara's voice broke the silence.

She looked up at you, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that spoke of frustration and raw emotion. There was a hardness in her gaze, as if she was challenging you with the truth she was about to reveal.

"You know I only chose you because you're like her, right?" she said, her voice laced with anger, as if saying Amber's name was an effort in itself.

You froze, your hand still hovering above the covers. Even though you already knew who she was talking about, you asked quietly, "Like who?"

Tara's eyes bore into yours, and she said sharply, "Amber."

The anger in her voice was palpable, but you could also sense regret hiding beneath her words, as if she knew how much she was about to hurt you but couldn't stop herself.

You took a deep breath, trying to mask the sting you felt in your chest. "How come?" you asked, keeping your voice as steady as you could, even though your heart was pounding.

Tara looked at you with a sharp gaze, almost inspecting your face for any hint of vulnerability.

When she didn't get the reaction she was searching for, it was as though something darkened behind her eyes, pushing her to keep going, to say worse things, as if she could force you to break.

She looked at you with unfocused eyes, her expression tight. "You look just like her when you smile," she slurred, her tone was sharper now, as if the words were meant to cut deep.

"The way your eyes crinkle up, it's like you're her twin or something."

She paused, a hint of bitterness in her tone. "And your laugh—God, it's just like hers. It gets under my skin.

As she spoke, her words seemed to drift into a bitter, almost mocking tone, as if the resemblance to Amber was a cruel joke to her. The laughter in her voice contrasted sharply with the hurt it left behind.

You stood there, feeling increasingly insecure about your smile, your laugh, and everything that had been said. The sting of her words left you questioning everything you thought you knew about how you presented yourself to her.

Her words felt like knives, each one slicing through you, but you remained still, biting back the pain. Inside, a storm of emotions raged—anger, sadness, disbelief—but you fought to keep them at bay, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing you crumble.

"You're always trying to be so understanding, acting like you know exactly what I need. It's exhausting, really," Tara continued, her voice growing harsher, the alcohol pushing her to say things she might've kept hidden otherwise.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.

Memories flashed through your mind—times you had gone out of your way to do things for her, to make her feel better or to bring a smile to her face.

You had done so much because she asked or because you hoped it would mean something to her. But now, it felt as if everything you had done was just a game or a trivial pursuit in her eyes.

When she still didn't get the reaction she wanted, Tara's voice rose, almost desperate now. "You don't matter, you know? Not like she did."

That last statement shattered something inside you. You blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears from spilling over, but they came anyway, hot and unwelcome.

The room seemed to close in around you, her words echoing in your head.

You knew—deep down, you'd always known—that you couldn't compete with a ghost, with the memory of someone she loved so deeply.

Tara had brought Amber up countless times before, always with a mix of regret and longing that you had tried to ignore. Each mention of Amber, every story she told with a hint of nostalgia or pain, was a reminder that you were always secondary in her heart.

You remembered the times when, after a few too many drinks, Tara had let slip how Amber had been irreplaceable, how no one could ever fill that void.

You had brushed off those comments, hoping that with time, you could make her forget or at least help her heal.

But now, standing here, the truth was undeniable. You had tried so hard to be what she needed, but you could never be what she wanted most.

And yet, Tara wasn't done. Her voice grew louder, almost as if she wanted the whole world to hear her torment.

Her gaze was distant, and she started to laugh bitterly. "You have no idea how badly I want to break up with you," she slurred, her voice rising with a frustrated intensity.

Her voice grew louder, and you were starting to worry she would wake Sam up. "You look at me with all this love. And I can't handle it. It's like... I feel suffocated by how much you care, and it's not even real for me."

You swallowed hard, struggling to keep your voice steady as you tried to process the pain. "I'm sorry," you said, the words barely escaping your lips, as if saying them aloud would make the hurt even more real.

Tara's eyes were drooping now, her anger slowly dissolving into exhaustion. But before she could drift off, she mumbled, almost as if to herself, "Might as well tell you the truth... you'll probably stay anyway, right?"

Her tone was a mix of bitterness and resignation, as if she knew, deep down, that no matter how much she tried to push you away, you would still be there.

Her words stung more than anything she'd said before, and you felt your chest tighten.

You took a shaky breath, your own emotions raw, and wiped away the tears that had started to fall. Forcing a smile, even though it felt like a fragile mask, you gently pulled the covers up around her, smoothing them with careful, tender motions.

As you leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, you noticed her breathing was becoming more even, the last traces of consciousness slipping away. "Goodnight, Tara," you said quietly, your voice trembling as you tried to keep it as gentle as possible.

She murmured something incoherent, her words tired and slurry, before finally succumbing to sleep. You lingered for a moment, watching her with a heavy heart, wishing you could make her see how much you truly cared.

As you walked out of her room, the quiet of the apartment settling around you like a heavy weight, you paused at the door. The hurt from her words still fresh, you whispered to the empty space, the heavy words that she couldn't hear.

"I love you."

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persevereforahappyending · 1 month ago

Text

No Man's Land |3|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Fighting, Stabbing, Attempted Murder

Word Count: 2.6k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Sam tossed and turned in her bed. She had been trying to fall asleep since she got back from her therapy session. She sat up in her bed, running a hand through her hair. She glanced out the window, watching the raindrops slide down the glass. A light rain had started right after she got home, it just now seemed to be stopping a couple hours later.

She slid out of bed, stretching her arms and legs. She walked over to the window and checked that it was locked, even though she had done so before she got into bed, just like she did every night. She pushed off the windowsill and made her way out of her room. She didn’t hear any talking or the TV playing, which told her everyone else had finally gone to sleep.

She passed Tara’s room first, making sure to stop and check on her sister. She gently opened the door, making sure to go slow enough that it wouldn’t creak. Tara always rolled her eyes when she caught Sam checking in on her, but unless they were in the middle of arguing Tara didn’t seem to say anything about it, Sam thought Tara might have actually appreciated this part of her overprotectiveness. When Sam peeked her head around the door, she saw Tara sprawled out on her bed, peacefully sleeping, one of her arms was half hanging off the bed. Sam couldn’t help but smile at the sight, she was glad her sister could still sleep even with the potential of Ghostface out there again.

Sam gently closed the door as she stepped back into the hall. She hated the door being closed but it was the one thing she compromised on with Tara. She knew if she made Tara keep her door open all the time, she would be crossing the line, and her paranoia would truly be taking over their lives.

As she crossed through the kitchen she peeked her head into the living room. Chad was clutching half his blanket tight against his chest as he was reclined back in the recliner. He occasionally shifted, adjusting himself in the chair and gripping the blanket tighter. Sam shook her head at the sight, somethings never changed, Chad used to do the exact same thing when Sam would babysit him, and he’d pass out on the couch or chair while everyone watched a movie.

Sam silently chuckled at the sight of Mindy and Anika sprawled out on the couch. Anika was cuddled into Mindy’s side, her arms wrapped around Mindy’s waist. Mindy had her right arm wrapped around Anika, holding her close, while her other arm was stretched across the couch, hanging off the side, and her head was thrown back, her mouth half opened as she not so quietly snored.

Sam moved back into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator only to see it bare. It had been a second since they had done any grocery shopping and with the twins constantly coming over, they were running out of food much quicker than they’d normally would. She let the door gently close and when she was glancing around the kitchen her eyes landed on the pizza box still sitting on the dining table. She shrugged and flipped open the lid, seeing exactly one slice left. She quietly laughed to herself, it was better than she was expecting if she was being honest, with Chad around there was hardly ever leftovers. She grabbed the slice and took a bite, enjoying the taste of cold pizza.

Once she finished her pizza she paced back and forth a bit, trying to calm her mind. She hadn’t stopped thinking about Ghostface possibly being out there, about what detective Bailey said about the two students that were killed. If they were planning on trying to kill her and Tara but they died instead, that meant someone really wanted to kill them their self. Sam wasn’t sure who she could have possible pissed off enough to want to murder her. Then she remembered she didn’t have to do anything, her existence was enough to make her ex want to pretend to fall in love with her and then try and kill her, all because her dad was Billy Loomis.

Sam ran a hand through her hair, she tried to shake off the excess energy she had from all the anxiety. “Fuck it,” she whispered. She didn’t think as she grabbed her gym bag and filled her water bottle.

She made sure to scribble a note in case Tara or any of the others woke up. She did a quick once over of the apartment before walking out the door, her gym back slung over her shoulder. She triple checked the locks before she made her way down the stairs. She knew it was stupid to go off on her own, in the middle of the night no less, but there was only one thing that she knew for sure calmed her. Working out in the middle of the night always seemed to help her de-stress more than anything. She kept telling herself she would only be gone an hour as she began the walk to the gym.

Sam looked both ways as she crossed the parking lot, it was three in the morning and there was no one in sight. Sam still couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, she wanted to right it off as her paranoia getting to her, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Ghostface was truly back. She kept replaying checking on Tara and the twins and locking the apartment in her mind. They were all together, they were all safe, she locked the door, she triple checked that it was locked, but she wasn’t there. If anything happened, she wasn’t there.

She knew she shouldn’t have left them home alone, especially not with Ghostface most likely back but she needed to calm her nerves. She couldn’t stand being in that apartment and not moving. She just kept telling herself that Ghostface usually has a plan and Sam highly doubted that plan involved attacking everyone at the apartment when Sam wasn’t there, that didn’t seem like Ghostface.

Sam swiped her card and waited to hear the little buzz before flinging the door open. As soon as she stepped into the entryway the lights started to kick on. Sam wasn’t sure if they were emergency lights or what but after regular gym hours only a few lights turned on and it was always when the person was in that area of the gym.

Sam looked around the room, besides where she was standing the only lights that were on were the ones that were always on around the perimeter of the room. Even though she didn’t see any cars in the parking lot she knew that didn’t necessarily mean the gym would be empty. She didn’t see any sign of life though. Even though being in an empty gym alone always put her on edge, she was happy for the alone time. She was sure if anyone else was in the gym at the moment she wouldn’t be able to take her eyes off them, assuming they were there to stalk and kill her.

Sam sighed as she walked over to the treadmills. She dropped her bag on the bench next to the treadmill and took out her water bottle. She plopped her water bottle into the cupholder on the machine and began changing the settings. She started slowly walking as the machine got going, popping her earbuds in before it got too fast. Just like before she started off with a light jog, she just needed to work out for an hour or so, exhaust herself enough so she could fall asleep.

She had just started to relax and lose herself in a song when she caught movement of a black cloak out of the side of her eyes. Sam jumped to the side, balancing herself on the right side of the treadmill just as a knife slashed against the controls of the machine. Sam’s eyes went wide as she stepped back off the machine, Ghostface stood before her, tilting his head back and forth as he held the knife at his side.

“Fuck,” she whispered. She knew this was a bad idea, she should have never left the apartment, she knew better than to go off on her own. Ghostface being here at least meant Tara and the others were most likely safe.

Sam walked backwards, weaving her way between the other workout machines. Her eyes never left Ghostface as she slowly followed, getting ever so close with each step. She knew it was only a matter of time before Ghostface ran at her, luckily the one thing she had on Ghostface was that she knew the gym like the back of her hand. Sometimes being paranoid paid off, she scoped out the layout of the gym, memorizing where everything was and where all the exits were the first day she ever stepped foot in the building.

Ghostface suddenly stopped in their tracks making Sam suck in a breath. She could practically see the smile behind the mask. She didn’t need to turn around to know exactly what was behind her. The far-right wall was all brick, lined with weights, the only places for Sam to go was either rush Ghostface and dodge his knife or take her chances by running to the right because on her left was more gym equipment and the windows to the front of the gym.

Sam continued to back up until her back bumped against the weight rack. She steeled her expression. Ghostface slowly stomped forward, his movements calculated but clearly not thinking she was a threat. Sam stared straight into the dark abyss that was the eyes of the mask, her hand felt around behind her until she finally gripped the handle of one of the weights.

As soon as Ghostface raised his knife Sam tightened her grip on the weight and swung it around with all her might. The weight smashed against Ghostface’s hand, sending the knife clattering to the floor. She didn’t hesitate to take off to the right, not bothering to go for the knife. She just needed to get away and get back to Tara.

Sam ran through the gym, the lights clicking on behind her as she passed under them, running too fast for most of them to catch up to her. She jumped over one of the benches but didn’t slow down. She slid when she made a sharp left turn, aiming for the front door.

Ghostface slid in front of her right, making her come to a hard stop before she crashed into him. He didn’t hesitate this time to slash his knife at her, making her lean back, watching as the blade just barely missed her.

Ghostface stalked forward, slashing his knife and making Sam back up once again. She clenched her jaw and glared at the mask figure; he was blocking the front door. She glanced to her left, seeing the glow of the red exit sign in the far corner. She had never gone out that way before, if the door opened it set off an alarm, but she knew it spilled out into an alley. She didn’t really want to end up in a dark alley in New York with Ghostface chasing her, but it seemed to be her best bet.

Sam made a dash for the door, but Ghostface jumped over one of the benches putting himself between her and the door again. She raised her arm when he swung his knife, slashing her forearm this time. Ghostface moved to slash her again, but she stepped back, tripping over a weight someone had left out.

She brought her other hand to her arm, trying to stop the bleeding as best as she could. She backed up until she hit the bench behind her. She could only watch as Ghostface stood tall above her. There was another flash of movement out of the corner of her eye, and something slammed into Ghostface, sending them stumbling back.

Sam couldn’t help the way her mouth fell open at seeing you standing tall, you were the only thing between Sam and Ghostface. Sam could only look up at you, you had seemingly come out of nowhere. She caught the light from the showers out of the corner of her eye, that must have been where you had come from, you had to have been at the gym before Sam ever got there.

You stepped forward, tilting your head as you looked at Ghostface. Your back was to her, but Sam couldn’t see any fear in the way you carried yourself. Ghostface stumbled backwards as you continued forward. Sam had never seen Ghostface intimidated by someone without any weapon.

Ghostface finally seemed to figure themselves out as they gripped the knife tighter and began slashing wildly at you. You leaned from side to side, effortlessly dodging each slash as if you had all the time in the world. You just kept moving forward, forcing Ghostface to walk back, getting further and further away from Sam.

Ghostface stabbed the knife at your right side, making you jump to the left to dodge it. He then stabbed at your other side, but you grabbed the punching bag and blocked the knife. As soon as Ghostface ripped the knife out of the punching bag sand began spilling out of it. You didn’t wait to shove the punching bag, making it smack right into Ghostface’s chest.

Ghostface nearly lost their footing, Sam was surprised the hit hadn’t sent them to the ground. They brought their free hand to their chest, definitely having the wind knocked out of them, they’d surely have a major bruise in the morning. Ghostface tried to shake off the hit though and swung his knife again.

You caught his wrist midair, giving it a hard twist, making him lose grip of the knife. You reached out with your other hand, catching the knife before it could hit the floor then released your attacker’s wrist. You spun the handle around in your hand before you began swinging it at Ghostface.

Each slash of the knife held power, each slash with the intent to kill. You didn’t hesitate to swing the knife; it was as if you had done this before. Sam was sure you could quickly close the distance and end Ghostface, but you were almost playing with him. Ghostface continued to scramble back until the back of their foot caught a mat and sent them to the ground.

You stood above Ghostface, tilting your head as you looked down at them. Sam held her breath as she waited to see what your next move would be. You flipped the knife in your hands, you looked quite comfortable with a knife, almost as if holding it were natural.

You raised the knife but before you could bring it down onto Ghostface another one came out of the shadows, stabbing you in the side. You collapsed to your knees, but you didn’t drop the knife, you swung your arm, slashing the second Ghostface on the leg. The second Ghostface didn’t attack again, they ran forward, helping the first one up and the two rushed out the exit, setting off the alarm.

You finally dropped the knife, falling back to the ground. Sam scrambled to you, pulling out her phone and dialing 911 as she kneeled down by your side. “It’s okay,” she whispered, pressing her hands to your wound. She tried to stop the bleeding as best as she could as she waited for help to arrive. She didn’t understand why you’d help, why you’d risk your safety for her.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19

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celiastjamesoscar · 1 year ago

Text

Wish I Knew You

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader, established relationship

Summary: Unofficial meant many things to people, but to college students it meant one thing: party. But unofficial takes a turn when you get into a fight, and Sam has to walk you home.

Warnings: swearing, destruction of property, breaking and entering, light mention of drugs, drinking

AN: based off of an idea I ‘stole’ from @p0rkbun, I love ya!

My Masterlist

Word Count: 3.5K

“I know it’s unofficial, but please, you guys, be safe. Okay?” Sam pleaded as she looked at the group of kids before her. Technically, they weren’t kids, but in her eyes, most of them would still be those kids she used to babysit. Well, all of them but you.

You met Sam through Anika after she moved to New York, and you were instantly in love even though she wouldn’t even spare you a glance most of the time. Those big, brown eyes that held years of pain and agony brought you so much comfort whenever she would look at you. Her lips never smiled, so you made it your life mission to make her smile, even if it was just for a mere moment. And when you did make her smile after you went on a drunken tangent about how Isaac Newton deserved to die a virgin and how Dr. Pepper is the best soda, she knew that she was in too deep.

Dammit to hell with getting accepted into the best universities the country had to offer and all those scholarships you had received that paid for your schooling at Blackmore University. None of those things compared to the feeling you got in your chest when you saw that beautiful smile for the first time. It seemed like your entire world had stopped rotating and began to revolve around the single smile that didn’t last for more than three seconds, but it meant more to you than anything else.

After the night, the two of you grew closer, and after enough dinners together, you two started dating. It took you forever to break down all of Sam’s walls, but when you did, it was the most rewarding thing you had ever done. On late nights after she had worked a double, the only thing Sam wanted to do was come home and sleep. But when she pushed open her apartment door and saw you standing awkwardly in the hallway with a goofy grin on your lips and a bottle of wine, all the stress seemed to leave her body, being replaced with the need to be hold you.

You found it impossible to believe that people hated Sam: she was perfect in your eyes. Her soft, caring nature, whenever it was just the two of you, was something you couldn’t find anywhere else. Yes, Sam can be a bitch sometimes, but behind closed doors, she is putty in your hands. How she would sit next to you on the couch, softly tracing patterns on your thigh with her fingers, would make your chest flutter. When you two were in a group, she would always sit next to you- much to Tara’s disapproval, who is someone who doesn’t like sharing her sister- while placing a protective hand on your thigh.

The thoughts that ran around Sam’s mind were that she wished she knew you when she was young; maybe her life would be completely different. Perhaps she wouldn’t have started using drugs or ran away from home, but that’s all it was: what-ifs that might or might not have changed her life. Even though she wished for things to have been different, that she wished she would have met you at a different time, she was still glad that she had you in her life, and she refused to let you go any time soon.

So now, as you sit next to her sister getting ready to get plastered at frat parties for Halloween, Sam couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling of anxiety crawling through her body.

“Yes, Sam, we promise to be safe. We will call you if you need anything,” Tara stated as she stood up from the couch, “Can we go now?”

With a small sigh, Sam closed her eyes and nodded her head. She just knew that allowing you guys to go out tonight would come back to bite her in the ass. “Please don’t drink too much,” Sam pleaded as she followed the group to the door, looking directly at you while she spoke, “I’m talking to you.”

You scoffed at your girlfriend’s accusation, “How dare you insinuate that I, of all people, would drink the most!”

“Because you will,” Mindy mumbled as she looked between you and Sam, unamused, “You always get out of hand when you drink.”

“No, I do not!” You shot back, but you knew arguing would get you nowhere.

Speaking up for the first time, Chad said, “Don’t worry, Sam. I will make sure that Y/N and Tara don’t drink too much; you have my word,” as he wrapped a loving arm around your shoulder.

With a small sigh, Sam nodded in defeat, “Alright, just be safe tonight, okay? No splitting up.” Before Sam could finish her sentence, Tara had shot up from the couch and left for the door. “Come on, you old people, the party’s not going to wait for us,” she exclaimed while opening the door and leaning against the door frame, tapping her foot with urgency.

The twins were quickly behind Tara, and when you went to follow, Sam grabbed your hand, “Hey, wait a minute.” When Sam spoke, the three noticed the way Sam’s dark eyes were pleading with you, so they decided to step out into the hallway to give the two of you some privacy.

“What’s up?” You asked with the softest smile that always made Sam’s knees weak. “Please, Y/N, be safe tonight. If you need anything, call me, okay?” The Latina asked as she gently placed her hands on your triceps, lovingly running her hands up and down.

“You know I will be, and I promise to call you if anything happens,” you replied while leaning forward, placing a soft kiss on top of Sam’s head, “Just think, this is a night to yourself. When was the last time you had that?”

Sam mumbled something underneath a breath that you missed. “I’m sorry, what was that?” You teased with a smile, watching as Sam rolled her eyes. “I said that I only enjoy my nights to myself when you are around,” the older girl admitted through clenched teeth.

“Damn, Sam. You can at least pretend to like me,” you joked with a small laugh.

“You know that I hate to admit these things, but you still make me do it.”

“You’re right! I love hearing my girlfriend give me constant affirmations about how much she loves me; it's the best!” You happily stated with a smile, and Sam laughed at your response.

“Whatever, just be safe tonight,” she said as her eyes looked you up and down, clearing having a distaste for your costume, “whatever the fuck you are.”

Naturally, you scoffed at her words, “I will have you know that I am one of the best historians out there.”

“Yeah, I doubt that,” Sam replied with a smile. It might not seem like much, but these small banters between the two of you were what she loved the most. She could be herself around you, and you would never judge her for it.

In the mood to be a smartass, you straightened your posture and pulled on your coat. You cleared your throat and began doing an impression of a Bolton accent, “It’s hard to believe I’m walking through the ruins of the first-ever city, because I’m not. That’s in Iraq, which is miles away, and fucking dangerous.”

Sam stared at you blankly for several seconds before she shook her head, “You’re a fucking idiot, and I cannot believe you are going as that lady.”

“Excuse me, ‘that lady’ is Philomena Cunk, who is the best damn historian on this planet,” you defended while making your way to the front door, Sam following behind you, “And my costume is certainly the best.”

Sam hummed as she opened the front door, “Yeah because it's so hard to beat,” she quickly looked at the three standing out in the hallway, “a half-assed pirate, a scarecrow, and Jack Skellington.”

“Hey now, I’m a cowboy, not a scarecrow,” Chad replied with a bit of hurt. “She doesn’t care what you are. Now come on, we have a party to go to,” Mindy sat as she threw an arm around Tara the pirate and started walking down the hallway with Chad several paces behind them.

Before you followed them, you quickly kissed Sam’s lips. “I love you,” you mumbled against them, and Sam kissed your words.

“I love you too,” she replied while pulling away. You blew her kiss as you started to catch up with the group, and Sam felt her heart flutter at the small gesture. Words could not even begin to express the love she had in her heart for you, but she hoped that one day she might be able to tell you. She wanted to tell you how her entire being ached for your touch whenever you were away, and she hated watching you leave. But she simply settled for watching you leave with her younger sister, off to have the fun that was promised when you start college.

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Whenever someone tells you that college is supposed to be the time of your life, they are fucking wrong. Hours and hours of studying material that you must teach yourself because your professors are too incompetent to teach it while you still pay them thousands of dollars is not fun. There is nothing ideal about college, and you hated every single second of it, but the part you loved the most was your friends.

Of course, you had friends in high school, but none meant this much to you. You would readily lay down your life for Tara, just as you would the twins. So, that’s why for the first time since the semester started, you finally felt your shoulders loosen and stress leave your body, just for some dipshit in a mask to ruin it.

It all happened quickly, according to Chad. One minute, you were taking shots with Tara, then the next, you were on top of a random guy, beating him to a pulp. It took Chad and Mindy to pry you off the guy, yet you still fought against them, trying your hardest to get your hands on that fucker.

“I’m good, I’m good,” you slurred after Chad carried you out of the frat house, but as soon as he placed you on the floor, you tried to run back into the house. “Hey! Stop it!” He shouted, quickly grabbing you before you could make it up the front porch steps, “Sit down and breathe.” Your head was spinning, and you could barely stand, but you had to get your hands on that fucker.

Grumbling under your breath, you listened to the man and sat down on the grass as Tara came to sit by you. “What happened?” She asked while picking up your dominant hand, lightly tracing her fingers over your bloodied knuckles.

You didn’t want to worry Tara that the piece of shit man was saying false accusations about Sam; you knew it would ruin her night. So, you decided to lie. “He said that the only correct way to eat cereal is to pour the milk first, then the cereal.”

A small laugh came from Tara’s lips as she let go of your hand and pulled out her phone. “You know, I don’t know what’s worse: how crazy you defend cereal or that you nearly killed a man dressed up as Philomena Cunk.”

You chuckled beside her and sat in silence as you watched her call her sister, asking the older Carpenter to come pick you up. You felt bad for not being the one to call Sam, but you knew that if you called her, she would ask what happened, and you couldn’t lie to that sweet and kind woman. Those soft, dark eyes that smiled for her would break if you ever were to lie to her, and you couldn’t put her through that.

So, you sat in silence with the younger Carpenter as Chad and Mindy went back inside the frat house. Once they were out of earshot, Tara spoke up. “I know you lied to me.”

“About what?” You questioned, but you knew what she was talking about. “Tell me why you beat the shit out of that guy,” Tara pressed.

You shook your head and sucked in a deep breath, debating on if you should tell her or not. With a sigh, you down while speaking, “He was saying some shit about Sam, and I lost my cool. I’m sorry that I ruined your night.”

Several beats of silence passed before Tara grabbed your hand and interlaced her fingers with yours. “You know, When you and Sam first started dating, I was skeptical. You’re one of my closest friends, and Sam is my sister. But oh my god, after seeing how she looks at you, I knew that the two of you were meant to be. I’ve never seen Sam look at anyone the way she does with you and the way she smiles around you, Y/N. It's unbelievable; I’ve never seen her smile that much. What I mean to say is that Sam has a hard time with words, but that woman loves you so much. So thank you for defending her name because I know she would do the same thing for you,” Tara admitted with a soft smile, and before you could respond, the both of you saw a tall figure approaching you.

“What the hell happened?” Sam asked with worry laced in her voice as soon as she got close enough to see your hand. She crouched beside you and took your hand out of Tara’s as she lightly traced her fingers over your knuckles, more worried about you than whoever you beat the shit out of.

“Your sweet, little Y/N who would never do any harm went apeshit on someone. It took both twins to pull her off of the poor guy,” Tara said as she stood from the ground and began walking into the house.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Sam questioned while eyeing her sister, who didn’t even look behind her as she shouted, “Back to the party!”

You laughed as you watched the younger Carpenter disappear into the house, “she’s a little shit, isn’t she?” You joked as you looked back at Sam, who glared at you, “What?”

You knew it was terrible, but you couldn’t help but find Sam extremely attractive whenever she was angry; it was probably why you liked to piss her off so much.

The older girl huffed as she stood up, pulling you up with her as well. “Don’t ‘what’ me; you know exactly what I’m mad about,” she said as she grabbed one of your arms and threw it over your shoulder. You just shrugged, not wanting to argue with Sam over the reason for your fight.

“I’m not that drunk, Sam. I can walk by myself,” you declared, but once Sam let go of your arm so you could prove your point, gravity seemed to have a vendetta against you, causing you to begin swaying from side to side.

“Mhm, yeah. Come on,” Sam sighed as she grabbed your arm and threw it over her shoulder again.

Naturally, the entire walk back to the apartment, you complained about Sam not needing to carry you, but you would never admit that you enjoyed seeing this softer side of her.

“So,” Sam asked when you two got away from the frat house, “What happened?”

You shrugged as you continued walking, “The guy was saying false information about how to eat cereal properly. That’s all.”

Now, Sam wasn’t an idiot, and she wasn’t born yesterday. She knew when you were lying, and she knew that you were. In your relationship, Sam always knew that you would be truthful, and her heart began to break at the thought of things changing between the two of you. She knew it was stupid, but she couldn’t help the anxiety at the idea of you no longer being honest with her.

As if you could sense her doubt, you spoke, “Sam, you know that I love you, right?” The Carpenter nodded her head, silently ushering you to continue. “Well, then you know that I would do anything to protect you, anything at all,” you proclaimed as you leaned over and placed a loving kiss on her forehead.

Several beats of silence passed as Sam was thinking about what you said. She knew that whatever happened between you and the dickhead was about the online controversies surrounding her, even though you didn’t say anything about it; she just knew.

A part of Sam felt guilty that you had the feeling of constantly needing to defend her name, which got you in a lot of trouble. But she also loved the idea of having someone who loved and cared for her enough to start fights over her, no matter how petty they were.

So, instead of asking you any more questions, Sam simply said, “I love you too,” and pulled you closer to her.

Falling into a comfortable silence, you walked for several minutes before you stopped dead in your tracks. “What the actual fuck is that?” You asked with a slight hint of venom in your voice.

You had stopped just outside a Barnes & Noble, glaring into the store’s display case. In that case, there was a small cardboard cutout of Gale Weathers, and behind her were copies of her notorious book that worsened Sam’s public image.

“You fucking bitch,” you hissed as you unwrapped Sam’s arm from you and walked up the glass window, pushing on it but getting nowhere. “Y/N, come on. It’s closed, and you’re drunk,” Sam said as she gently grabbed your hand, but you shook it off.

Without saying a word, you walked to the side of the store to pick up a brick. Before Sam could stop you, you threw the brick through the window, causing it to shatter into tiny pieces.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Sam whisper-shouted as she tried to stop you from climbing into the store, but you were surprisingly strong in your intoxicated state. Once you entered the display area, you grabbed a signed copy of Gale’s book and ripped out several of the pages. You then began doing that to the rest of the books you could see, and once you were done, you moved to the cutout.

“You fucking bitch,” you hissed as you pushed the cutout, causing it to fall, “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Fucking fuckass loser.”

Now, she knew it was terrible to be imagining this, but Sam couldn’t find it within herself to stop you from destroying Gale’s books. Truth be told, she wanted to join you, but she felt like you deserved to have this moment to yourself.

“I’ll fuck you up, little bitch,” you stated as you picked up the cutout and put it underneath your arm. “What are you doing?” Sam asked with a small laugh as she watched you carry the cardboard Gale Weathers from the store.

“Taking her home,” you slurred once you stepped onto the street, then you began walking toward Sam’s apartment. “Wrong way, dumbass,” Sam stated once you got halfway down the sidewalk.

Without saying a word, you turned on your heels and walked back to Sam. “Thank you,” you replied while the two of you began walking back in the correct direction, still holding Gale.

“Are you taking her home to kill her?” The Latina asked while looking down at the cutout, struggling to keep a straight face with this unusual situation.

“What kind of fucking animal do you take me for? No, I'm not going to kill her!” You exclaimed, “But I am kidding her.”

The sound of Sam’s laughter caused an eruption of butterflies to flutter throughout your chest. Even though you were drunk and probably wouldn’t remember most of this night, hell, there was a good chance you wouldn’t even remember ‘kidnapping’ Gale Weathers, but you knew you would never forget the sound of your woman’s laughter.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s get you home so you can torture Gale,” Sam joked as she wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into her side.

She didn’t care that you would be on the news tomorrow morning for the destruction of property; she was just glad you were happy while doing it. It wasn’t every day that Sam got to witness you lose your shit, especially on an inanimate object, but she loved seeing this side of you. She wouldn’t change your relationship for anything, no matter what it was. Sam loved you with her body and soul, and she would never give that up.

The only thing she wished was different was that she knew you when she was young. She would stay up most nights wondering how different her life would have been if she had met you when she was 18, a fresh runaway from home. Before she got into all the hard drugs, she still struggled despite being three years sober. But as she listened to you threaten fake Gale while stating how much you loved the woman you were dating, Sam couldn’t be happier with you.

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#sam carpenter #scream #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x fem reader #sam carpenter x female reader #Tara carpenter #melissa barrera #Spotify

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