#mindy from scream

[eldritchwhiterose]

I do very much love mindy❤️❤️

[harundraws]

sam carpenter for world domination

[andsoigotabutterfly]

-Save me from her - chapter 6

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: Madness, feelings and blood.

a/n: I feel like I'm making this a habbit, but sorry for making you wait for this long again. I don't know why, but there isn't much time when I feel motivated enough to write. I'm trying to make a schedule for myself right now to improve on my time management, so maybe that'll help?

warnings: amateur writing, blood, graphic descriptions of murder, awkward conversation, swearing, canon-typical violance, multiple POV's, mixed POV's, insanity, going mad, ANGST

Everything seemed futile. There was no light at the end of the tunnel and even if there would've been (which again; there was none), there was no hope to get there. On knees, which barely even responded to commands anymore. No hope for healing. Yet she crawled onwards.

Why was she crawling again? She didn't know. She couldn't remember... She couldn't remember who she was. And so, the dark was even more welcoming.

“My name is Annabelle!” She reminded herself “I have a family. Ma, Lolly, Da, Nicks. I love them.”

But do they love me?

She... couldn't remember. Why would she? She wanted to forget. She couldn't even remember why she was trying to forget. Yet she did...

“No!” She screamed. What was she screaming into? Did it matter? “My name is Annabelle. I have a family. Ma, Lolly, Da, Nicks. I love them.”

She would crawl. She would try to remember. She would scream.

Crawl so she reaches the light. Try to remember, so she wouldn't lose herself. Scream so she lets the world know of her pain.

But the light just went further away. The memories would fade into oblivion. The world would ignore her. It wasn't fair.

“Yes, it is.” She would hear her own voice. “It fair in every way possible. Ma is dying and here you are, crawling towards something that's unreachable. Towards your own selfish freedom. Is it worth it?”

She would crawl. She would try to remember. She would scream.

As she took in her own words, a new light appeared to her left. It was so beautiful. A blue light, that lit up her hopes.

“We can save Ma.” She heard herself again. “We just need to be quick with it. Or Lolly kills her.”

The thought passed through her mind. As it did, all those red lights that were layed down with the help of Ma all screamed. They screamed of danger. They screamed so she wouldn't cave in. But it was so alluring...

“No!” She said to herself. “My name is Annabelle. Ma, Lolly, Nicks. I love them.” -She would crawl...

“Remember that movie we watched together?” She heard herself again. “The one with the ghostlike killer?” The mask suddenly shot itself into her mind, engraining itself into her. “Ah, so you do! I also remember. I remember sitting in your lap whilst Lolly tried to hide herself in your neck.” The image flashed through her mind just like the mask. “But she has always been easy to scare, hasn't she? “- ...she would try to... to forget...

“She leeched off us and didn't even care about OUR state!” Her voice was raised now, dripping with hatred. “And now” she heard herself scoff “now she's laying limp, helpless and dying and wants to kill Ma so she can live? Is that something you can call fair?” -...she would wail.

No, it's not” she said and turned towards the blue light. It was so much easier to approach it. The only thing she needed to do was ignore the red lights. Had they any meaning anyways?

Finally, we can agree on something! What do you say, should we save her? Should we butcher the doctors who are trying to kill her? Even as she screams, shouts, and begs for mercy! Lolly betrayed us! Why are they trying to save her? It makes no sense! She said we would find a solution together but what does she do instead? She kills Ma and gets on with her life like nothing happened. So, funnily enough, we come back to the same question again; Is. That. Fair.”

“No, it's not... My name is Anna... Ma... Lolly...”

As she got closer and closer to the light, she could stand up again. Walk again. It felt liberating.

“Ma won’t have to scream anymore. Won’t have to shout and beg anymore!”

She would run. She would forget. She would laugh.

“My name... Our name... it doesn’t matter...”

She would cry. She would rip. She would kill.

“Lolly...”

We hate her.

----------------------------

"So let me get this straight; you believe a doll will stop her?" Mindy's voice was filled with doubt. Rightfully so, Tara thought. It was a ridiculous statement. Yet when she saw your face and the utter sincerity it displayed, her doubts and worries faded. You looked cute. And beautiful. "I mean, you have to admit, it's a pretty wild claim..."

After finally convincing you to lay back a little and rest more, Tara and you were cuddled up to each other on your bed whilst the others somewhat shifted in their positions. Anika was sitting in Mindy’s lap on one of the two chairs inside the room, whilst Chad occupied the other. Sam was still standing in the corner, watchful and aware like a guardsman on duty.

 "Did I stutter?" you asked, on a voice far more raised than it needed to be. Everybody was looking at you, except for Anika, who was shaking her head, the smallest of smiles appearing on her face. The same one you also had. That small smile made butterflies erupt in her stomach. God, the things she would do to keep in there for the rest of your lives.

 You awkwardly cleared your throat and continued little more shyly. "Yes, I believe it will stop her. Or at least make her pause. That's all we need. A little stumble, brake in her assault. At the police station she was brutal, relentless, and precise. Even the least amount of time could help us. Also, you haven't seen how obsessed she was with that doll. Even before..." your trailed off, as you searched for the right words.

 "Before going mental" Chad finished for you. The second he saw the hurt on your face, regret washed over his. "Sorry" he mumbled.

 "Ma always said that Dolly was a bad influence on her, but whenever we wanted clarification, she only waved it off." Anika took over. "Only later would Da tell us that she got it from her childhood best friend, Dolores, seconds before getting run over by a bus."

 At their pained reaction you said. "Yeah, we had the same reaction. Anna started thinking about the doll as the friend that passed, even if only subconsciously. Hence, Dolly. Later, any time Anna would do something bad, she blamed it on Dolly, that she was the one that convinced her to do it. Sometimes it would even be entertaining. I mean, the ridiculous statement that her doll could convince her of something." you scoffed. "Well, at least back then it was."

 "So, she lost both her best friend and her mom" Chad cut in. "No wonders she went crazy."

 "You think she still believes her doll to be her friend?" Sam asked doubtfully. Why was everybody doubting you, Tara wondered. It's not like you were saying the craziest... Okay, yes you were.

"Back in the asylum she wouldn't talk to anyone, just Dolly. The doctors said whenever they took it away from her, she would just stare at a wall, sometimes even hitting her head against it until they gave it back to her."

"That's fucked up man..." Chad said softly.

"Yes, it was" Anika said matter-of-factly. "Y/N went there every week for two years until the place burned down. They tried every treatment, yet she showed no sign of getting any better. So, I believe Y/N is right; Dolly might give us a fighting chance."

"And where is Dolly exactly?"

"At Da's old place. We stashed it there, with a couple more old gadgets."

At Sam's nod, the conversation quickly changed subject. After a time, the familiar calming buzz of the Meeks' arguing, and Anika's and Sam's voice set in. Tara leant more into you in the hospital bed, still being careful not to hurt you in any way. You rested your head against hers, whilst silently enjoying each-other's company, numbly listening to whatever the group was talking about. You put your hand around her and pulled her even closer. Your scent encompassed her and made her feel at peace. You felt like home.

"You know I always wanted to piece that quote perfectly into a conversation" you said quietly, so no one else would hear you but her.

"What quote?" she asked back just as softly.

"The Office one."

"Well, if you were going for perfect, you need to do better than that" she laughed.

"C'mon. It wasn't that bad, was it?"

"It was."

You mumbled something inaudible, probably cursing her entire bloodline for all she knew, but pulled Tara even closer to you and hid your face in the crook of her neck. She gently took your hands and intertwined her fingers with yours. She thought back to your first kiss. Then the one in the car. It filled her chest with warmth. Almost as if she could still feel your lips against hers. Maybe if she bent back enough, she could... wait. The car kisses. The audacity! She looked around for something suitable, then she took the pillow you weren't using, and threw it at Mindy with full force. As it landed with a satisfying thud, she smiled to herself.

"Who was th-" Mindy started but cut herself short when she saw the look on Tara's face. "What was that for?!" she all but shrieked.

At the sudden movement and raised voice, Tara could feel you look up to the others.

"That, you traitor, was for telling Anika what I shared with you over our first coffee at Timmy's!"

"What are you-. Oh!" Mindy's eyes widened even more, as another 'oh' left her mouth, her eyes darting between you, Tara, and Anika. Tara could almost hear the cogs turning in her brain, as she was trying to connect the dots. After some very awkward silence in the room, Mindy threw her a wide, cocky, toothy grin. "You're welcome."

"Tars, it still wasn't her faul-" you started, but got shut up by one of her pointed looks. "Okay, it was -partly- hers, but come on! You can't expect her to keep something that valuable fro-" you gulped at her stare. "Okay, I guess you can."

Anika and Mindy giggled but shut up the moment you threw them a hateful look.

"What are you guys talking about?" Chad asked.

"Just the fact that Mindy told me that Tara told her that she had a little-wittle crush on Y/N."

"I did not" Tara huffed silently.

"Oh, so you let anyone take you in their arms and kiss you then?" you asked her, just as quietly, so no one could hear you. She rolled her eyes but rested her head against yours again.

"Wait, Mindy you cheated!?" Chad revolted.

"Chea-, what are you talking about?" you asked.

"Oh, darling they betted when we would get together."

"They did what?!" Oh, you looked adorable when angry, Tara decided. She pressed a small kiss to the top of your head, which clearly caught you off-guard, an immediate blush forming on your cheeks, that you desperately were trying to conceal. Unsuccessfully, of course.

"Oh, you made the payments already?" Anika joined in.

Chaos unraveled in the room, as the Meeks' started shouting again, and Anika tried to collect her rewards. Tara laughed as your eyes widened when you saw how much money traded hands. But then you smiled, proudly at Anika. After Tara did a short count, she also felt impressed by your sister. She was undoubtedly the winner of this bet. "I teached her well" you whispered to Tara, which she could only laugh at.

-----------------

You couldn’t really focus on the conversation that was going on inside the room. You knew Tara felt your brain cogs turning, yet there was nothing you could do about it. Your thoughts just kept on relaying towards what you felt like an executioner’s axe hanging over your head, Anna. You still couldn’t quite believe she was back. It shouldn’t have been possible. You saw her burnt body with your own eyes. Just like her body had, the sight burnt itself into your brain, and was now showing itself.

Yet every single clue you could think of when it came to Ghostface pointed in her direction. The way she only targeted you at your apartment. The note on the homeless guy’s dead body. Her familiarity with you at the station. Her voice. You’d swear you could hear her voice underneath that damned modulator. And if it was indeed really her, then you were doomed. You weren’t ready to face her. Not after not giving up on her for two whole years, even after her first attack. Not after you cared for her every time you were at the asylum. Not after burying her.

You couldn’t shake off the thought that she could heal back when she was being watched, never giving up even for a second. You couldn’t shake of the hope that started growing inside you now. Thinking how she would ruffle your hair again after something you said, how she would hug you again when you were hurt. Thinking and remembering all the times she would whisper soothing words after one of the many injuries you had gotten, or when you got into a serious fight with your best friend. Even though she was just three years older than you, she still never acted like it. No. She always acted like the big sister, who had to protect you, who had to show you the things she had learnt before you.

Oh, how fun it was when she taught you something.

“Lolly!” her voice was filled with excitement as she barged into your room. “Look!”

She was holding some kind of dark rock in her hand. It looked funny. The light danced on it as if it were some kind of crystal. Maybe it was! Was this a gift?

“No” she chided you, as you stretched your tiny hands towards her to grab it. “It’s messy. When you touch it, it turns you black as well. See my hand? It’s black because of it. Da called it ‘coal’ and said it is used to make fires. But you can draw with it as well! Come, let me show you what I drew!”

You couldn’t even tell when you teared up. Has it been hours or seconds? You didn’t know and couldn’t really care. The more you replayed memories in your mind, the more possible it became to have her back. But why were you crying then?

Because she would never be back.

It didn’t matter how much you loved her; she was gone. Either dead, or so broken she couldn’t remember her own real feelings. You didn’t know which was worse.

And so, hope has let you down again, bringing only sadness in its wake.

“We should probably get going” you said quickly before bursting out in tears in front of all your friends, trying your best to keep a straight voice. After realizing that might have already happened, you wiped the small salty water trails of your face. “The sooner we get Dolly, the better.”

“Are you sure you’re ready to leave?” Tara asked. She sounded so soft, careful. It broke your heart even more.

“You need to rest more Kay” Anika said just as softly. Why are they treating you like this? “Me and the Meeks’ can grab her and be back-”

“What I need, is to get out of here” you interrupted her as you slowly crawled out of Tara’s arms. Somehow you managed to stand up without groaning. Progress. That’s what I like.

You shoved that thought away.

“Now let’s call the doctor and ask them for my things” you said as you quickly composed yourself. “I know I look lavishing in white robes, but I don’t think its street appropriate.”

--------------

The doctors, of course, wouldn’t let you go. Your insistence on you already being better did nothing to sway them. Fucking brats. They wouldn’t even give you back your clothes. Might as well let them keep it. They were all bloody anyway. You didn’t need them.

Mindy, Anika, and Chad left not long after Tara finally convinced you to go back to bed. It took a long time of planning and talking of what exact route they will be taking before you caved in. They promised they’ll be back in at least three hours. You still didn’t like how this was turning out. You felt helpless and as if you were and inconvenience. You probably are. For Sam’s insistence, Anika called Vasco and asked for some more men before leaving, and he said he’ll ask Bailey. They never arrived. He’s in on it too.

Sam kept pacing around the room like there was no tomorrow. Tara felt tense too under your arms. You couldn’t help but feel anxious as well. Who wouldn’t? Anna was loose, reinforcements haven’t arrived and the group split. Nothing was ideal. Everything was in fact, wrong. This last day shook your world completely and it could and would not feel real.

As time passed, so did the Carpenters nerve settle. Tara felt more at ease, leaning into you. Her smell was very distracting, which you were grateful for. You needed something that could anchor to the real world, and she was just that. You looked down at her, the dim light of the room dancing on her face. She is perfect.

You must have stared for a long time now as she spoke up.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

You couldn’t help but smile and look away sheepishly. “Sorry” you croaked quietly.

“No, no, it’s okay” she said quickly, smiling at your reaction. “I like it when you look at me.”

“I’m going to give you two the room” Sam stated, breaking both of you out of the little conversation for a few seconds until she left the room. At Tara’s worried look, she added “Don’t worry, I’m just gonna be outside the door.” With that she was gone. Good.

You awkwardly cleared your throat. “So, you like me looking at you?”

She scoffed and tried to hide her blush, realizing she won’t ever live this down. “Don’t flatter yourself, dork.”

“Well, I like looking at you. You are beautiful Tars.”

You could see her getting ten shades of red darker than she already was. If you blushed too, you would never notice. All your senses were filled by her. Her smile was blinding, her rapid heartbeat deafening. Her scent filled your nostrils, and a second later you felt her lips against yours as well, so you could taste her. In that moment nothing else mattered. Just her tender touch, her feel as she slowly started to move against you, her hand caressing your face. Heaven didn’t feel enough to describe where you felt at that moment. You could swear you would never need anything else, but her.

You never made any relationship you were in last because of the fear of vulnerability. You were too afraid to open up, as if anyone got that close to you, they could ruin you and there would be nothing you could do about it. Nothing to save you from annihilation. Falling was scary. Scarier than most experiences that you ever had.

Yet now, you knew it was okay to fall. It was okay because she was there to catch you. Here with her body pressing against yours, you weren’t afraid to crumble if she was the one who crashed you. There would be noone to save you from her. And it was more than acceptable.

You trust too easily.

As you came up for air, you looked deep in her eyes, and that thought faded like breath in the air on a cold day. Her shiny brown eyes radiated with love and care. Her hair was a bit messy, but she has never looked more beautiful than at that moment, in your arms.

“I thought you were beautiful since I lay eyes on you Tars” you breathed out shakily.

“You really think so?”

“Yes” you answered without hesitation.

She shifted a little, her hands awkwardly rubbing each other. You squinted your eyes in confusion before noticing what was really going on; she was rubbing the scar on her left hand. You smiled at her and gently took her hands in yours, stopping her motions.

“Nothing is going to change that Tars” you said softly and raised her left hand to kiss it. “Not this, not anything.”

She simply nodded at that, leaning into you. You could only hope she understood how you saw her, because you knew how conscious she was about her scars. Mindy told you she had more, but nobody ever spoke about it. You still couldn’t wrap your head around how someone who is supposed to be an other’s partner can do something like this.

You suppressed the anger that was building up inside you at the thought. You had the girl of your dreams in your arms. You couldn’t allow yourself to be angry.

You just sat in the bed in quiet for some time. The calming presence of each other was welcomed by both of you.

After a while Tara carefully moved off you and went to the night table, starting to swipe through her phone.

“What is it?” you asked.

“Mindy and the others should be back by now.”

Your heart clenched in instant, and you looked at the time on your phone. They should have arrived ten minutes ago, yet you couldn’t hear their voice from outside, and they hadn’t texted any-.

A gunshot soared through the air, followed by shouting and screaming from outside the room.

Tara and you looked at each other, horrified and ran to the door. When you tore it open you knew wherever Anika and the others were, they would either come too late, or never make it. Ghostface was standing over two of the four officers’ bodies that were here to protect you, their throats cut open. They were gasping desperately for air, with the only result of ultimately inhaling their own blood. Sam was facing you, right next to the door. She was probably on her way to warn you both. She was bleeding from a deep wound in her shoulder, holding some white and red stripes of clothing in her hand.

Time seemed to freeze as light dawned on you. Ghostface’s mask had been damaged. Two small pieces of it were missing, revealing not much of her face. But that was all enough for you. You could see her dark green eyes. You could see her grin. Nobody else had that grin and she only had it when she was having the time of her life.

Annabelle charged towards you.

[corvid-ghost]

Bro the entire scream franchise is fruity as hell

[samcscreams]

Scream VII idea

Open with Sidney Prescott’s babysitter getting killed. However, Sidney is well prepared for this moment. Before Ghostface can get the jump on her and her family. She shows up and flat out kills Ghostface. Sidney gives us the slash to title card sequence. 

Cut to a happy Core Four they're doing well for as well as they can. The phone rings its Sidney looping them in on her nights events. 

Phone call gets cut off. Ghostface takes over. The core four are attacked but Sam is able to get everyone out as an act of self sacrifice she locks herself in with this Ghostface. Its gonna be either her or him and either way this nightmare will end. But here’s the catch, Ghostface doesn’t attack her. No, he escapes out the window leaving Sam shocked and confused as she now has to explain he didn’t attack her. 

This causes suspicion to be cast on Sam causing tension between everyone. Until Tara gets a call. 

Ghostface recall’s her original call and how Tara’a the key. She has to die for all to be right.  For the cycle to end Tara must die. Again core four plus Kirby are attacked. But this time they're two Ghostface’s one of them knocks Sam out but leaves her untouched and someone dies trying to protect Tara. I feeling like Chad would be the best option here as he would be the person to step in-between Ghostface and Tara. After this attack they all realize that Tara seems to be Ghostface’s main objective. 

Tara now want to give herself up as Sam wanted to do in VI. However, this idea is causing Sam to fray at the seams. She doesn’t trust herself in a world without Tara. She can’t live without Tara. Sam shuts Tara down in a dark and demanding voice. Tara recognizes the fear within her sister and backs down. They need a plan so they all hold up together. 

The next call is again to Tara but Sam takes the phone and starts questioning Ghostface. They start to reveal more about how Tara’s the key for Sam to take up her birth right. But before they can reveal any more, three Ghostface’s attack. Sam’s been more on edge with everything going on so she’s much more prepared, more unhinged, and kills one of them and gravely injure another. Sam’s also been taking Tara to self defense classes so she holds her own with Kirby. However, Kirby is injured and had to go to the hospital. 

They can’t help but to think this has to be over. Out of the four masked murders two have been killed and one injured to the point they might as well be dead. But of course it can never be over. 

Tara drawn out and kidnapped. Thus forcing Sam to venture out of her own. Regardless of what she knows is right (to call back up or get help) She takes off on a war path to get Tara back. She’s out for blood.   

Act three starts with Sam entering a building and being jumped by Ghostface. She’s deep into her rage at this point and easily kills this one. Only to take the mask off and realize she has no clue who this person is. Then we jump to the reveal that it’s not a person who’s after them. It’s the cult of Ghostface. They tell Sam that she’s the only true Ghostface and they have been pushing her to except that. They want her to snap and they will die trying as its an honor for them to die by her hands. So it truly doesn’t matter who’s under the mask as they won’t be taking it off. They are Ghostface and everything it represents. They are Billy, Stu, Mickey, Nancy, Roman, Jill, Charlie, Amber, Richie, Wayne, Ethan, and Quinn. The final Ghostface is just Ghostface. 

They reveal that Tara must die for Sam to snap. That Richie and Amber failed because their opening kill survived and if they had just finished the job Sam would be leading them. They’ve been waiting for Sam to snap for her to take the mantle of Ghostface, to be the one to kill Sidney Prescott, to end the cycle. To finish the movie.

Skip to them revealing they also have Sidney kidnaped as well as Kirby, Mindy and Gale. 

All survivors together under one roof surround by a plethora of Ghostfaces. 

They give Sam a choice to either finish her fathers work and kill Sidney or to watch her sister die. 

Sam would burn the world to keep Tara alive. They know this so she puts on the mask. She cracks. Gives a beautiful villain monologue (respectively taking the place of a regular killer reveal) 

But of corse it’s all an act. Sam unties Sidney. Working together. One Prescott one Loomis. To heal the cycle. Not finish it. They all work together in an epic blood bath. Effectively killing the ghost faces. Some will die and be injured not sure who. But it will be all vs all since there are no rules in a finally. 

In the end Sam fully embraces who she is. Even with being pushed to take on the mantle with her sisters life on the line she stayed true. She isn’t her father but sometimes she can be to keep them all safe  and she’s okay with that. 

They all finally get to walk off into he sunset. For now until some executive somewhere goes lets reboot Scream again. 

The End. or not Idk.

[stephstars08]

How is just next month it will be a whole year since Scream VI came out in theaters! Like how?? I wish I could watch that movie for the first time again!!!

[krikeymate]

For @bossnhug91, who requested some Core 4 + Kirby. Found here.

“Why don’t you take your words and shove them up your-”

“WOAH, Tara no!” Sam yells, grabbing her sister by the shoulders and pulling her back frantically from the now sopping-wet man she was yelling at.

“I’m so sorry about our friend here, she’s a little drunk,” Chad blurts out, hands raised placatingly. “We don’t want any trouble,” he says with a nervous laugh. Chad knows he’s pretty big and strong, but not as much as this guy… and his friends. 

Maybe taking Tara drinking for her 21st was a bad idea. Ya think, dingus! the Mindy in his head chimes in. He’s a little glad she’s not here yet, lord knows his sister doesn’t know how to stay out of trouble… and neither do the other sisters in his life, apparently.

Chad backs away, squeezing himself through some other patrons - sorry, coming through - and turns to find the girls, who have… disappeared. And left him alone, again. Why does this keep happening to him?

Sam drags her sister to the bathroom, elbowing drunk white girls out of the way without remorse. She all but shoves her face into the sink with the intention to splash water on her face and sober her up a bit.

Tara doesn’t get the message and yanks herself away, tripping as she turns and throwing herself to the floor along the way.

“Tara,” Sam sighs wearily. Maybe those last shots were a mistake. Maybe letting her drink in the first place was a mistake, but it’s what Tara had wanted, and if she’s learnt anything over the past 14.5 months since she’s come back into her life, Tara’s going to do what Tara wants to do. She was the same as a child, although she wasn’t anywhere near as stubborn, back when Sam used to hang the moon and Tara blindly worshipped every word she said.

The real mistake was letting Mindy talk them into going out to celebrate, instead of staying home. And Mindy isn’t even here to deal with the consequences of her terrible decision. Where is she anyway?

Sam’s head snaps down as Tara groans on the floor. It’s the type of groan that happens moments before disaster; it has Sam grabbing her sister under the arms and heaving her off the floor and into a toilet stall in a flash.

And just in time.

It’s times like these that Sam doesn’t miss drinking. It’s also times like these where she kind of wishes she was.

She pats her sister on the back with one hand, and draws her hair away from her face with the other. She wishes Tara wouldn’t do this to herself, but she’ll admit, only to herself, that she’s so grateful that she’s been given the opportunity to do this for her. To be the type of sister that Tara can trust to keep her safe, that she can rely on. That she’s a good enough sister that Tara feels the need to defend her honour when some douchebags at the pool table start loudly talking about the psycho girl drinking soda at the bar.

She’s definitely mad that Tara’s drunk enough to pick a fight with a guy three times her size and with a gang behind him though. Then again, maybe Tara doesn’t need to be drunk to do that actually. Her sister does like to fight, she’s noticed. It used to be just Sam. Now it seems to be everyone but Sam.

Maybe she should leave a message for Tara’s therapist.

“Why’d yuh’stop me,” Tara mumbles from the porcelain. “I coulda had’im.”

The words make Sam snort. Her sister has always known how to make her laugh. “Sure you could have, baby. He’d have been real threatened by you throwing up on his shoes.”

“He’d deserve it,” she mumbles, leaning back. “Nobody talks ‘bout you like that.”

Sam helps her up off the floor, keeping hold of her arms to steady her. “I’d kill anyone who says anything ‘bout you,” Tara continues.

The words make Sam wince. “That’s a little overkill for some gossip, don’t you think?” she murmurs, leading her back out into the bar area to find Chad. It’s time to call it a night, she thinks. “We can’t control what people think or say about us, but we can control how we react to them,” she recites to her sister. It’s a mantra her own therapist has her repeating whenever something like this happens.

Her eyes catch Chad’s from across the room as Tara mumbles something about Mindy, and Kirby, and how they should be here to join in the fun, and then there’s an unfortunately recognisable form standing in front of her.

“Hey, YOU!” the wet man calls out, blocking their way. “That little bitch owes me and the lads some new beers,” he growls, posturing. It’s fairly effective, Sam’s actually intimidated, all too aware of Tara hanging off her arm and barely able to stand on her own.

“We’ll buy you a new round,” she says, smiling civilly. She doesn’t want a scene, well - another one, not right now. Why had Tara felt the need to flip the tray out of his hands? Why had she felt the need to confront him in the first place? Well, what are big sister’s for, if not fixing the problems their little sister’s make.

Of course, when has anything ever gone her way?

He should have said “great, that’s all I wanted, lead the way.” Instead what he actually says is “Or maybe she can make it up to me another way,” with a lewd grin on his face and a finger poking her in the shoulder. And what was Sam to do, take that lying down? 

Chad had thankfully made his way back over - why had he left in the first place, wasn’t he right behind them before? - just in time for her to shove Tara into his arms and take a swing at the bastard who thinks he can say whatever he likes about her sister.

It gets a little chaotic after that.

She thinks she remembers Chad taking an elbow to the face. Tara was on someone’s back. Sam’s pretty sure she took a bottle to the head, if the way it thumps with every heartbeat is any indication.

Being held face down against a pool table with her arms pulled harshly behind her and her wrists tightly bound in handcuffs isn’t a new experience for Sam, but having her sister beside her in the same position, hurling expletives at the police officers holding them down, certainly is.

“Hey! Be careful, she’s injured, jackass,” Sam spits. 

“Quiet you,” the officer snaps, lifting her up before slamming her back down.

It makes Sam’s head spin. She can hear Chad in the background, protesting. Then she hears the voice of an angel say “is this how you treat all woman who try to defend themselves, Officer Sawyer?”

Kirby “please stop getting into trouble Sam, you’re making my life very hard” Reed is here to save the day once again. Hopefully. Probably. Definitely. Sam’s working on having faith in people.

Sam meets her sister’s eyes across the table while Kirby argues with the officer holding her down. The grin Tara shoots her should not be as endearing as it is, given the circumstances.

Before long, they’re being begrudgingly released into Kirby’s custody and ushered out of the bar. Sam can’t resist looking back, and finds Officer Sawyer glaring at her with his arms crossed. Oh good, another enemy to watch out for.

She gets distracted by Chad’s arm wrapping around her shoulder and the cheery “well that was fun,” he chirps out.

Kirby spins in an instant and gets in their faces, well, as much as she’s able given how short she is. She’s about as intimidating as Tara. “It was not fun. You started a bar fight! You got injured! What is wrong with you people? Can’t you stay out of trouble for five minutes?!”

Tara giggles into Sam’s side, swinging their hands together. “You said five,” she mumbles.

The words throw Kirby for a loop and her anger quickly fades into bafflement and concern. “Is she okay? Did she hit her head?”

“She’s just drunk,” Sam explains, wrapping her arms around her sister. The girl squeezes her back, humming into her chest.

Kirby frowns up at her. “Should she really be drinking?”

Sam’s saved from another opportunity to start a fight by Mindy’s arrival. 

“Oh man,” she huffs, out of breathe and bending down to rest her hands on her knees. “I’m so sorry I’m late, there was this dumb fire drill at the dorms and we couldn’t leave and woah, what… happened here.”

“Bar fight. Tara’s fault,” Chad replies.

“It was not Tara’s fault,” Sam barks, glaring at him.

Chad grins back at her, “it definitely was.”

Mindy pouts. “Awh man, I can’t believe I missed it.”

Kirby rolls her eyes. “We’re leaving, all of you, come on.”

[katebshope]

Scream VI or Stab 7?

my 1rst digital art

[tarastabz]

About that apartment chase scene, i often think that sam has mixed feelings about chad just dragging tara with him.

I mean- of course, she's happy that tara wasn't at anika's place, she's happy she managed to not get injured and not witness another friend getting brutally killed right in front of her eyes.

But still...

That's HER sister, tara would've been safe with sam because she wouldn't have let anything happen to her... not again. If things went differently, would chad have been able to protect tara? All alone? Would he just leave her there like he did with mindy, anika and sam?

Sam trusts him, of course. She's known him since he was just a small kid, and he has always been very protective and caring with tara. He would never intentionally hurt her or let someone else do that. But still, sam doesn't really trust anybody with tara.

Not christina, not mindy, not chad and not even Gale.

[lionydoorin]

Would she not be reminded of hitting amber with the crutches when she hits her friends with a cane?

I love the idea that she hits her friends with a cane tho. Im just curious to see your thoughts on this

anon. i was playing valorant when i got this ask and when i tell you i gasped and prayed the gods above or whatever that the other team surrendered so i could talk about this. (i won so yippeee i'm here now.)

okay. so.

they'd been having lots of good days for the past few weeks.

therapy was working. their medications were working. none of them had been having nightmares these past few nights. group hangouts and movie nights were filled with nothing but smiles and laughs, this carefree atmosphere that had finally settled since the baileys attacked. they were fine. for the most part.

that is, as far as the group was aware.

sometimes, of course, they all had their bad days, and tara was no exception. she promised sam she'd try again, give her therapist another go, that she'd do her hand and leg exercises and use her cane to walk to school every day and that she'd take her medication correctly and drink water and sleep and-

it was all just too much.

she couldn't tell them, though. not when they were having a good streak, not when they're finally enjoying the thought of being alive again.

she wishes she felt that way, too.

the worst part is that this day collided with one of their movie nights - at any other day, tara could just tell sam she was tired from her classes and that she was sleeping in earlier, lock herself in her room, and cry until her eyes grow tired. but she had to sit there, pretend everything was fine, put on her best smile and talk when she was required to.

and don't get her wrong: she loves her friends. loves the family they've become. but sometimes they remind her of the things she's lost, of what they've been through, and she's still not at peace with everything.

so tara's awfully quiet for the night. she still smiles, she still replies when someone asks her something, still gives her opinion on what they could get for dinner and what movie they should watch.

they were all sitting in a circle, telling each other childhood stories and catching up on things they maybe didn't know about each other's lives. sam told kirby about how funny it was to babysit the siblings, mindy told them about this one time chad pissed himself while they watched child's play when they were eight. kirby told them one of her embarrassing college hookup stories.

so it wouldn't be a problem to talk about tara's disastrous tree #2 performance for the middle school spring musical, right?

she got up as soon as mindy started the story. sam was immediately nodding and chad was already holding his laughter when he noticed what tara was about to do. and tara is smiling, because it was fine, but she was still mortified and she had to keep the pun going.

she always hit them. it was funny. they all laughed. she was okay.

but when she's above mindy, raising her cane, her vision flashes and suddenly she sees raven hair and a dark robe, hands protectively over her face as amber grunts from the hit.

tara screams, dropping the cane to her side as she backs up and falls to the ground, breathing heavily and crawling backwarsd in fear. everyone's eyes are immediately on her, and sam rushes to her side immediately, a hand on her shoulder. her voice seems distant, an echo in the back of her mind.

her leg hurts more than usual. her hands shake, shoulders going up and down as she struggles to steady her breath. tears falling freely.

mindy seems scared, their hands no longer above their head as they crawl towards tara's direction, immediately asking a hundred questions about how she's feeling.

amber is standing behind them, disfigured as always, chuckling. she raises a hand to shake her index finger from side to side.

[feelin-frazzled]

scream 6 would've been better if mindy had died + if her death had directly paralleled randy's sorry

[dreaming-for-an-escape]

So something must have happened in the subway because Sam and Tara have on the exact same outfits when they run into the store asking for help.

So was Mindy really attacked? Or was that a hallucination and the real attack happen when they got off the subway? 😳

[woewriting]

sinbound (g!p)

pairing: tara carpenter | reader word count: 5358 warnings: mdni, +18 only! no ghostface au, reader has a dick, cheating, adultery, voyeurism, semi public sex, shower sex, breeding, exhibitionism, and if you squint really hard there's a bit of size kink... tara's a sinner and so are you. a/n: i cant believe i finally finished this one, a huge thanks to @alkivm and @wesstars for helping me out, this one is for you two.

masterlist

You never really thought of Tara as more than just a good friend, you really didn’t, but the moment you witnessed her being ruined by her boyfriend’s dick, mascara running down her cheeks, lipstick smudged all around her plump lips, and the way she smiled at you with half open lids, your mind became clouded with Tara.

Her moans, so soft and whiny.

Her hands grabbing her boyfriend’s arms, short nails digging into the muscle and tracing red marks on the tanned skin.

Her smile, so different from the ones she always greets you with when you meet for breakfast before classes. This one was small, almost like a smirk that turned into perfectly ‘o’ shaped when he bit her neck, covering her petite body with his big one.

You couldn't move, petrified with the scene rolling in front of your eyes. You watched as her nails scratched the skin of his back, pulling him impossibly closer, holding him in place so he wouldn’t see you standing there, blatantly watching them fuck. The sounds she was making wouldn’t leave your mind, the image of Tara being fucked raw while staring at you engraved in every single muscle memory of your brain.

And it did.

You stood there for what it felt like hours, watching with focused eyes the heart-giving performance Tara was putting on for you until she came, teeth sinking in the others’ shoulder to suffocate the scream that would tear her throat in pieces.

That’s when you left, your face burning red and an uncomfortable ache between your legs that you wished would disappear, twitching inside your boxers and begging for release.

With a quick wave of your hand towards your friend’s group, you left the frat house, jumping over drunken bodies sprawled in the front yard and walking back to your dorm only a few blocks away. You could still hear the loud electronic music and you smelled like alcohol mixed with different perfumes from every person that hugged you during the night.

Kicking your shoes before stepping inside — following your roommate’s number one rule, you leaned against the closed door, the image of Tara burned into your brain like a tattoo, the soft sounds she was making playing in your head like a broken record that was slowly driving you crazy, a tight knot in your stomach that made your heart beat faster.

Your hand automatically covering the volume in your pants, squeezing your length as you tried to easy down. Deep down, you wanted to open up your pants and pull your cock out, watching the way it twitched with the vivid image of Tara on her knees, sucking you off; or with her legs wrapped around your waist as you fucked her against the door frame, fast and rude, like Chad was doing it. But you couldn’t, you felt dirty already for not turning around and drinking every single solo cup, with a colorful, sparkly drink and dubious alcohol, offered to you by Mindy or Amber to erase what you had witnessed, but no, you froze in place.

With one last hard squeeze, you took a deep breath, deciding to take a cold shower to force yourself to calm down, even if the knot in your stomach was painful, like a little red devil on your shoulder, whispering lustful things into your ear like it’s the most beautiful melody that was hard to ignore. For a split of seconds, you almost listened to him, unbuttoning your pants and pulling the zipper down, removing enough pressure of you, but your phone ranged in your back pocket.

Shaking your head, you took the hardest path, the one that led you to the bathroom. Picking up your phone, Sam’s name blinking on the screen with a picture of you and her together, you gulped, declining the call and deciding to text her instead with the excuse of a migraine that was making you dizzy.

As the water hit your head and your shoulder, your muscles tensed up and you stop breathing, every single body hair standing on end with goosebumps, your member still hard against your belly. You sighed, closing your eyes to focus on the cold water that ran over your body so you could sleep and forget whatever the hell this day was.

It didn’t work, your eye bags the next morning was reason enough for your roommate to ask what happened that kept you up all night.

──

To be honest, you didn’t want to be here, sitting in your usual table waiting for them to show up, ignoring a completely enthusiastic Amber. You wanted to be under your blankets, with doors locked, phone on airplane mode and away and safe from the girl that took over your thoughts over the weekend. It’s been two days since the little “incident” at the party, you ignored every single message in the group chat claiming you “needed to study for finals”, which wasn’t a full lie but you really did not need to spend your entire weekend locked in your dorm.

“Yo, dumbass,” you blinked when a blurry hand stepped in your vision, followed by Amber’s furred eyebrows. “you’ve been weird since Friday, what’s wrong with you?”

Before you could answer, the little bell above the door rang, your eyes automatically linking with the brown ones you saw roll to the back of her head when she came all over her boyfriend. Tara was under Chad’s arm, smiling at something the taller boy said as they walked into the small cafe, coming in your direction.

You wanted to flee, leaving all your belongings back and rush to classes, but the table in front of you and the two girls, Amber and Sam, sitting on each side of you, made that wish a little bit impossible to come true, and if you tried, it would draw too much attention to yourself and that was the least thing you wanted at the moment.

You’d have to endure the torture you had set inside your own brain.

Tara was a really good actress, you thought to yourself, as the minutes went by, she, somehow, manage to keep the same image as always, the perfect girlfriend/sister/friend that is constantly smiling and pays attention to everyone and everything that surrounded her.

While you, on the other side, kept your eyes focused on the drawing that swam in your coffee mug until it slowly melted away, not paying much attention to the conversation. You made a disgusted face when you realized it turned cold under your fingertips.

“Want me to get you a new one?”

“Uh?”

Tara smiled, oh so sweet as always, placing her hand on top of yours, her thumb caressing the skin, ready to take your mug and order a new one for you. “I asked if you want me to order you a new coffee? I know you don’t like cold coffee in the morning.”

“No, uh…” You avoided her soft eyes, removing your hand and starting to pack your things to leave. “Actually, I have to go to, it’s uh… I have to take some notes before class. Can you move a little, Amber? Thank you.”

Without looking at them and feeling your heartbeat on your throat, stumbling a few times on a confused Freeman as you passed in front of her, you left your group of friends behind, ignoring the way Sam was saying your name as you walked out of the small cafe.

Once your feet hit the soft grass in front of the university, you exhaled the air that was stuck inside your lungs all the way here. Leaning forward, you took a deep breath, feeling the burning spread through your veins like poison.

“Are you okay?” A familiar voice came behind you. Sam’s hand on the lower of your back.

“Yeah, I am,” You turned to her. “I just have too much on my head right now.”

The older Carpenter analyzed you, her dark eyes roaming around your features like she always did, looking for any sign of lie.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, clenching your hands around the strap of the bag over your shoulder. “I’ll feel better after the finals, don’t worry, Sammy.”

The nickname earned you a soft smile, followed by a protective arm wrapped around your shoulders, leading you to the main building where your first class took place. Sam made sure to walk with you until you were both standing in front of the opened door, the classroom still empty when you two arrived.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

You nodded; eyes focused on her hands holding yours. You wanted to tell everything you saw at the party, but how would you say you saw her little sister, and your best friend, getting fucked and were starting to question how you felt about your friendship with Tara? That you feel an ache in between your legs every time you share the same space with her? It would be like throwing a bucket of cold water on her, and then the bucket itself… instead, you just smiled.

After Sam gave you a forehead kiss, she left you, walking to the other side of the campus for classes; you watched her from afar through the big window next to where you usual sat since first day, a high chair, not too far from the teacher but away enough from the troublemakers that enjoyed chatting during lessons, disturbing those who were interested in actually learning.

Through the same big window, your eyes recognized a pair that was getting near the building’s entrance. You gulped, secretly watching them kiss, your cheeks gaining a pinkish tone and a burning feeling in the pit of your stomach. The way Chad had his hands possessively on her thin waist, pulling her impossibly closer and keeping her in place, while Tara had her arms wrapped around his head, tiptoeing to reach his lips.

It was a daily thing that always got your attention even though you never really cared about the affection between them, but this time, you felt dirty, your pupils dilating to absorb every single trace of light, almost as if you were taking a picture of it, the way the wind was subtly blowing her skirt up. You pressed your legs together, the small pain seeming enough to calm down your throbbing cock. Maybe it was a terrible idea to wear sweatpants as it was easy to see the volume you were desperately trying to hide since you saw Tara entering the coffee shop in such short skirt.

When they broke the kiss, the small girl waved her boyfriend goodbye, turning on her heels to enter the same building you were.

At least we don’t have classes together today… — you thought to yourself once again, sighing in relief as you slid down on your chair and plugged your earphones in, waiting for the teacher to come in.

The classes were full of revisions for the finals, your knuckles hurting from taking notes as fast as the teacher was talking, writing down what you considered important — right now, everything. It had a good side though; Tara had left your thoughts for you to focus on what really mattered at the moment.

After an entire morning of non-stop writing, you were ready to pack everything and clear your mind at the gym near the campus, working off all the bothered you felt the past 3 days.

The space was empty, considering that it was an hour that usually was packed with students, the finals probably taking all the time. Like them, you should also be studying, but you figured it was time to let something else burn your muscles other than notes badly written on your notebook. Walking past a few faces you were familiar with, you greeted them with a smile and a small head motion, the wireless earphone blasting some random Taylor Swift song inside your head.

Just like the training area, the lock room was empty, a girl passed by you when you entered and left you alone in silence, the energetic music that played on the gym’s speakers taking over once you removed your earphones, holding them for a few seconds until you heard a robotic voice saying “power off”. Placing them inside the pocket of your backpack, you tossed the object on the top shelf of your paid lock, removing the warm jacket that hugged your body and folded it, placing it inside. Kicking your shoes off, you managed to remove your socks without falling before storing it too, the cement cold under your bare feet.

“Are you going to ignore me until when? Do I gotta put on another show for you so you can pay attention to me?” A small Tara appeared behind you, resting her chin on your right shoulder, feeling your chest rise and fall with the deep breath you took. You closed the metal door slowly.

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend to give you attention?”

She rolled her eyes, sneaky hands climbing on your back and coming back down to rest on your waist, sending shivers down your spine. The tip of her fingers playing with the hem of your pants. “Because I want your pretty eyes on me, not his.”

Feeling a burn escalating from your chest all the way up to your neck, you turned on your heels, now facing a doe-eyed Tara.

How could you still see her so adorably after what you witnessed?

“What do you want, Tara?” You asked with a sighed, crossing your arms in an attempt to keep her away from you — even if it was millimeters.

“I want you.”

“Be for real.”

“I am.”

You analyzed her expressions. Dark brown eyes not leaving yours for even a second, those adorable freckles spread across her small nose bridge and cheeks, lower lip trapped between her teeth. She wasn’t lying, Tara couldn’t keep eye contact when she was lying.

Taking a step back and leaning against the locker behind you, you watched as she took a step closer and uncrossed your arms; you didn’t even try to stop her.

Ghostly fingers tracing your forearm, up to your biceps, resting on your neck, her thumb softly caressing your jawline.

“Tara… don’t.” You tried to sound firm, but as she was closing the gap between you two, your voice lowered a few octaves, betraying you.

“Why not?” It was all she whispered before you felt her lips softly pressing against your own, giving you a chance to push her away and go back to training, if that was what you wished.

You didn’t. Again, your body betrayed you, and so did your thoughts, the images from Friday night clouding up your mind.

The arms that were once crossed to keep her away were now enlacing her waist, pulling her against your own body, desperately trying to feel her warmth.

It was a soft press of lips, but it lasted long enough for you both to sigh, holding onto each other as if something would pull you apart.

“Did I ever tell you you’re so fucking hot in those sweatpants? God! I love when you wear those, I can see you perfectly.” She exhaled against your lips, shaking breath, hands grabbing on your biceps, nails digging the skin before covering your semi-hard member, grabbing the length over the thick cotton fabric.

You had no time to reply, her tongue licking yours so deliciously that was hard to even think of speaking something and break that moment, so you did like Tara, grabbing every muscle you could get your hands on, dartling from her lower back, down to her ass, under her skirt, pulling her up, thighs tightly wrapped around your waist as you reversed positions, aggressively pressing her against the metal locker, a painful moan escaping her lips that sounded like music to your ears.

Unable to keep your mouth away from hers, you pressed your lips again. Aggressively, needy, desperate, like you’ve been longing this for too long, and now, she was giving you the most delicious kiss you’ve ever had. Tara was delicious all over, from her honey voice, to her minty breath, intoxicating your senses with how sweet her perfume was, matching perfectly with the fake persona she wears in front of everyone. It was definitely going to stick to your shirt.

Her breath hitching, soft moans scaping from her lips whenever you moved your head to the other side, kiss fitting deliciously.

A loud laugh coming from the hallway that connected the gym’s open space and the lock room, you were quick to walk towards the shower area, entering the last stall and closing the door behind you with a violent swing, easily opening the water register to mask the sounds Tara was making.

When the icy water hit your body, a moment of guilty took over your senses and you pulled back, breaking the kiss.

“Why did you stop?” Carpenter whined, opening her eyes.

“We can’t do this, Tar.”

“But you know you want this. You know that. Tell me that you don’t. Tell me you didn’t enjoy watching the way Chad was fucking me, or the way he kisses me before going to class.” Your eyes widened, awkwardly shifting your weight from one foot to another. “What? You think I don’t know you watch me through the window? Why do you think I always kiss him in that same spot?”

“I…”

“You’re so cute… all flustered and embarrassed.”

The tip of her index finger traced your jawline all the way down your neck, slightly peeking through the loosen white shirt that was slowly becoming transparent as the water hit your back, revealing the strap of your bra. She smiled; bottom lip trapped in between her teeth as she pressed herself down on the volume under her, a moan trapped in your throat at the sudden contact.

“For someone that doesn’t want this, your dick shows the opposite.” Tara moved her hips on you, the pressure of your clothed member on her clit getting her to drip on the fabric of your pants. “You’re such a liar.”

“You’re full of bullshit, did you know that?” You moved your hips up, earning a surprised moan.

The girls in the room were loud, talking and laughing about something you didn’t care about, all you wanted to hear was your best friend’s moans, loving the way she whispers your name as her hips continued to roll against you, eyes closed and a small smirk tugging on the corner of her lips.

“And you’re dying to fuck me.”

It was your turn to let out a huff, fingers squeezing the soft flesh of her bare thighs, the short skirt brushing against your hands.

“How long have you been planning this, huh?”

In a teasy tone, you close the gap between her neck and your lips, languid kisses being placed all over, goosebumps forming on the soft skin. You smiled, loving the way she squeezed her legs around your waist.

“Since I saw you kissing that blondie at the party.” She easily confessed; eyes closing to focus on the ghostly contact of your lips on her neck. “The way your hands were on her waist, your leg in between hers, the way she was bouncing on your thigh,” Tara chocked on her breath when you bit her pulse point, heartbeat fast on the tip of your tongue. “your lips on her neck, leaving bruises everywhere… It was so fucking hot I couldn’t take it anymore, so I dragged Chad upstairs and made him fuck me while I was thinking of you.” It was her turn to smile when she felt you twitch under her. “I bet you can go deeper than he can, that you can fuck me so good, ruin me… can you do that for me?”

You smiled, swiftly pulling down the hem of your sweatpants enough for your dick to pop out, hitting your belly, a relieved sigh leaving your parted lips. You brought Tara against you again, a low moan escaping her lips as her clit pressed on your length, the damp fabric of her underwear creating a pleasant friction.

“You’re sure you want this?” You asked, once again the guilt threatening to fill your thoughts, but smaller, a lot smaller than the first time, and a lot easier to make it go away; one look from Tara’s dark-brown eyes and it was gone.

Pulling her drenched panties to the side, your fingers found her warmth, loving the way she clutched around them, rubbing it up and down her slit before positioning the tip of your cock in her entrance, forcing your way in, her hips buckling it up as you stretched her out.

“Fuck, you’re so thick,” Tara breathed out, nails digging in the back of your neck as you slowly pushed yourself inside her, the velvety walls clutching around you.

Trying to ease the moment, you brought your mouth down her neck, licking all the way up to her jawline, softly biting the spot once you were all inside. Her head tilted back against the sweaty tile as water fell around the both of you, mostly hitting your back as your body protect hers from the cold temperature.

“Look at me,” you demanded, trying to keep yourself calm, allowing her to adjust first. “Tara, look at me. I want your eyes on me.”

Tara was tight around you, her warmth embracing you as deliciously as her legs wrapped your waist or as her fingers intertwined in your hair.

It took her a minute to open her eyes, pupils completely dilated as she leaned in, licking your lips with a mischievous smile before taking your bottom lip in a hurtful bite, easing the pain with the tip of her tongue.

“What are you waiting for? Just fuck me already.” She breathed out, purposefully clenching around you.

You huffed, amused by this version of Tara you never knew was hidden behind sweet smiles and kind personality; she was a slut. And you were loving every second of this, the way the back of her converses were pressed on your thighs, keeping you impossibly closer to her. Or the way she looked at you with dark, half-opened eyes, completely focused on your features.

You pulled back slowly, her mouth hanging open and eyes threatening to close, but you stopped when loud and messy conversation filled the lock room.

Tara pulled you closer by instinct, causing you to enter her in a fast move, your hand fast to cover her mouth, a low shhh falling from your lips when a struggled moan scaped hers, her throat vibrating, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

The view you had was sinful, your hand covering Tara’s mouth, some drops of water sprawling on her face, the mascara starting to run down her cheeks as the heat got too much, not even the coldest temperature couldn’t cool down the two of you, and neither the girls that were chitchatting outside the closed stall.

You started to move, slowly and careful, testing her, your other hand firmly keeping her against the wall.

"Fuck, you're clenching so hard around me." You breathed out with hoarse voice.

Tara covered your hand with hers, caressing gently before pulling it away, lips wrapping around your thumb in, your mind wondering how it would feel to have her mouth wrapped around your cock, sucking you off with the same eager she was sucking on your thumb. 

“I can feel you throbbing inside me,” she whispered, slowly bouncing her body up, using your broad shoulders as support. “it’s so good. Now, fuck me.”

You huffed, the doe, adorable, innocent eyes staring at you was a perfect contrast to the situation you found yourself at, buried deep inside her, controlling every single nerve inside your body to wait instead of fucking her raw, but the request made you smile, hand wrapping around her throat in a slight squeeze as you moved your hip down, leaving only the tip inside before forcing your way in. Tara’s lips fell apart in a silent moan, short nails digging the flesh on your wrist, an overwhelming sensation spreading all over your body to be fully inside her again.

If Tara knew you’d feel this good inside her, she would’ve done it a lot sooner.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, mouth open trying to catch a breath as she felt every single centimeter of your dick move inside her, stretching her out in a delicious way, goosebumps all over her body every time she felt the blood running through your veins, pulsating inside her.

You stopped, taking a small step to the side, getting away from the door as you heard steps coming closer. The door loudly closing next to where you were.

“Be a good girl and keep your eyes on me, would you?”

“I’m starting to think you love having my eyes on you.” She teased back, brown eyes staring at you the same second.

“I do, I want to see them when you fall apart with me inside you.” She gulped, the simple words affecting her more than she would admit. You leaned closer, kissing her jawline, waiting for the person on the stall next to you to turn the water on. “Is this what you had in mind? When you picture me with that other girl?”

Tara wasn’t the jealous type, but now that she actually had you inside, she did feel a twinge of it inside her chest.

“No,” black painted nails grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her. “this is what I pictured when I was with Chad, with him deep inside me… unlike you, he’d be ruining me right now.”

Your tongued slid on your bottom lip, the teasing failing to cause something in you.

“Want me to fuck you, Tara? Want everyone around us hearing how good I am making you feel, instead of your perfect boyfriend?”

“At least he wouldn’t be afraid to break me.”

You tilted your head slightly to the side, hearing more water running behind your back. Taking a strong grip on her waist, you slid inside in one swift move, covering her lips with yours. Once you were all inside her, it was hard to pull out, it was warm and soft, fitting just right.

Tara moaned against your lips, feeling every inch being pulled out only to slowly go in the next second, a steady pace that felt complete with the delicious taste of your tongue on hers. After a few more testing thrusts, you began to speed up your pace, filling her to the brim and making her toes curl, head falling back against the wall, not being able to hold back as your body was begging for release.

Removing her hands from your neck, her finger gripped the top of the wall behind her, pulling her weight up as much as she could, allowing you to wrap your arms under her knees, pushing her body against the tile.

This new position made you go deeper, hitting every sensitive spot inside her, teeth chewing on her lip bottom violently enough to almost draw blood, afraid that if she stopped doing that, everyone would hear how desperate she was for you and the running water wasn’t loud enough to cover it.

You wouldn’t last longer, not with how tight Tara was clenching around you and the way she had her eyes locked to your, pupils fully blown, darkening the doe eyes. You leaned closer, sucking the plump lip once you saw a drop of blood nearly falling to the floor, soothing the bruised skin with your tongue.

In a wrong move, your cock slipped out, standing proudly between the two bodies. Tara whined; eyes half-open at the feeling of being empty. She shook her head in a silent request. You smiled, caressing her cheeks. One hand of hers came down to meet you, scratching the nape of your neck, a clear sign that was close.

“What is it, love? Need something?”

Teasingly, you held your shaft, rubbing it along her sticky slit, teasing her aching hole a few times. The small girl was desperate, the knot in the pit of her stomach turning into tears, running down her face along with fainted black mascara.

“Please, please, please, I need you inside now, I’m so close…” She cried out, trying to pull you closer.

“Look at you, so pathetic, all you can do is beg. Aren’t you ashamed to be such a slut, Tara?” Your knuckle brushed the hair off of her face, allowing you to admire the red color that filled cheeks, stained by the ruined mascara.

She nodded to your question, unable to form a single sentence as you changed positions before sliding inside her once again, keeping a slow pace, allowing her to adjust, the velvety walls welcoming you tightly. Your grip on her waist was bruising the soft skin, no longer giving a single thought about the marks you shouldn’t left on her body, you wanted her to look at them when Chad fucks her and think of you, on how good it felt to have you buried deep inside her.

With your fingers still glued to her hip bones, you fastened your pace, the wet sounds coming from your bodies and her whiny moans barely being muffled by the running water, deep down you wanted everyone to hear the way she was saying your name like a sacred mantra. It was so fucking sexy the way her nose scrunched when you hit the sweet spot inside her or the way the tip of her tongue licked on her lips, throat dry from all the deep breaths she took.

Your name falling from her lips, getting you to look at her, “I want… fuck,” she closed her eyes, holding back as long as she could, prolonging this moment. “I want you to come deep inside me. Can you do that for me?”

You couldn’t see it, but with her request, you were sure your pupils were blown out, because the smile she let out watching your expression change, was reason enough for you to fuck the life out of her. Your nails sank in the flesh of her ass, forcefully moving her body up and down your throbbing cock, the knot in the pit of your stomach getting as tighter as Tara’s walls around you.

She was close, you both were, her hands in the back of your head bringing your mouth to her neck, peppering soft kisses on the wet skin, the faint smell of her perfume filling your lungs, her moans whispered straight to your ears like the most addictive song you heard before.

When she came, her teeth sunk on your shoulder with a hard bite, nails digging the nape of your neck. You followed her, coming deep inside like she asked you to. Your legs trembled, hands gripping the top of the wall to maintain balance while the other held her waist, the small body violently twitching against yours.

Opening your eyes, little stars shone in front of you. You took deep breaths, Tara holding onto you like her life depended on it — at this point, it did. She had 0 strength to stand on her own.

When she finally let go of your shoulder, a satisfied hummed left her lips followed by a smirk-like smile, hands now delicately caressing the sides of your neck and jawline, fingers removing a few strains of wet hair from your face.

“It feels so good,” she whispered, movies her hips in a perfect circle. You chocked on your breath. “you’re all inside me and it’s so good.”

“Is this how you fantasized?”

“It’s far better.” She laughed, weakly. “You’re much better than...”

You stopped her from finishing the sentence, kissing her with ease and care, “Can you take another one for me?” Tara gave you a sly smile, the heels of her converses pulling you closer. “That’s my good girl.”

[denwritesandcries]

Fall(ing for You) – S.C

Pairing: sam carpenter x soft goth!reader

Summary: Sam is certain that Tara's new quiet friend may turn out to be Ghostface, unfortunately – or not –, that friend is you.

or, it takes the help of tara and a dog for sam to finally come to her senses.

Word count: 6,0k.

Content: scream 6 but without the killing, r's 23, cursing, wingman tara ft. yr dog, jokes abt r being ghostface, fluff, pining, sam falling first AND harder, silly movie references.

Note: hey guys, It's been a while since I've written for scream but I rewatched it recently and finally got some inspiration again! I describe the reader a little more in this but it won't really affect anything if you choose to ignore it.

English is not my first language.

Tara made a new friend.

Sam still isn't sure exactly, but the only plausible explanation for the way Tara has been acting lately is that her sister met someone interesting enough to keep her attention so that she gave everyone a break from her tantrums and reckless behavior since their new start outside of Woodsboro.

Now, that could be a good thing, it had been months since the kids started college and they were all doing relatively well. Mindy had Anika, Chad had Ethan and also there was Quinn, even though she wasn't very close to anyone. Tara should have someone too.

The problem is that Sam has no idea who this person is. Tara just won't tell her.

You see, Sam understands that she might have been a little too protective of her sister and that this made Tara's behavior become defensive towards her. Her new therapist – after she got rid of that quack – is helping her work through that, okay? But curiosity and worry were eating away at her insides. The curfews, the tasers and pepper sprays, and especially the ID checks were all important to keep them safe, dammit! Mindy and Chad had no problem with it, and it was only after all the appropriate measures were in place that Sam could breathe and let these new people be a part of their lives. Not knowing this so-called friend, let alone who they were, was driving her to the brink of a breakdown.

She was trying to give her some space, probing with subtle questions here and there and the most she got was an eye roll and ‘It’s just a sophomore I met at the film club, haven't you said I should try to be part of something that didn’t involve frat parties?’

Well, at least it wasn’t a boyfriend, given the lack of dreamy sighs, giggles into the phone and late-night escapades. That was good. They already had enough problems to deal with and a new relationship so quickly was the same as asking for a ghostface to go for them again and Sam hadn’t been back in Tara’s life long enough to know how to deal with this part of being a big sister yet.

Sam had understood that she wouldn’t meet this mysterious person for a while, at least until her sister’s tantrum had passed, and between two shitty jobs and trying to keep a structured life being responsible for a bunch of teenagers in the big city, she couldn’t find it in herself to insist on the subject any further and get the risk of causing a fight. She thought it would be forgotten.

Now just imagine Sam's surprise when she came home one night after a long, exhausting shift, expecting to eat the leftover pizza she had hidden in the fridge and fall into a deep sleep, only to be knocked over by an noisy and strange dog with a piece of pizza in its mouth as soon as she opened the apartment door. Her pizza.

“Koda!” Someone called. Someone unfamiliar. It wasn’t just the dog, there was a stranger in her house.

Sam’s hand instinctively moves to reach for the taser hidden in her jacket when a pair of black-clad legs show up in her vision. Does Ghostface work with dogs now? She wonders in confusion for a moment, and has given up on the voice changer?

The only thing stopping her from tasing this potential killer in front of her is the pure bewilderment and Tara’s laughter filling the room.

“Oh my god,” the figure bends down, picking up the dog who turns out to be a very excited puppy, the pizza falling from its mouth and onto her shirt, getting it all over her, “I’m so sorry.”

It’s a girl, a face she’s never seen before, looking completely mortified.

“Hey, Sam,” Tara stops beside her, a barely hidden tone of satisfaction in her voice, “This is my friend. I thought you’d like to meet her.”

It's safe to say that Sam didn't like Tara's new friend at all.

“You didn’t think about telling me you were bringing someone?” Sam exclaimed, rubbing her temples wearily, “Especially that Lydia Deetz project right there? I almost shocked her in the middle of the hallway!”

Quinn shifted from where she was leaning against the counter in the small impromptu meeting and didn’t bother to hold back her laugh, “Nah, I think Tara would fit that role better.”

“Quinn,” Sam groaned exasperatedly.

“If I had told you you would have said no,” Tara shrugged.

“Yes! Because we don’t know her!”

It was quite awkward sitting on the couch in their living room less than five feet away from the kitchen and being able to hear every word spoken as if you weren't right there, with your messy dog ​​happily chewing on the sock on your ankle.

This wasn't the turn you expected your night to take when you decided to accept Tara's sudden invitation for a movie night, visiting her off-campus for the first time since you became friends.

You met her at the start of the school year, the day she showed up for a film club meeting before anyone else arrived, well, anyone except you. She seemed completely lost and suspicious, even though she was clearly struggling not to show it, which made you like her right away.

Getting attention and starting conversations was never really your thing, this whole club thing wasn't either, honestly, but you ended up being one of the last older members to join with most of the others having recently graduated and the responsibility of looking after the new freshmans gradually fell on you. Most of the time you kept to yourself, preferring the behind-the-scenes side of things to participating in the long-winded debates of high school teens obsessed with slashers and making Stab parodies, but you noticed the way Tara seemed desperate for any sense of normalcy beneath her laid-back facade and the whispers of murder that haunted her.

You took what seemed like a rabid kitten under your wing and ended up cornered by the personification of a Doberman because of it. Talk about doing good deeds and stepping out of your comfort zone. What a joke.

Tara’s older sister, Sam, if you got it right, stared at you with narrowed, suspicious eyes – just like Tara when you first approached her – towering over your figure that tried to look smaller than it actually was on the couch, as if she was trying to learn every little hidden detail about you.

“So…” you began hesitantly, wanting to break the awkward silence that had ensued, “you have such a beautiful house.”

“Aren’t you too old to hangout with a freshmen?" Sam cut in coldly, one eyebrow perfectly arched in distrust.

You sighed, this conversation sure started off very well, “I’m 23,” you cleared your throat, “Tara’s in the same club as me, and I’ve just been helping her with some classes I used to take when I first started here.”

You hear Tara’s distinct chuckle, clearly amused by your frustration, which doesn’t help your situation much. What a wonderful friend, indeed.

Sam hummed with fake indifference and the other two housemates watched the exchange intently, eyes darting between you like they were at a tennis match, amused by the sight of Sam trying to intimidate the poor unsuspecting twit that you were.

A great friend, for sure. Ugh, this is why you don’t sponsor obviously troubled kids.

It’s not like Sam Carpenter is really intimidating or scaring you out the way she seems to want to, she has bags under her eyes and a greasy pizza stain on her shirt and you’re a grown woman, for God’s sake! It’s just that it was extremely embarrassing to cause a scene like that, especially with someone who you really wanted to make a good first impression.

Interacting so much socially lately was becoming relatively exhausting and you expected it wouldn't become a thing, as you were feeling a bit overwhelmed by everything. You hoped this would be the last big meeting you had for a while. Tara had told you a lot about her sister, mainly about how it was a pain in the ass to always have someone hovering over her, but it was something you never took seriously because of the way she sounded when she talked about it, too loving for someone who hated the situation so much. No, Sam was important and Tara had insisted that you meet her after doing the same with the twins just a few days ago. You had carefully planned how it would happen, what clothes you would wear and what you would say and now your chance to make things right was ruined, the words seeming to have escaped you in a flash. You were reserved, quiet, small in the midst of so much hustle and bustle, used to watching everything go by from the safety of the shadows. Being a mouse was easy.

“Is that all you have to say?”

Less easy when caged with a lion.

“Look,” you tried again, silently squirming as your pup start sniffing Sam’s combat boots furiously as you stood to pick him up, “I really didn’t want to cause any trouble or misunderstanding, Tara called me earlier while I was walking this little guy and insisted it would be okay if I came over for a movie. I can leave now if you want to, I’m really sorry for… well, all of this.”

You noticed Sam's expression became conflicted, as if she didn't know exactly what to make of you standing in the middle of her living room without showing any threat and wasn't used to people actually listening to her on sight. Still, she wasn't going to give up that easily.

“Great,” Sam nodded, her voice sounding less firm, “go then.” She pointed directly at your dog, now sitting at her feet with its fluffy head tilted to the side in a guiltily innocent manner, “And make sure to take that pizza thief with you.”

(You swear he looked personally offended.)

“What? No!” Tara seemed to realize that her little game could backfire and came out from behind the counter in your defense.

“Tara—”

“Come on, Sam, it's movie night!” She stomped her foot loudly, “I refused the invite to Jason's party for that, we were marathoning all the Texas Chainsaw Massacres!”

You don’t even have to be good at reading people to know that Sam had lost that fight the moment Tara looked at her with pleading eyes, knowing that there was no way to blame her for simply doing what she asked.

That didn’t stop Sam from rolling her eyes and huffing in irritation.

“Fine,” she practically growled, shifting her attention back to you, “But I’m gonna keep an eye on you, so you better not act all smart and keep that fleabag away from me.”

“His name’s Koda.” You pointed out, before softening, “And thank you, I promise I’m not gonna—”

“Shush.”

Sam was sure this was all part of an act of yours, just the first step to infiltrate their lives and pull the rug out like others have done before, because no one in their right mind would sit quietly next to someone who nearly shocked and threatened them in many ways just a few minutes ago.

Especially if that someone is burning holes in your head with their eyes, like she's doing now.

Sam watches shamelessly and intrigued, shooting daggers at your figure as you lean back with Tara babbling enthusiastically between you, your puppy completely knocked out on her lap, oblivious to the sounds of death and fake blood spurting from the TV. She notices the way you effectively ignore her, responding to Tara’s remarks with genuine interest, even if your voice doesn’t match her enthusiasm.

You remained quiet beyond those moments and the tiredness along with your lack of sudden movements made Sam feel secure enough to leave the room and finally take a shower – because along with everything she never saw much fun in these movies like Tara –, warning you that it was better for everyone to finish the night when the movie ended.

(She also forced Quinn to take her place on the couch and promise to scream if anything happened. You didn't comment on that either.)

Sam only falls asleep when she hears the sounds of goodbyes coming from the living room and the door house being closed, finally relaxing after all the interaction, deciding that it was enough. You could have been at her house, but that doesn't mean she would let you come over again.

You come back, because of course Tara doesn’t give a damn about Sam’s warnings about being careful around strangers – incessantly claiming that you’re not a stranger – and there you are at the next game night that Chad insisted on making a tradition.

At least there’s no sign of the shirt-destroying furball this time and there are pizzas smelling good on the kitchen counter.

“‘Sup, Sam!” Chad greeted loudly as she walked through the door, waving excitedly from the couch, “We’re playin’ uno!”

Her eyes landed on you, who waved at her with a small, tight smile, awkwardly sandwiched between Anika and Ethan, the way you stood out among them so comical that Sam suppressed a snort. She decided to join in without much protest, someone responsible still had to watch you, after all.

Sam wouldn’t admit to anyone, absolutely anyone, that she was enjoying the evening, listening to the heated exchanges as everyone got competitive. Strangely, she noticed that you didn’t try to engage much in the conversation, just like the other night, seeming happy to just be there. She thought you had been withdrawn then because of her behavior towards you, but maybe you were just shy.

That made her raise an eyebrow, Tara didn’t usually embrace introverts. Actually, she had always been pretty popular even before Sam left, if she remembered correctly, so this was new. She felt a small piece of curiosity spark inside her instead of more mistrust as she expected and it disconcerted her.

“The whole point of the 7 card is that you're not supposed to talk, man!” Mindy throwing chips at Ethan interrupted Sam's flow of thoughts.

“This rule is stupid! The manual doesn't even mention it, read it for yourself!” Ethan shuffled the cards wildly – ​​everyone at the table had seen his hand – pointing, “And you’re talking too!”

“Whatever! Nobody reads the fuckin manual to play uno, Ethan!”

Tara groaned, “Guys, just shut up and everybody buys a card.”

“But that’s not how you play!”

She decided to abandon the game and all the fuss in favor of getting some air and a slice of pizza and was surprised to find that her favorite was still untouched, which was a miracle in such a crowded house.

“Tara said that you liked this flavor,” your voice coming from nearby startled her and Sam saw you gesture to the box in front of her, “My treat, for the other day.”

She cleared her throat hesitantly, “You didn’t have to.”

“I did,” you dismissed with a wider smile, “My dog ​​left you without dinner.”

Sam didn’t respond, but you leaned against the counter next to her anyway, picking at the dark polish on your nails casually, listening to your friends arguing in the background.

“Get tired of the crowd?” Sam asked, deciding that ignoring you wasn’t an option since you clearly weren’t leaving.

“Yeah,” you agreed, shrugging with an odd laugh, “I guess I’ve had enough socializing for one day.”

Sam wasn’t sure why she didn’t just send you away then, seizing the perfect chance to dismiss you like she’d wanted all along and avail everyone's presence to remind that you weren’t welcome, but that strange spark flared in her and made her smile unconsciously, more sincere than the previous tense ones.

“Oh, I know what you mean,” she agreed slowly.

Your expression brightens in surprise, as if you expected a cold, blunt rejection or maybe a slap (probably both) and Sam feels a bit guilty by it. Sighing, she waves you towards the apartment’s tiny balcony, silently inviting you to join her, to which you respond with a firm nod as you watch her unwind the chain on the sliding door – they keep everything locked up tight now – and follow her.

Sam swears she’s not doing this to be nice or anything, all she wants is to repay you for your politeness, that’s all.

The night breeze is refreshing and sends pleasant shivers down your arms and shoulders as Sam leans against the railing and the two of you fall silent. It’s pleasant, actually.

Sam takes a moment to look at you, like, really look at you for the first time since you met and her breath hitches.

Your relaxed features look cheerful and are well-emphasized by the makeup you’re wearing – she tries to search her memory and gets frustrated when she can’t remember if it’s the same style as the night you met – your hair blows a little in the wind and your clothes just fit. Every single thing about you seems to have been specially made to be this way, charming, beautiful.

Your elbow brushes hers in the small space as you lean in to better contemplate the dreary, empty New York sky and Sam’s skin is burning and she doesn’t understand why.

Sam didn’t realize, through all the haze of anger and suspicion and tantrum, until she was touching a pretty girl, that you were, in fact, a pretty girl.

Shit.

“You’re trying so hard not to like her that I’m getting embarrassed for you.”

It’s late. Everyone has already left, including you, who went early claiming you had to work the next morning. Tara should be in bed by now, but she’d be upset if Sam told her to do that, so she doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam dismisses, packing up the last of the leftover pizza to put in the fridge.

“But you do,” Tara hums smugly, stifling a yawn, “Just admit that you were wrong and that I’ve made a friend who’s not a potential serial killer. And that you might have a crush on her. I saw you two on the balcony.”

“It wasn’t like that,” she grumbles, “And I wasn’t wrong for being worried that you brought home a stranger without telling me, even if she’s not dangerous.”

“Ha!” Tara points out, “So you admit she’s no danger.”

Sam sighs tiredly, bringing a hand up to massage her temple, “She can keep coming over for movie nights or whatever if that’s what you're asking me.”

Tara cheered, jumping up from where she was sitting on the counter to finally go to sleep. She stopped just before turning the corner to her room.

“Seriously though,” she caught Sam’s attention, “You guys have more in common then you might think, that’s why I like her. I think you could too, if you get to know her better.”

“That’s impossible, Tar,” Sam says weary, looking at her sister with the most done expression, “I don’t ‘get to know’ anyone, I already have all the people I need in my life.”

“Maybe you’ll be surprised,” she shrugged, “It would be good for you anyway.”

Sam's approval was all Tara needed to make you a regular fixture in their lives and make movie nights an official thing. Sam usually walks in when they're in full swing, with the two of you deep in conversation about the completely random movie you decided to watch that day, and now she greets you back instead of ignoring like she did before and you look happier every time she does it openly.

She finds excuses to wander around the living room and kitchen when she hears Tara pause the tv for whatever reason, just so she doesn't leave you unsupervised in their house – it was still too early to rule out all the care, after all. It ends up making her feel kind of ridiculous, because, hell, she shouldn't have to make excuses to wander around her own house! But you guys talk during these moments, sometimes.

Sam learns more about you as time goes on, and she tells herself that it's just gathering information, that you're not friends at all, but she finds herself soaking up every bit of detail. What are you majoring in, how long have you been in town, if you live close to campus like most students or if you have roommates like them.

(Actually, when she thinks about it now, Sam probably sounded more like a maniac trying to find out where you live, but at least you didn’t call her out on it.)

Then movie nights are joined by study sessions that Tara insists on having as her first week of finals approaches, and you manage to convince Sam to let you bring your puppy too so he won’t be alone for so many hours and she can act a little more normal around you and have a conversation that doesn’t sound like a job interview. You tell her about the movies you like – which consist of more than just an extensive list of slashers like she initially assumed – in a loud and excited tone instead of your usual repressed one, and it stirs something inside her, which leads to several other facts. Your favorite color, what kind of music you like, what you do when her sister isn't dragging you somewhere, and why you decided to adopt a dog so young when you already had so many other responsibilities.

“He helps me not feel alone,” you replied, looking deep into her eyes, “my roommate graduated last year and moved out. I guess I couldn’t stand coming home to empty houses, you know? And he’s my guard dog, he takes care of me and I take care of him. The little guy might be small but knows how to do damage.”

She could relate to that, in part.

And then you start asking too, suddenly and Sam finds herself with a dilemma after so long avoiding your attempts to get to know her. She’d rather remain closed off.

But a trade isn’t a fair trade unless she gives you something back, is it? And you’ve been quenching her thirst for knowledge for a long time now, you gave her a lot.

So, during one night when you insist on helping her make dinner, she confides in you – somewhat reluctantly – that she really enjoys cooking, especially healthier meals. She doesn't look at you, nor does she say it clearly but still, you listen and Sam is surprised when she finds herself speaking.

“You really should ask her out.”

And of course, Tara is always close enough to raise an eyebrow with a knowing look at her on practically every occasion.

“I've told you already, it's not like that.”

“You're cuddling her dog right now.”

“Just so he stays quiet and doesn't disturb you two! Shouldn't you be studying, by the way?”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

Sam can almost, almost admit that you're her friend too.

(Though she kinda wished it were a little more than that.)

Movie nights evolve into sleepovers, because Sam argues that it’s simply too late and dangerous for you to come back alone and she feels embarrassed – and guilty as much – when Quinn brings up that it has always been dangerous and she didn’t mind letting you go before, when she didn’t care about you.

Now there are some of your clothes in a drawer Tara set aside for you just like a colorful food bowl in the living room for your dog – Mindy jokes that it's theirs now – and there’s rarely a day that goes by where she doesn’t see you.

And when you don’t come over, Tara makes sure to remind her of how anxious she looks waiting for a knock on the door and how she lights up when you greet her first when you finally arrive.

“I swear that now she comes here more to see you than me.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Yeah, sure,” she huffs, “And when are you gonna make a move again?”

“Never, Tara.”

Sam hasn't heard a thing about you in days. Tara said yesterday that you ended up getting really busy with a college project, preparing a presentation that, her sister quotes, 'needs to be perfect because public speaking is horrible and there's a big chance I'll embarrass myself.'

It's not that Sam asked, it's just that she doesn't text you often and Tara thought it would be convenient to talk about it out loud when she was on the phone with Mindy.

Anyway, it doesn't really matter, it's not like you two are close. You are Tara's friend. If it weren't for her, you two wouldn't even have a reason to see each other. There's no reason to be so stressed.

But she misses you anyway. She's having a shitty day at her shitty job and everything seems to go by even slower because Sam knows that when she gets home at night you probably won't be on the couch waiting with the soft smile she's grown accustomed to looking forward and if she has to deal with another group of rude teenagers she'll freak out.

The sound of the bell ringing at the entrance draws Sam’s attention back to the counter and she ends up face to face with the person who has been on her mind all day.

“Sam!” you approached with a tired smile, your dog wagging his tail happily on a leash in one hand and a paper bag in the other, “I was looking for you.”

You'd never visited her at work before, she didn't even know you knew where it was, having only mentioned it in passing, but there you were, with the smile she wanted to see and bags under your eyes.

“Hi,” she cleared her throat, feeling her face heat up. Damn, she looked like a teen girl with a crush, “I didn't expect to see you here, what, uhm, what do you need?”

You snorted at her flustered attending voice. Seeing her show any kind of nervousness was very unusual.

“Tara called me today demanding I get out of the house for a bit and ‘touch some grass’, so I decided to bring this buddy along, he was begging me for a proper walk,” you shrugged, “And she asked me to bring your lunch.”

Sam paused at that, Tara definitely didn't make lunches for her, much less go to the trouble of delivering them like that.

“...Thank you,” she accepted the paper bag you held out delicately, eyeing the package suspiciously. You held back a giggle when she looked at you again, “Anything else?”

“Oh, um,” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, obviously nervous, “I’m taking Koda to the park nearby and I thought maybe you’d like to come with us. If you can, of course.”

Sam couldn’t really, it was still a few hours before her shift ended at the coffee shop, but she didn’t want you to leave without the promise of seeing you again.

“Of course,” she found herself replying instead, “I can meet you there in a few minutes.”

She knew she’d made the right decision when you gifted her with one of your warm smiles.

“Okay! Nice,” you nod, absently twirling your dog’s leash around your fingers, startled by the sudden, loud bark he lets out at the delay, breaking the oblivious bubble you were in, “Alright, I should go before he starts trying to jump over the counter.”

Sam barely hears the sound of the bell announcing your departure over how loudly her heart pounds in her ears.

It takes a lot of willpower and her last pack of good cigarettes to convince her insufferable coworker — who’d watched the whole thing with a bored expression and loudly chewing gum while cleaning the coffee machine — to cover the rest of her shift. He ended up ordering her lunch too, thinking it might be something special, only to complain when he was met with a sad peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a carton of warm apple juice. Tara really didn’t cook… but then why had she done that?

(She laughed at him anyway.)

“You owe me, Carpenter,” he grumbled, taping a note to her arm that had fallen out of the package.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

Sam was out the door before he could change his mind.

Taking a deep breath of the damp autumn air, she picked up the yellow post-it note curiously, recognizing her sister’s handwriting immediately.

‘u looked so depressed lately that I

decided to send u a gift

DO something this time

good luck!!’

She knew. She fucking knew that smartass had set her up. Sam should have guessed it before. Tara would never let her get away with this without doing something with her own hands. At least she hadn’t brought Mindy into the scheme this time.

The park you had mentioned was more like a small square and with the rainy cold weather of the last few days, it was pretty empty. Sam could spot you without difficulty, sitting on one of the few benches watching the scenery and she made her presence known when she got close enough.

“Can he even sit still sometimes?” Sam asked, hands in her bomber jacket pockets, pointing with her chin at the dog playing alone on the grass. You moved a little so she could sit next to you and subtly moved closer when she did.

“It rained last night and he's a big fan of puddles,” you chuckled, “I guess he's just excited, we haven't been out much lately.”

He wasn't the puppy he'd been when Sam had first seen him a few months ago and the sight of him running around the trees chasing flowers and stray twigs was actually quite funny.

“He's so covered in mud that it looks like a bear.”

“Well, his name's Koda,” you pointed out amusedly, “I would have called him Pongo but he always looked more like a small bear than a dalmatian anyway.”

She snorted, “If you say so.”

Sam couldn't remember a time when she felt so relaxed, with the weight of your shoulder resting against hers, enjoying the weather of the early season, the ground covered in orange and yellow leaves framing your surroundings.

She couldn't stop the restlessness she felt inside her chest, watching your profile. Feeling warm inside, but also shivering with a terrible fear of ruining everything. Do something, do something, do something echoing like a mantra in her head.

Sam took a deep breath. She'd faced murderers before, for God's sake! She could be braver than that.

"So..." She coughed, "Tara set this up, you know? The lunch stuff and everything."

You turned your attention to Sam, raising an eyebrow with a confused look.

"She did?" You asked, "Why would she do that?"

It's now or never, Carpenter. Focus.

“She did it so I could see you,” she looked away, “Because I missed you. Because I…” She felt your hand reach for hers and noticed a fallen leaf on your shoulder.

“Because you…?” your voice echoed anxious. She could do this. She's going to do this.

“I—”

A loud howl scared the two of you and you turned to see Koda behind a pile of leaves, pupils dilated and jumping up and down.

“Oh no.”

“What?” She stammered.

“He saw a pigeon.”

You see, Sam is not a pet person. She has only had one guinea pig her entire life and only before her father left and a 6-year-old Tara let it escape from its cage never to be seen again – poor Darwin would always be remembered – she does not know how to handle dogs, much less big, excitable ones like yours.

Yet she grabs the leash from your hands when you finally reach your dog who won't stop barking at a tree and ignores your warnings that he is heavy and strong, Sam, it will end up dragging you away and tries to gently pull him to convince him to let go so you can get out of there. Because she is big and strong and she wants to show you that she can handle a mere happy dog.

He acknowledges her like she wanted and also drags her like you said he would.

This manages to surprise her more than the first stab wound she took, how one minute she’s standing still, telling your silly dog ​​to walk in a confident condescending tone, and the next she’s running at full speed through the trees and puddles of the park, your worried voice ringing behind her, as does your laughter.

“Sam!” you exclaimed from a distance, hands cupped around your mouth and dark red scarf falling from your neck, “You need to stop!”

She does stop, yes, but only after your dog has already circled her and Sam must be a ridiculous sight with a colorful leash wrapped around her legs and a dog panting with its tongue out next to her.

“Oh my god,” you lean in closer, unable to hide the amusement in your voice, “Are you okay?”

Sam huffed, feeling a strand of hair fall across her face: “A little help would be appreciated.”

“Sure,” you laughed, reaching out to carefully untangle it, “Maybe I should call him Pongo after all.”

She rolled her eyes: “Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not mocking you, it’s just cute.”

Sam opened her mouth to retort, only to realize how close you two were, with your hands resting on her shoulders to steady her and your faces just inches apart, your breath tickling her skin. You seemed to realize the same thing, tongue coming out to wet your lips, your gaze fixed on her mouth.

Do something. Do something. Do something.

She finally does something. She kisses you.

It's all a mix of sensations, she feels when you sigh, breathing through your nose in surprise and satisfaction, she feels where your hands tighten on the fabric of her jacket and tastes you, warm lips contrasting with the cold skin of your cheeks, with traces of coffee, lipstick and something else so undeniably you that Sam swears her heart might stop.

You pull apart hesitantly, breathing fast, noses touching, eyes shining, and she feels herself falling, literally. Your dog jumps on your waist, demanding to be petted, and you fall, taking Sam with you.

Landing in a pile of leaves is more uncomfortable than the movies make it out to be, but Sam can’t find it in herself to protest when you’re the one on top of her. She smiles and you laugh out loud. She didn’t mess up.

“You’re covered in leaves,” you say, running your fingers through her hair, “And your face is smeared with black lipstick.”

She scoffs, “I wonder who’s responsible for that.”

“He is,” you point innocently at the dog standing next to you.

Sam rolls her eyes, but cups your face with her cold hands to pull you close again, and the second kiss she gives you is just as magical as the first.

Tara doesn’t expect to find a dog taking up the entire couch for the first time in days when she comes back from Chad’s dorm after sending you off on a fake mission to find her sister. Yet, hours later, there it is, with one of the sneakers she forgot to put away when she got home from class stuck in his mouth and trails of mud and leaves across the room.

“C’mon, man, that’s not a toy!”

She hears a laugh and finds herself face to face with Sam, looking completely filthy despite the sound of the shower running in the hallway and Tara knows Quinn isn’t home yet. Oh.

“So, you finally did something?”

Sam nods solemnly, pointing to the dark kiss etched into her jaw.

“I did.”

[cobaltperun]

Can I pls request a Tara X reader who is the daughter of Gale and Dewey born around 2001 so just a year older than Tara. They start dating after the events of Scream 5 and Sam is not happy after catching them having sex in Tara’s room

I really love you’re stuff and I hope you enjoy your break ☺️

She's my Girlfriend!

Tara Carpenter x Female Reader (Request)

Warning: slight smut at the very start.

Masterlist

Word count: 1.3k

She was falling apart for you, broken moans she struggled to keep relatively quiet, her hands grasping for anything to hold on to, from your shoulders, to your back, to the back of your head and neck. Her back arched, her breasts bouncing slightly as she rode your fingers. Your eyes met and you could tell she was close, her wet walls clenched around your fingers as she pulled you in for a kiss. Only to quickly pull back and moan louder than she should when your thumb found her clit.

“That’s it, Tara,” you gasped, lips latching onto her neck as she threw her head back.

“Y/N,” she moaned your name, and then the disaster struck, the doors opened abruptly and slammed into the wall, the shadow trembling with fury remained illuminated by the light from the hall.

“Damn it, Sam!” you yelled, quickly getting on top of Tara and pulling the covers to shield Tara from Sam’s gaze.

“Y/N,” Sam growled, her overprotective instincts taking over at the worst possible moment.

Tara hid her face in the crook of your neck as you struggled to get dressed under the covers, you were not fighting this battle half naked, Sam did not need extra advantages. At least you didn’t get to take your jeans off before she barged in like a maniac.

“Yes, that is my name,” you said as you almost nonchalantly moved off Tara and sat down next to her. You leaned over the bed and grabbed the shirt Tara was wearing and gave it to her, so she could at least wear that and not rely only on the covers to keep her body hidden. “Here, Tara,” you kind of hoped that ignoring Sam would let her calm down. Besides, Tara would definitely start panicking if you started panicking, even before you got together, she would be much calmer if you were calm. As she often told you, you made her feel safe and if you weren’t panicking, she felt like she didn’t need to panic either.

She still refused to look at Sam and hastily pulled the shirt on before hiding behind you. She was usually headstrong and would defy Sam in a heartbeat if she felt like she needed, but she just got caught on the verge of an orgasm, naked on your lap with your fingers knuckle-deep inside her pussy, she was a bit too embarrassed to try arguing back.

“How dare you?” Sam, however, was still seething.

So, ignoring wasn’t working, hell, with how red Sam looked it was likely making it even worse. “No! None of that,” you quickly got up and put your hand up.

“What do you mean no?! You were fucking my sister!” Sam exclaimed furiously.

“Sam… She’s my girlfriend,” you said very slowly. “Tara and I are together, girlfriends, in a relationship,” you put emphasis on every word.

Sam’s eyebrow twitched. “And?”

You could not believe what you were hearing. You threw your arms up and glared at her. “I am not going to explain to you that sex is usually a part of a relationship, also, you heard us, you knew what we were doing. Pervert,” you didn’t even pause, not even when you could picture volcanos erupting out of rage within Sam.

“Get out!” Sam yelled.

“Sam, no!” Tara protested.

You could feel vein popping on your forehead as you stepped forward, closer to Sam. “Now listen here, the only person that can tell me if I’m going to pleasure my girlfriend,” you whipped your arm back and pointed at Tara. “Is my girlfriend,” you didn’t even sneak in! You arrived with Chad and Mindy, and you made it clear to Sam, both you and Tara, by the way, that you’d be staying the night and furthermore, that you’d spend it in Tara’s room. What did she think you would do?! Play card games?! None of this would be happening if Sam allowed Tara to at least every now and then sleep at your apartment, but no, she did not want to risk it and sneaking out was getting more difficult.

At least she didn’t think you’d hurt Tara. She knew you’d never become a Ghostface.

“I do not need to know my sister is,” she paused, visibly shivering at the thought and you understood, well, at least that part. “You were being loud,” she eventually said.

“She moaned louder once!” you exclaimed. And even then, it wasn’t too loud. Sam must have gone to the bathroom or something, because there was no way she could have heard it from her room.

“Sorry for feeling good. Guess I can’t have that either,” Tara looked away with a pout and you saw a tiny hint of guilt and regret in Sam’s eyes. “And we’ve been together for almost half a year…” she added, you and Tara got together about four months after she was attacked and your dad got killed.

“I’m just going to go now,” Sam sighed, and you closed the doors behind her, you could tell she was still fairly pissed off, but there was no point in continuing the conversation.

You went back to bed and groaned, covering your face with your palms. "Damn, that was embarrassing!" you complained, your ability to stay composed and collected vanishing the moment Sam was out the doors.

"Tell me about it," Tara groaned, leaning against you in equal state of distress.

You just pulled Tara into a hug, which she gladly accepted. She was much more embarrassed than you, after all you got caught by Sam, not by your mom. Hell, your mom probably wouldn't even make a fuss about it, just tease you in the morning. Not that she'd ever get the chance to do so, since you had your own apartment because it was closer to university and you needed your independence.

“I’m horny, and frustrated, and not in the mood, and I feel robbed, all at the same time,” she whined, her frustration more than a little clear in her voice, and the way she hugged you. Her hold on you was tight, like it often was when she felt intense emotions and could cling to you to ground herself. It’s been like that when you were younger, when you got closer, and it’s been even more prominent since the attack, since Amber killed your dad. Back then Tara clung to you, begging for forgiveness. In your mind there was nothing to forgive, she didn’t stab him, she didn’t kill him, your dad was being the hero that he always was in your eyes.

You kissed the top of her head. Hoping to reassure her and bring her some comfort, and it worked, as she snuggled closer to you and relaxed. You spent several minutes like that, for a moment you even thought Tara fell asleep. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time she fell asleep in your arms.

You were wrong though, as she suddenly giggled and you looked down to see her trying to compose herself. “But still, for someone that just got caught in the middle of having sex, you sure were confident. That’s Gale Weathers’ daughter for you,” Tara teased, and you chuckled uneasily.

“Fake it till you make it?” you shrugged, after all, as far as you were concerned giving in to Sam’s anger would just give her more power. You did not need to know which measures would be necessary to get her to stop interfering if you gave in tonight.

“Mhm, guess I’ll start calling myself Tara Riley?” she was teasing you again! But you still choked on your own spit.

“Yeah, you do that,” you wheezed as she laughed.

[marvelfilth]

Off the deep end 5 (18+)

Pairing: Ghostface!Sam Carpenter x f!reader

Warnings: canon typical violence, Sam going a little mad

Summary: Ethan is your close friend, and he might be the only one who still trusts you. You know it makes you even more suspicious in Sam's eyes, you know Mindy will take it as confirmation, but you simply don't care. You just want this to be over.

Masterlist

You sit in the trunk of Sam's car, furiously rubbing blood from your hands. Mindy cries in Chad's arms, Tara hovering over them both. Sam's beside you, a cigarette clutched between her fingertips. She hasn't said anything since she dragged you out, carefully sitting you down and wiping your face clean before you scooted away from her, accepting some wet wipes and dissociating at the sight of your blood stained hands.

Your head is a little clearer now and you don't flinch when she starts cleaning the wound on your shoulder, blowing gently when you wince from stinging pain.

Body bags are rolled on stretches one by one. You look down when you see detective Bailey break down in the middle of the street.

But you can't look away from Mindy stomping your way after she's been patched up by the medics, murder in her eyes. She halts to a stop before you, hand poised for a slap. Sam pushes her away before she can land it. "What the fuck, Mindy?"

"Yeah, what the fuck? You're defending her?!" She shouts, furiously wiping away her tears. "It's her, don't you see?"

Her raised voice attracts unwanted attention, people start looking at you with furrowed brows and you see a blonde woman take a few notes in her notepad.

"She made her go, Sam! If it wasn't for her Anika would be here," she breaks down in a sob, falling to her knees. Chad follows her, hugging her close to his chest, his eyes on you. You shudder at the rage shimmering in the dark pools.

"Mindy, she did her best," Tara whispers, clutching Sam's hand.

Your vision blurs with unshed tears, your fingers itching with need to do something, maybe go back to the elevator and keep trying to bring Anika back. Maybe you need to chase him and take his life.

You look away. "She's right, it's my fault."

"No, it's not." Sam reaches out to you, reassurances on her tongue, but Mindy pushes her back before she can voice them.

"She hid the knives," Mindy hisses with a cold look in her eyes.

"What?" Tara mumbles.

Your head suddenly feels too heavy for your neck as you try to understand what she is talking about. What knives?

"What a caring fucking girlfriend you are, huh? Let me get you a glass of water, Sam," she mocks. "You hid the knives right before we got attacked. And you got the call. You were at the fucking bodega. Did you kill that man in the alley too? Fuck, maybe you let that fucker in yourself, maybe you planned all of this. Maybe- Maybe you killed Anika in that elevator. You did, didn't you?!"

Her hands are on your shoulders, pushing hard enough to leave bruises. Your mouth falls open, but not a single word leaves your lips. You tremble violently, shaking your head, and see Tara takes a few careful steps back, her eyes glossed over. Mindy shakes you, screaming right in your face, and all you can do is crumble to the ground, choking on a sob.

Sam catches you before your knees hit the ground, pulling you into her chest and squeezing you tight.

"It's, okay," she whispers, "it's not your fault."

Sam's hands feel scalding hot on your body, but her words fall on deaf ears when the only thing your brain can register is Mindy's anguished cries.

It's your fault, it's your fault, it's your fau-

Loud shouts ring from the entrance, another stretcher rolled out. Mindy gasps, and in a flash she's gone, running after the group.

Anika.

You shoot up, ready to run after Mindy, but Chad stops you with a firm grip and a shake of his head, before turning around and following his sister.

You sag back into the truck, closing your eyes. When you open them, Tara is nowhere in sight, only Sam left standing by your side.

"Do you trust me?" You ask.

She freezes, her eyes widening a slightest bit at the abrupt question. "I do."

"Would you trust me with Tara?"

You can tell your question takes her by surprise. She's silent, tension taking root in her shoulders before it spreads over her whole body. She gulps, her eyes flickering around the street.

You nod, resigned. "I understand."

She turns to face you, her brows pulled tight, and takes her hand. "I trust you, I do. But Tara- Sometimes I don't even trust myself to protect her."

A dark chuckle escapes your lips. "That's not what I'm asking, Sam, and you know it. It's not about protection. Do you trust me not to hurt her? Not to kill her?"

She looks down, letting go of your hand, and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. She takes a drag, blowing smoke away from you, her hands tremble.

This is it, you think. No matter what she said about Anika, no matter what she said about trusting you, you know she doesn't. Not completely.

"I don't know."

You look away in an attempt to hide your tears and nod, drawing a sharp breath. "It's okay. I'll just- I'll go, wait it out. And if you still want me when it's all over, I'll be there."

Sam straightens like a rod, her hand around your waist in an instant. "No. I'm not letting you out of sight." She clings to you, cigarette thrown to the ground. You let yourself enjoy the warmth of her embrace for a few fleeting moments before you start pulling away, but she doesn't let you, forcing your head up to meet her pleading eyes. "Please, don't go. I can't let you go."

You swallow dryly, and wipe away another set of tears. "You'll have to. N-none of you trust me," you choke on a sob, pushing against your girlfriend when she only hugs you tighter, pressing fleeting kisses into your hair. "You- you'll keep looking behind your back to make sure I haven't fucking stabbed anyone. I'd rather wait it out than go through that."

Sam shakes her head, "I need you close, so I can protect you."

You scoff, and forcefully push her away. "I don't need your protection. You should go to them," your head jerks in the twins direction, "make sure they're safe."

"Stop it," she hisses, following you as you try to walk away, "what the fuck do you think will happen once you're alone?"

"Nothing."

You need to get away. You need to go back home, curl on your bed and cry until you physically can't anymore. You still see Anika's empty eyes staring back at you, still feel the stillness of her chest under your palms. Everything around you is blurry as you stumble through the mass of people - paramedics, police officers, reporters and…

"Ethan?" You blurt as he steadies you.

He pants loudly, his eyes wide and questioning. "What- what happened?" He asks, pointedly looking at the blood all over your front.

He's thrown against a nearby car before you can answer, Sam's fist raised for a punch. "Where were you?" She growls, her hand closing around his throat. He's almost crying, his eyes glistening with tears.

You can see yourself in his place. You fight the urge to throw up.

"Sam," you speak up, but she doesn't hear you, pushing him hard enough to leave a dent.

"I- Econ," he wheezes, "I had econ."

"Sam, stop."

She listens this time, her eyes not straying from the gasping boy as she takes a few steps back.

You shudder as her hand returns to yours. "I'll take him with me."

She stills and doesn't utter a single word for a long moment. Ethan watches you, confused, but hesitant to voice his concern, as you both wait for Sam to speak.

"What?" She asks, her voice gravely quiet. "What did you just say?"

You swallow. "He'll stay with me, that way I won't be alone. He's a big guy, he's more than capable of protecting me."

She tilts her head to the side, her eyes growing a shade darker. "You're not going anywhere, especially with him."

“Wha- what is that supposed to mean?” he splutters, visibly offended.

You shush him with a look, shaking your head.

It's not ideal, you know, but it'll have to do. Ethan is your close friend, and he might be the only one who still trusts you. You know it makes you even more suspicious in Sam's eyes, you know Mindy will take it as confirmation, but you simply don't care. You want to barricade yourself in your room, open a bottle of tequila and fall asleep in your warm bed. You just want this to be over.

Sam shakes you out of your thoughts, a question in her eyes.

“What?” You ask, suddenly too tired to look her in the eye. You focus on the spot over her shoulder, still feeling the burning intensity of her eyes.

“I don't trust him.”

“You don't trust me either.”

"I can't afford to, but I can't- I can't afford to lose you either," she confesses, her voice shaking ever so slightly.

You close your eyes, feeling her arms envelope you, the smell of her cologne tickling your nose.

“Sam?” Tara calls.

Sam doesn't allow you to leave the sanctuary of her warmth, pulling you closer when you try to step away. “No,” she whispers, her grip so tight you struggle to breathe, “you're staying with me.”

“Sam, Gale found something.” There's an edge to Tara's tone, and when you open your eyes to look at her she doesn't meet your gaze, pointedly looking away.

Sam nods, tugging you along to follow Tara.

“Actually,” the blonde you saw earlier steps closer, her hand hovering over her gun on her thigh, “I don't think she should go with us.” She pointedly looks at you, her brows furrowed.

“What?” Sam hisses, shooting daggers at the shorter woman, but she appears unfazed.

“From what I've gathered, she seems to be our prime suspect. It wouldn't be wise to take her with us.”

“We should hurry,” Tara says, pleading Sam with her eyes.

“No,” Sam growls.

“Sam,” you plead, tugging your hand out of her grasp. “Just let me go, please.”

You're so tired.

“Sam,” Tara pleads. “We can't take her with us.”

“Then we don't go.” Sam's words are final.

Tara’s eyes narrow, you close your eyes, anticipating the verbal fight.

“What?”

“You heard me. For all we know Kirby is the killer.”

The blonde woman, Kirby, snorts, shaking her head. “This isn't your first rodeo, Sam. Love interests are always top suspects, and, with all of the evidence Mindy presented me with, you should be grateful I'm not putting your girlfriend in a cell.”

Tara looks at you, really looks at you for the first time since Mindy's outburst, her eyes swimming with questions. You look away, unable to hold her gaze any longer without crumbling apart.

“Sam, I'm going.” Tara says quietly. “She'll be-” she stutters, glancing at Ethan, “she can take care of herself.”

You nod, peeling yourself from Sam. She holds your hand tight, staring at Tara. “You're making me choose?” She asks, trembling.

Tara gulps, her eyes wide as she looks at your joined hands. “Whatever Gale found, we need to check it out,” she says, trying to convince herself as much as Sam, “I- I'm going, Sam,” she stutters, arms tight around her stomach.

All you can see is a girl forced to go through another massacre, a girl who still hasn't moved on from her best friend's betrayal. You understand.

Still, it hurts like hell.

“Go,” you whisper, managing a tired smile, “I'll be okay.”

With the last push, you leave Sam staring at her sister, and follow Ethan in the direction of his car.

×××

A movie theater.

That's what Gale found.

Sam walks in, Tara in her wake, timid and hesitant. She can't even look at her little sister right now, instead she focuses on what's right in front of her - her fathers hooded robe.

“You think she's still alive?”

She clenches her teeth tight and glances behind her shoulder. Another hallucination, just what she needs.

“Fucked up, isn't it?” Her father taunts, walking around her in circles.

She closes her eyes, clenching her fists tight. “Get lost.”

His mocking laugh grates at her ears. “I think one of them is already dead.”

She grinds her jaw, closing her eyes. “I said get lost.”

She turns on her heel, leaving the open space. She walks aimlessly, disappearing behind one of the many doors and sliding to the floor with her back against the wall. “Fuck,” she whispers, blinking back tears, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

The door creaks open.

“Sam?”

It's Kirby.

Sam's fists clench.

“What?” She hisses.

The blonde looks at her for a moment, her eyes holding an understanding that hits Sam like a hammer. “We have some good news.”

Sam nods, not really caring.

“The next time that asshole calls we'll know where he is.”

Sam nods again.

“Sam.”

She looks down, playing with a loose thread in her shirt. “Good.”

“You made the right decision.”

Sam scoffs, standing up in one swift motion, now looming over the shorter blonde. “The right decision? She's alone. With that fucking-”

“He's alone with her.”

“Kirby,” Sam growls, a clear warning in her tone.

“I know. I went through this too, remember?” The shorter woman holds her ground, not budging an inch. “You know we can't trust her. You know it was the right thing to do.”

Sam swallows down the urge to scream. Instead she leaves, her steps echoing around the empty room, contemplating just going back and making you stay by her side, even if she has to force you.

×××

Ethan has to pack a bag. That's what he tells you anyway.

You sit in the passenger seat of his car - you didn't even know he had one - and wait for him to come out of his dormitory. You don't even jump every time a random car driving by honks. You tense, looking around, but you don't jump. You count that as a win.

You miss the feeling of safety Sam always brings.

“All good,” Ethan smiles, getting back behind the wheel. You startle, looking to your left.

“You sure?” You mumble, eyeing the small duffle bag he throws on the back seat.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I don't need much anyway. I know Sam's gonna get that fucker soon.”

You smile, relaxing for the first time since you left your girlfriend's side. “She will.”

His driving is a little messy - he hits at least three potholes on the way to your apartment and texts someone twice - but you don't complain, you're a far worse driver.

“That's me,” you sigh, welcoming him inside your apartment.

He looks around, his eyes widening as he takes in the mess that is your living room. You didn't really have enough time to clean up after Sam's visit.

“Sorry about that.” You blush, making a beeline for the kitchen. “Want something to drink?”

×××

“Sam,” Tara pleads, tugging at her sister's arm.

“Not now,” Sam hisses, looking around the park.

Kirby's plan to simply sit and wait for a call didn't sit right with Sam, so now they're here, in the middle of a park, with Kirby and Bailey as back up, baiting one of those fuckers in broad daylight.

She prays it works.

“Sam, you know-”

“Not now,” she hisses. Tara jumps away. Her sister never used that tone with her.

“I'm sorry,” she whispers, blinking back tears. “Maybe we shouldn't have left her. Not like that.”

Sam's eyes narrow as she turns on her heel. “You say that now?”

Tara squares her shoulders, wiping her cheeks. “I thought-”

“It doesn't matter what you thought. You made me choose. I would've never done that to you.”

Her sister folds in on herself, hugging her stomach. Sam sighs, looking around. She knows she's being too hard on her sister, but she can't bring herself to care right now. Not when you're in danger.

Sam starts, “Look, I know you're scared-”

“Yes, for you!” Tara interrupts, shaking. “You remember Richie? Remember his plans for you? And this- Kirby was right about love interests. We both know it.” Sam opens her mouth to protest, but Tara doesn't let her speak. “Don't try to deny it! I care about you, Sam, and if it means I have to be the bad guy to keep you safe, I'll do it.”

Sam's mouth snaps shut. Tara's eyes glint with determination now, her face set. She nods, feeling some of her anger seep away. “Okay,” she sighs. “I'm sorry for snapping.”

“I'm sorry for making you leave her.”

The sisters share a look and, after Sam nods, Tara throws her hands around her older sisters shoulders.

And then her phone rings.

“You're gonna die, you know?” She answers, looking around.

“No, you're gonna die, Sam, but not before watching your little sister bleed out.”

Sam swallows. Tara squeezes her hand, grounding her sister.

“But don't worry,” the voice starts, taunting, “it’s not her time. Yet.”

Sam stares ahead, unseeing, as the phone clicks.

“Kirby, did you get it?” Tara says into her ear peace. “What?” she pales, looking at Sam with wide eyes. “Yes, I know the address…” she trails off, trembling “...it's Y/n’s”

"What?" Sam breathes out and freezes.

Tara, not wasting any time, grabs her sister and runs to Bailey's car, pushing her in before taking a seat behind the wheel. The sirens blare, gnawing on Sam's mind.

Ethan, she thinks, that motherfucker. She's going to kill him. She'll make sure he suffers.

"Sam." Tara glances at her sister, expertly waving through the traffic. "I know you care about her, but..."

"What?"

Sam nods, her palms bleeding from how hard she's dug her nails into them.

"It might be... not what we expect. At Y/n's place, I mean." Tara mutters, glancing at her sister warily. Sam closes her eyes, taking deep, even breaths as her sister speaks. "Be ready for anything, okay?"

She is more than ready to gut the boy.

“Faster,” her father hisses from the backseat and she doesn't spare the hallucination a glance. “Or you'll lose your precious girlfriend.”

She grits her teeth, nails digging into her palms, and focuses on the road ahead, willing him to go away. She can't afford a distraction, not now, not when you are in danger. Tara glances at her warily, before hesitantly placing her palm on her shoulder, squeezing.

The breaks screech and she's out before the car comes to a full stop. She forgoes the elevators, running up the stairs to your apartment and bursting through the unlocked door.

The first thing she sees is blood.

The first thing she hears is Ethan's sobs.

"S-sam," he whimpers, clutching his stabbed stomach. "Please…"

Tara bumps into her back, panting and coughing. Sam's hand shoots out, stopping her sister from getting closer to the boy.

"Where is she?" Sam asks, her voice gravely quiet. She scans the apartment with her eyes, seeing no signs of struggle.

Her father appears by her side, nodding at the knife lying by the boy's side. “She did him good,” he grins in appreciation.

"I'm sorry," he wails, tears streaming down his face, "I'm so sorry, Sam."

She hums and takes a step closer, her fists clenched tight. "Where. Is. She."

Ethan blanches, pressing himself flat against the wall. "We were talking and she- she told me how sorry she was about Anika, told me how hard it was seeing her die, and then… then I hugged her, because she was crying and shaking, and I couldn't just stand there." Sam nods, crouching, and urges him to go on, her fingers squeezing around his wrist. "And then I felt the pain. I- I pushed her away and she- she did it again, she stabbed me again. It hurts so bad, Sam… Please," he sobs, wheezing.

Sam hums, pulling his hand away from the wound and presses her palm against it, hard. "That's not what I asked you," she hisses, enjoying the way he starts to writhe, screaming in pain, and pushes harder. She leans down to whisper in his ear, "Where is she?"

Ethan looks at her with wide eyes, terrified.

"Sam," Tara warns, "stop."

Her father chuckles.

When Ethan doesn't answer, she pulls her hand away, only to punch him straight in the gut, earning a pathetic wheeze. "I won't ask again."

"You're m- mad," he chokes, looking at Tara for help.

"We all go a little mad sometimes," Sam hisses before punching him again and again.

In the corner, her father smiles proudly.

She needs to know where you are. She needs to know you didn't do this. She needs to know you're not one of them.

"Sam, that's enough." Her sister pulls her by the shoulders, forcing her to stop the assault on the poor boy. "You heard him.. You see him. It's her," she whispers, blinking back tears. Sam shakes her head, ready to resume the interrogation, but Tara stops her. "Sam. This is not you. Stop."

Sam blinks rapidly, only now seeing a twinge of fear in her sister's eyes. Fear of her. She stumbles back, choking on her breath and falls to her knees, numb.

She sees her father shaking his head, disappointed in his daughter for stopping so early, for trusting you. She feels her sister's warm embrace, and hears her soothing words. She clings to her, burying her face in the smaller girl's frame, only one thought on her mind.

It's you.