#tara carpetner x black!male!reader

[infernalodie]

was wondering if you could do a tara carpenter x male reader where R is the third killer and fucks tara in the ghost face outfit

𝐑𝐱 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 || 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫

"'𝘊𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥"

Inspo: Deftones - Rx Queen Radiohead - Creep

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Black!Male!reader

Summary: She was the salvation that you would never be able to have...

Warnings: Angst, slight obsession, smut, bulge kink, and even more angst

Words: 3192

DNI IF YOU'RE YOUNGER THAN 18!

“Y/n, get your head out of your ass.”

The harsh and cruel voice belonging to your friend made you blink and look back at the drink clasped between your warm hands. Your fingers twitched at the feeling of a water droplet touching the outside of your finger. Watching it expand and slide around the edge of your digit before dropping down the next and then the next.

It was Tara.

She was very much like the water droplet. She made you intently watch. She left a small spot on your ebony skin to stay there for as long as you wanted. She would fade out and then leave another lingering effect on you–so on and so forth. Expanding further and further until you had to acknowledge it. You loved every little bit of it.

“You need to realize that she’s going to have to die,” Amber muttered, taking a sip of her pop at the counter of the local diner in the center of Woodsboro. “So, come to terms with your feelings and then toss them out the window. Unless you are second-guessing yourself and don’t want to follow through on the plan.”

“I’m with you and Richie on this.” Your sharp words made the girl snicker in amusement. “You can’t blame me for feeling a bit of kilter because I’ve liked her since we were kids, alright? I didn’t just find my psychotic significant other on a subreddit full of creeps.”

“Watch what you say, Y/n,” Amber warned. “Keep this up, you’ll just end up on the chopping block as well.

Sighing, you grabbed a nearby napkin and dried your hands, pointing at the girl with a chuckle. “Exactly,” you said. “Fucking psycho.”

Her face twisted in distaste at your words. She wasn’t psycho. She was a fan. She was an advocate to bring back the great stab movies. Restore what once was–same as Richie. This was the only way she could see it working, so that didn’t make her a psycho. “Do I need to remind you that you decided to sign onto this as well?” She spat. “That makes you just as crazy as Richie and I.”

You scoffed, licking your lips. “Do we need to go over this again? I’m not a movie fanatic. I’m here to kill Sidney and that’s it,” you reminded the girl, who finally turned her gaze to you. “Nothing more and nothing less.” You waved your hand, arms crossing over your chest tightly as you leaned onto the counter.

Once Amber seemed to take the conversation was enough for her fill, you carefully looked over your shoulder. A couple of booths down was Tara sipping on a milkshake. The red-tinted straw tip between her lips as she talked to someone, smiling and revealing the tip of the straw she bit down on. It made you inhale sharply, continuing to watch with that unnerving sense of admiration.

Whatever she did, you believed you drank poison the minute you saw her. Her hands dripped with the substance that you savoured each waking moment. It binds you to her like a vow, a rope slowly bringing you closer and to her without a word of approval from you.

You were very conscious of these feelings. It annoyed you to a certain extent. Because when you’re laying in your room, you think of her. When you’re in class, you think of her. She invades your mind like ink to water. Bringing endless darkness to your life that could be mistaken as bad, but the darkness was your best friend. You felt content in its presence. You felt understood in its shadow. Her impact on you was monumental it broke your heart knowing she was on the list of victims to be met by yours, Amber’s, and Richie’s blades.

Blinking rapidly, you refocused your gaze on Tara and found she had already caught your gaze. Her eyebrows were sinched together in confusion and worry. You, being so lost in the beauty and unmistakable love you saw and felt from the girl, tears had begun to run down your face. Making you wipe them quickly, giving a forced smile and turning your attention back down to your drink.

But when you glanced over once more, you found Wes with her. Seeing him with her made something rise from the center of your chest and to your brain.  Lips pursing together as you looked forward and rolled your shoulders back, hands tightening their grasp on the glass cup.

“Wes.” Amber removed her gaze from the text messages between her and Richie. Looking at you in question as you press your tongue to the inside of your cheek. “Wes dies first and I kill him.”

That made Amber’s lips twist into a sick and evil grin, slinging her arm around your shoulder and shaking you encouragingly. “That’s what I like to hear.”

This isn’t wrong.

You weren’t crazy.

You had a motive that was more realistic than Richie’s or Amber’s.

There was a reason for your madness. A kindling flame that was given fuel to burn brighter and larger than before. If it didn’t happen now, it was bound to happen later down the line. And if you knew that, you knew you weren’t crazy. No one with a revenge plot gets labelled “crazy”, so why should you?

But now, sitting in front of Tara who cried silently under your masked gaze, you didn’t know what was right from wrong. Your morale compass was all kinds of fucked up and she was making this more difficult than it needed to be.

Richie and Amber were somewhere in Woodsboro causing mayhem after they told you to take Tara back to Amber’s house. The original house where Billy Loomis and Stu Macher had their final showdown. Coincidentally, the same place Sidney killed your father, her friend.

Not much of that could be bothered to be thought about as you stared at Tara, who cowered in the corner of the room. Her mouth was taped over and her wrist found the same fate. You toyed with your knife, the Ghostface mask hiding the conflict in your eyes and face as you fought with yourself over what to do. They wanted to kill her and in extension, that meant you did as well. But did you? Like, really? You could care less about anyone else besides maybe Samantha, but Gale and Sidney could bite the dust. Their time had passed and it was time to bring in the new generation.

Inhaling deeply, you gripped the handle of the knife in a reverse grip and stabbed it into the floor. The sound made Tara flinch with a cry as she closed her eyes. Hearing the heavy footsteps of your combat boots until they stopped. “Tara, look at me.” Doing as she was told, Tara slowly peeled her eyes open and felt her chest tighten at the sight of you. The mask taken off and your identity is finally revealed to her. Raising your hands, you carefully reached forward and undid the tape around her wrists. “I know you are likely going to run, so I’ll tell you that I have a gun and I will use it if I have to. But I don’t want to hurt you.”

The girl could only stare, so taking her silence as an answer, you finally ripped the final bit of the tape and instantly stepped back. Tara watched you closely, pulling the tape from her lips, allowing to her inhale deeply. “What are you doing, Y/n?”

A soft laugh fell from your lips, running a hand over your cornrows and clasping your gloved hands together. Only able to shrug as you looked up at her. “Doing what I think is right,” you replied. “I want you to know that before all of this, I didn’t want to hurt anyone besides Sidney Prescott. You were the one person I wanted to get hurt through this.”

“But you allowed this!” Tara exclaimed. “You allowed Amber to kill all these people! She tried to kill me, Y/n! She tried to kill Samantha!” You felt smaller than ever before. Feeling her scrutiny and disapproval hurt a lot more than what you’d felt before. Maybe it was because you’d been only exposed to the smiles and warm Tara Carpenter. But what else were you expecting besides an angry, disgusted, and fearful Tara Carpenter?

So, taking the gun from the back of your pants, you twisted the handle towards the girl. Sniffling and leaning forward, a blank look on your face with you allowed her to take it. “Safety’s on. Flip the switch on the side and you can kill me,” you stated. “You deserve to serve justice and help your sister.”

Tara stared at you in bewilderment. That was it? You were just giving up? With everything she’s experienced in the past few days, this felt way too easy. But if she peeled the layers of the situation, of you, then she connect the dots that led to reasoning. You were her friend. Or at least, that’s what she still believed. You were a soft soul. A complex character within the friend group that made you incredibly unique to the others. There were things about you that she only knew and would never tell a soul. You were a second home to her. You loved walks in the rain when most would consider it a danger. She’s loved you since pre-school and she believes that even now, you probably felt the same. Able to feel the same things as she was because you were you. You weren’t broken like Amber.

Taking the gun cautiously, Tara saw you place your hands on your thighs and let out a strangled sigh. Swallowing the lump in your throat, looking up at her to find her holding the gun, but never lifting it. “Don’t drag this on for too long, Tara,” you said. “Amber is going to be back soon and you’ll want to be out of the house before that happens.”

The longer she stared at you, the longer she felt her own conflict. Her lips wobbled as she began to lift the pistol, before letting out a shaky sigh and letting it fall to her side. “Fuck you. Fuck you for putting me in this situation,” she whispered. “God fucking damn it. Why? Why did you have to do it? Why did you have to kill?”

Holding her gaze, you let out a grunt, looking to the ground and clasping your hands together. “I could kill her,” you started. “I could’ve killed Sidney Prescott a long time ago for killing my dad. I could kill her and just walk away without regret in my mind. But that doesn’t make it easy or change anything. I can live with it.” Lips trembling you pressed a finger to your temple. “But there’s no peace up here. The pain and knowledge I can’t bring him back continue to pound in my head. It’s either I get locked up or I put a bullet through my head. There’s no sense of meaning without-”

You stopped yourself, puffing out breaths as you avoided the girl’s gaze. Bowing your head as you sniffled and swallowed the cement in the back of your throat. “There’s no sense of meaning without you.”

Saying it out loud, finally letting it be known, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Able to breathe easier without the endless hole in your chest being alleviated with some pure. Something you hadn’t felt in a very long time. And for you to tell it to Tara made the sense of death be more accepting than it had before. Because as long as she knew and understood how you felt, then you could be plunged into the endless abyss with a smile.

But the least you expected was to feel Tara’s hands grasp your face and her lips press against yours. You melted into it without a second delay. Hand reaching up and grasping her jaw, pulling her incredibly closer as you stood to your feet, towering over her. Forcing her to painfully stand up on her tippy toes. But she couldn’t care less about the heat that invaded her body from the kiss.

“Are you sure you want this?” You asked between kisses. “After everything I’ve done?”

“If this is my last night on Earth, I want to spend it with you.” Her words sent butterflies against the inside of your chest as you kissed her.

But this wouldn’t be her last night on Earth. You wouldn’t let that happen.

Hot breaths lingered and intermingled together. Tara’s arms were coiled around you, hands finding their place on the large expanse of your back. Nails dug into the black fabric of the cloak you wore, hiding the warmth of your hot skin that she wanted to taste on her lips. And your face was masked with the Ghostface. Not by your choice of course, but it was hidden in the crook of her neck.

Your hands held her hips, groans filling her ears with her pants entering your own ears. “I love you,” she whispered. “Fuck, I love you.”

Hearing the confession only spurred you on further. An open-lipped smile etched on your face as you pounded your hips into the girl. Feeling her gasp and dig deeper into the fabric surrounding your body. “I love you too.”

Reaching down, Tara took one of your hands and placed it on her stomach. The feeling of your cock creating a small noticeable bump made your ego grow. Enabling you to press down and thrust harder and faster. Earning a cry from the girl, head rolling back.

The prickling of her release rapidly approached. The sensation of euphoria filled her bone marrow and nerves as her legs curled around your waist. Helping plunge your cock into her and the action was enough to make your own release approach.

“Fuck, Tara.” You ripped the mask off your face, pressing a kiss to her lips. You swallowed her moan, feeling her walls clamp around your cock. Finally tossing you over the edge with your hips stuttering and slamming into Tara’s. Parting her lips with a moan, resting your forehead against hers. Body shaking with Tara smiling up at you. Exhaling sharply with your hips bucking into hers. Pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

If life was going to be this perfect, the idea of deviating from your plan was sounding more appealing. But the happiness and bliss could only last for so long. “Y/n!” Amber’s voice could be heard downstairs. “Time to greet our guests!” You glanced at the girl, seeing the once look of desire be replaced with fear.

This wouldn’t be her last night on Earth. You wouldn’t let that happen.

“You fucker, you betrayed us!” Richie grunted, battling with you to get ahold of the pistol. Tara was hidden somewhere in the house, Samantha was laid on the floor from a knife wound, whilst Gale and Sidney were dealing with a ballistic Amber in the kitchen.

“Switching sides is a bitch, huh?” You quipped, head-butting the man and kicking him in the stomach. He fell to the floor and you scrambled for the gun but stopped when feeling a knife being plunged into your side. A yell fell from your lips as another stab was placed in your back.

Swinging your elbow back, you hit Richie in the nose and knocked him off. Reaching for the gun, you rolled onto your side and shot him in the stomach. Richie cried, falling back and collapsing against the wall, allowing you to breathe. “Fucking psycho,” you muttered, painfully rising to your feet.

Richie held his interlocked hands over his stomach, blood seeping through the cracks. His face visibly paled at the copious amounts of blood leaving his body. “You stupid motherfucker,” he groaned. “Fucking ruined my movie. You could’ve just helped us and been a part of history! But you had to go and fuck it all up, you stupid fucking cunt-”

Another gunshot filled the air, Richie crying out as his shot leg trembled with his head slamming against the wall. “Motherfucker!”

“You fucking talk too much,” you breathed. “You and Amber are psychos–And so help me if you quote the movies I’m going to scalp you, you stupid fuck!”

Richie laughed, shaking his head with rapid breaths falling from his lips. “No, I have a better idea-” Without so much as a warning, he tossed the knife he had stabbed into your back into your stomach. A sharp exhale fell from your lips as your finger tensed around the trigger. Shooting Richie right in the head where he could finally stop his tirade and rot in hell.

You stumbled back, the gun slipping from your grasp. A guttural moan fell from your lips as one of your hands found the wall behind you. “Y/n!” The top half of your body became heavy as you lifted your gaze to the voice.

Your face was tense as you found Tara standing with her sister at the kitchen doorway. Looking down at your stomach, your hands shakily found their place around the knife wound before you stumbled back into the wall. Sliding down and leaning against the wall. Head wobbling as your chest fought to catch air into your lungs. Eyes fluttered as you inhaled shakily, groaning with your lips wobbling. Tasting the harsh metallic crimson on the bed of your tongue, trying to hold back a cough.

Tara came to your side, hands surrounding the knife to try and hold the blood in. “Y/n, you’re going to be okay,” she reassured shakily. “Just keep your eyes open. Don’t you dare close them!”

A groan could only be given in response as you stared at her. An unwavering look in your eyes as your lips slowly twitched in a smile. Eyes brimming with tears as your hands grasped hers. She looked up at you, whimpering when finding you crying. “Hey, don’t cry. You’re going to be alright. Just… Just keep your eyes on me.” She held your face, looking between your accepting eyes and the wound.

There was a pause in your actions, a sense of absolution with your mind beginning to clear. You slowly took in every little feature on her face. Eyes carefully flickering to each tidbit that had made you smile and get up in the morning. Not wanting to miss a single thing as you felt her vision clouded with exhaustion. Only offering a quiet, “I love you” before your head fell. The strength in your hands dissipates with Tara’s lips parting, hearing you let out a quiet exhale.

“Y/n?” She whispered, earning no response from your lifeless body. “Y/n?” She repeated, hands coming up to hold your face and finding your eyes empty. A husk that was once the light you brought into her world. Tears streamed down her face as she brought her lips to your forehead, choking on a sob.

“I love you.”