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rollingsins · 8 months

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Quinn Bailey Must Die, p3

P1 | P2 | P3

summary: Sam falls, a little harder. Tara formulates a plan. all hers universe.

warnings: (+18), Tara is (was) Ghostface, language. Implied sexual content.

pairing: tara carpenter x reader, sam carpenter x quinn bailey

word count: 4.3k

a/n: enjoy babes! let me know your thoughts, as always

Quinn’s touch scalds.

She’s all rough hands and wild lips, moving quicker than Sam’s alcohol-addled brain can keep up with.

Sam remembers moaning.

She remembers the fascination: soft, warm, wet.

She remembers Quinn looking over with heady eyes, and pressing the softest kisses to her lips before she drifts off to sleep.

And she remembers thinking: Tara’s going to kill me.

When Sam wakes, she immediately wishes she hadn’t.

It's like a knife through the brain. Dry lips, dry throat. Her neck aches, though she isn’t sure why.

And then she feels a very different ache, somewhere else.

Her eyes shoot open.

Memories flood back to her. The night. The wine. Quinn.

Fuck.

“Morning, you,” Quinn purrs as she nudges her head between Sam’s legs, “Thought I’d help myself to some breakfast.”

Sam panics.

She almost throws Quinn off the bed in her effort to retract, as if Quinn’s touch burns her.

“Stop.” Sam says, drawing her legs over the bed.

She stands, and then realizes she’s completely naked. Her cheeks burn, and she hastily reaches for her bathrobe. She tilts it around her body, arms crossed.

“Don’t get shy on me now, Sam,” Teases Quinn, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen already.”

“Fuck,” Sam says. She had it right last night: her sister is going to murder her, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Quinn sits up, a little uneasy.

“Okay,” Says Quinn, slowly, “Now you’re starting to hurt my feelings. What’s wrong? Sam? Talk to me.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Sam says, urgently. Her mind is racing faster than she can speak. Panic surges within her chest, revulsion burns deep in her stomach - though, in all fairness, that might be the hangover. She pushes it aside, “God, we shouldn’t have done this-”

Quinn tilts her head. A flash of hurt flickers through her features.

“Okay…” Says Quinn, “But we did. And it was amazing. Wasn’t it?”

It was.

But that’s neither here nor there.

“God, Quinn, that’s not the point-” Sam hisses. She touches her head, flinches at the pain coursing through her body, “We shouldn’t have slept together. I’m straight, for god’s sake-”

“Yeah,” Quinn says, narrowing her eyes, “You looked real straight last night with your fingers inside my-”

“It’s time to go, Quinn,” Sam interjects, “You’ve got to go before Tara sees you-”

“I’m not leaving you like this,” Quinn protests, reaching out to touch Sam’s arms. Sam flinches away.

“Sam-”

“Quinn.”

Quinn blinks.

“Stop it,” Sam snaps, “You need to go. Now. Right now. Get your clothes, you’re leaving.”

Quinn stares a moment.

“Fine,” She says, reaching for her shirt. She gets up, completely naked, and Sam averts her gaze.

Quinn stands for a moment and it looks like she wants to say something.

But she doesn’t.

Sam’s heart drops as she realizes what’s about to happen.

Quinn’s going to put on her clothes and go barging into Tara’s room.

Wave Sam around like a trophy she’s conquered.

A Carpenter sister, she’d brag, I finally got one.

Because that’s what this is, isn’t it?

But she doesn’t.

Quinn pulls her clothes on, eerily silent.

She leaves with a final mournful look towards Sam, and a quiet shut of the door.

Sam sighs with relief.

She drops the robe and heads back to bed and hopes when she wakes, this nightmare will be over.

It isn’t.

Tara’s looking at her a little funny when Sam finally emerges from her bedroom, near noon.

You’re sitting next to her, arm looped around her waist.

“Hey Sam,” You say, tilting your head, “How are you feeling?”

Sam looks over, a little confused, “How am I feeling?” She asks.

You tilt your head towards the empty wine bottle on the coffee table.

“You didn’t drink all that alone, did you?” You ask, question in your voice. Tara narrows her eyes. As if she stares at Sam hard enough, the truth will come spilling from her lips.

“I feel fine,” Sam lies, “How was your night?”

“It was a little hard to sleep,” Says Tara, with all the subtlety of a bulldozer, “With all the noise coming from your bedroom.”

Sam purses her lips.

“Guess you finally know how it feels, Tara,” Sam says, a little grouchy.

Tara folds her arms.

“Who’s the guy?” You ask, tilting your head, “Is he still here?”

Sam takes a long swig of water.

“Nope.” Is all she says.

You hum.

“It’s just… well, Tara and I- we didn’t think it sounded like there was a guy at all in there,” You say, treading carefully.

Sam freezes.

She looks over at you, trying to mask the guilt in her eyes.

“You think I just masturbated myself to sleep?” She asks, voice wry.

“Don’t be gross, Sam,” Tara snaps, “We know you were banging a chick. Who was she?”

“Tara,” You hiss, smacking her, “Subtle. We said subtle.”

Sam swallows.

You offer her a kind smile.

“You can tell us, Sam, there’s no judgment here,” You say, “We think it’s good you’re experimenting with your sexuality, isn’t that right, Tara?”

Tara looks over at you, aghast, “No,” She says, and then winces as your elbow juts between her rib, “Ow- babe-”

“It’s just- we wanted to check that person isn’t Quinn Bailey,” You interject, hurriedly, “Because we love you, Sam, and we don’t want her taking advantage of you.”

Sam sighs, heart in her throat.

You’ve got her now, she knows. Because who else would it be?

“Girls,” She tries to steer, “I can look after myself. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“That isn’t a denial,” Tara says, flatly, like she’s caught her, “Sam, please tell me you’re not serious. Please tell me you haven’t completely lost your mind.”

“Tara, it doesn’t have anything to do with you,” Sam says, “Leave it alone, please?”

Tara huffs, frustrated.

“It has everything to do with me,” She says, “Your poor dating choices already got me stabbed once, remember?”

She lifts up her shirt to punctuate her point. The car from where Richie had stabbed her trawls along her abdomen.

“I’m not dating Quinn,” Sam says, with a roll of her eyes, “I was feeling lonely last night and I made a mistake. Okay? Happy?”

“No, not happy,” Says Tara, “I want you to cut ties with her, Sam. I want you to tell her you won’t tutor her anymore.”

Sam grits her teeth.

“That’s not going to happen, Tara,” Sam says.

“Make it happen, then Sam,” Tara insists, “I mean it. You’re banned from seeing her.”

Sam’s eyebrows fly into her hairline.

You shift, then sigh.

“I’m banned from seeing her?” Sam asks, lips curled, “Banned?”

Tara nods.

“You heard me,” She says.

Sam refrains from laughing.

Instead, she reaches into the kitchen cabinet for an aspirin. She retrieves an empty bottle and sighs.

“I’m going to CVS,” She says, with a mumble.

“Sam,” Tara says, “Promise me.”

“No, Tara,” Sam says, “Back off, alright? I don’t tell you what to do with your love life. Don’t tell me what to do with mine.”

She grabs her coat, and slings it over her shoulders.

Tara’s hands ball into a fist.

“She’s using you. You have to know that, right?” Tara calls as Sam walks out the door, “You’re her consolation prize.”

Sam slams the door.

And you round on Tara.

You smack her, lightly, across the arm.

“Ow.”

Tara looks up at you with wide eyes.

“This is your fault.” You hiss.

“My fault?” She asks, in disbelief, “My fault?”

“I told you to be nicer to your sister and now look at what you’ve done. You pushed her right into Quinn’s arms!”

You reach out to smack her again.

Tara pulls back, outraged.

“That girl is like a piranha, you said it yourself,” She says, voice hot, “Sam could be a nun and married to Jesus Christ himself and Quinn would have still have her face down in the pews of some church.”

You blink.

“Oh,” You say, “Is that right? She’s that irresistible, is she Tara?”

Tara groans.

“Don’t turn this on me, baby,” She whines, “I karate-d her for you, remember?”

You let out a puff of warm air, arms crossed.

Tara looks over at you, a little helpless.

“What do we do?” She asks.

You sigh.

“I’m not sure we can do anything,” You admit, “Sam already knows everything. And… she’s kind of right, Tara. You can’t ban her from seeing Quinn.”

Tara looks over, a little unhappy.

“That’s unhelpful, babe,” Tara says, “I need you to go into psycho mode. Like when Quinn was hitting on me.”

It’s your turn to glare.

“I did not go into psycho mode,” You say, voice hot, “You were the one who put her in a headlock.”

Tara sits down, shoulders tight.

“Somehow I don’t think putting her in a headlock is going to keep her away from Sam.”

You settle down next to her, rub her arm.

“Look,” You say, with a sigh, “You’re right, Quinn’s using her. And Sam will see that, eventually. She said it herself - it was a mistake. Maybe we don’t have to do anything.”

Tara huffs.

“Quinn’s going to hurt her, YN,” She says, “Like Richie did. Sam’s never had a you. Just shit-head boyfriends who break her heart.”

You take her hand. Ignore the inappropriate flutter that settles in your belly at her words.

Tara thinks, hard.

“We need a plan.” She decides.

“Tara-” You protest, but Tara jerks away from you, the expression on her face final.

“Babe, you told me to be nicer to Sam and so I’m doing it,” Tara says, “I’m going to protect her. From that - walking bear trap.”

“Tara, I meant saying please and thank you,” You say, pointedly, “I meant you not icing her out over stupid arguments.”

“This is better than that,” Tara insists, “Anyone can say please, only a sister can stop you making the worst decision of your life. Please, babe. We have to do this. For Sam.”

You sigh.

Quinn Bailey is a menace. You’ve seen it first hand. And you love Sam. You don’t want to see her hurt anymore than Tara.

“Fine,” You say, a little reluctantly, “For Sam.”

Tara presses a quick kiss to your lips and then pulls back, looking determined.

“Operation Kill Quinn Bailey,” She suggests.

“No,” You say, “Absolutely not. You’re not-”

“Not for real, babe,” Tara says, “Metaphorically. Operation Metaphorically Kill Quinn Bailey.”

“It’s a little wordy,” You say, eyeing her.

Tara thinks a moment.

“Operation Quinn Bailey Must Die,” She says, finally, “Like that dumb movie you like, babe.”

“Operation Quinn Bailey Must Die,” You repeat, with a grumble, “How come every movie I like is dumb and every movie you like is a masterpiece?”

“We can’t all have great taste, babe,” She teases, and then stands up, looking stern.

“If we have a plan, then we need a team,” She says, whipping out her phone, “I’ll call for backup.”

Quinn’s not in the library at eight.

Sam tilts her head and watches the entrance, frowning slightly.

They hadn’t spoken - not since that morning, though given their last encounter - it shouldn’t surprise Sam.

Persistent, is Sam’s view of Quinn, doesn’t give up. Ever.

And yet here she is sitting in the library alone.

Sam pulls out her cellphone and calls Quinn’s line.

It rings once, then twice, before dialing out.

Sam pinches her eyebrows together. And tries to ignore the sinking pit in the bottom of her stomach.

She had been kind of mean. She’d all but thrown Quinn out of the house in a panic.

But before she can marinate on that thought, Quinn’s name is flashing across the screen of her phone.

“Hello?” Sam answers, far too quickly.

Quinn’s quiet a moment.

“Hi, Sam.” She says.

“Where are you?” Sam asks, checking her watch, “We said eight every night.”

“I figured you didn’t want to see me, anymore,” Says Quinn, “Not after last night.”

Sam pauses.

“Last night was…” She hesitates, “A mistake. But it doesn’t have to get in the way of your tutoring.”

Quinn sighs.

“I think it already has,” She says, “Bye, Sam.”

And then she hangs up.

Sam cooks dinner, feeling a little glum.

Last night had been a mistake. She didn’t expect it to go so far, with Quinn.

For all accounts - Quinn refusing to tutor with her should be a good thing.

Right?

Instead, Sam feels as if she’s just been dumped.

“Are you alright, Sam?” You ask, leaning over the kitchen counter, “You seem… a little down.”

“Fine,” Sam answers, transferring the salmon onto the plates, “Could you please get Tara for dinner?”

Dinner’s awkward.

Sam knows Tara wants to say something. She’s fizzing in her seat, barely touching her food. Look of contemplation on her face like she wants to say something that might get her in trouble.

Sam sighs.

“Tara, just say it,” She says, sounding tired.

Tara crosses her arms.

“I think I said all I needed to say this morning.” She says, eyes narrowed.

“Perfect,” Says Sam, “Are you going to eat?”

Tara thinks.

“I just want to know, Sam,” She says, “Do you seriously think Quinn slept with you for any other reason than to get back at me?”

You touch her arm.

Sam sighs.

She drops her fork.

“If you must know, Quinn doesn’t want to see me anymore,” Sam says, with a growl, “Not after I kicked her out this morning. So, I guess you got your wish, Tara.”

Tara blinks.

You reach out to touch Sam’s hand, “Sam, I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine,” Says Sam, “Can we please just eat and stop talking about Quinn Bailey?”

“Alright.” Tara says, voice even.

She tilts her head.

“This food is… good, Sam.” Tara says, voice a little gruff.

You side eye her.

Sam looks up.

“You haven’t even had a bite.” She says, pointedly.

Tara scoops up a mouthful of Salmon and chews it, somewhat obnoxiously.

“Good,” She says, mouth full “Really, good, Sam.”

You rub her arm.

Bless her for trying, even if her attempt is a little unnatural.

But Sam’s in a bad mood, clearly.

She stands, quite abruptly.

“I’m just going to eat in my room, I think,” She says, after a moment, her eyes sad, “I’ll see you guys later.”

She takes her plate, and you just watch her go. Shoulders tight, lips pursed.

You sigh as Sam quietly shuts the door, rubbing your eyes.

But Tara looks pleased.

“Operation Quinn Bailey Must Die is a success,” She says, happily when you shoot a look over at her, “Don’t give me that look, babe, you know you’re happy too.”

You consider this.

Quinn cutting ties with Sam is probably the best of all the outcomes, regardless of Sam’s mood.

“I suppose,” You say, and bite your lip, “Be extra nice to Sam this week, okay babe? Why don’t we cook for her tomorrow night? Make her feel special.”

Tara nods.

“Alright babe,” She says, pressing a kiss to your lips, “Anything for you.”

She thinks for a moment.

“And for Sam.”

Sam toils overnight.

Sleep doesn’t come easily, tossing and turning and throwing pillows against the wall in her frustration.

Near three, she picks up her phone.

Sam doesn’t know if it’s the lack of sleep, or the burning sadness in the pit of her stomach - but whatever it is, dials for her.

“Sam?” Quinn asks, a little groggy, “Are you okay?”

She shifts, and Sam just blinks into the darkness.

“Sam, it’s three AM, what’s wrong?” Asks Quinn, with a little more urgency.

“I-“ Sam says, and she pinches her eyebrows together, “Sorry. Nothing's wrong. I just… wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay,” Says Quinn slowly, “About tutoring? Because, Sam-“

“Not about tutoring,” Sam says, “About… the other thing.”

Quinn pauses.

“The sex thing?” She asks.

“Were you sleeping with me because you couldn’t have my sister?” Sam asks, unable to keep the thought to herself any longer.

Quinn huffs.

“Fuck you, Sam,” She says, “Fuck you.”

“That’s not an answer,” Says Sam. Her nails dig into the skin of her thighs, a little fearful of the answer.

“No,” Says Quinn, “I wasn’t sleeping with you because I couldn’t have Tara. Happy?”

Sam blinks.

“I don’t know if I believe you,” She says, swallowing.

“Then don’t believe me,” Says Quinn, voice flat, “It’s not like we’ll see each other anymore anyway. Goodnight Sam-“

“Don’t hang up,” Sam whispers.

Quinn pauses.

Sam closes her eyes, the blood rushing to her ears.

Quinn is a question mark. But Sam’s lonely and sad and she knows there’s only one thing that will get her to sleep tonight.

“Would you come over?”

You wake up to Tara between your legs, smiling down at you devilishly.

“Morning baby,” She says, smile wry, “I dreamt about you.”

You sigh as Tara presses her lips to your neck, her hands moving down to run down the length of your thighs.

“And what was I doing in this dream?” You ask, voice husky.

Tara smirks.

“You were on your hands and knees,” Says Tara, “Which is where you’ll be in about thirty seconds-“

Your stomach flips. Your mouth falls open.

Tara smiles, and takes your stunned silence as an opportunity to pull your sleep shorts down your legs.

Arousal floods through you.

You take her lips in a searing kiss, pulling her shirt over her head.

And then you hear a moan.

You pause, retracting from Tara, slightly.

She’s confused too, tilts her head to figure out if she’s heard wrong.

But then you hear another moan.

This is a moan you know.

One you’ve had the unfortunate experience of hearing before.

It’s Quinn Bailey.

“Motherfucker.” Tara swears, and her attention is no longer on you.

She grabs her shirt, cheeks flushed in anger as she climbs out of bed.

This time it’s Sam who moans.

You groan, falling back into the bed.

“How has this happened?” Tara asks, running a hand through her messy hair, “We go to sleep and Sam’s done with her, and then we wake up and Sam’s doing her.”

“Let’s not overreact-” You attempt, but Tara huffs, shaking her head and pacing up and down your tiny room.

“Relax, baby,” You say, trying to pull her back down. She’s glaring at the wall between the bedrooms as if it might melt. Potentially take Quinn in the process.

“Why don’t we go to brunch?” You suggest, biting your lip, “We can go to that little place that does the Mickey Mouse waffles you like.”

“Now is not the time for brunch,” Tara growls, “I’m going to go downstairs and pull the fire alarm.”

“That’s illegal,” You say, holding her arm to stop her standing, “Not to mention ridiculous. You can’t stop Sam having sex, Tara.”

“I don’t care about Sam having sex, babe, I care that’s it with Quinn.”

She looks over at you, a little helpless.

“What do we do?”

Sam moans from the next room. Quinn grunts. Your bedroom table shakes, slightly. Tara looks as though she might punch a hole in the wall and drag Quinn through by her hair.

You rub her back.

“Come on, don’t stress about it,” You say, pressing a kiss to her cheek. And then you think.

“Why don’t we do that thing you’ve been wanting to do?” You suggest, biting your lip.

You had been saving it for a special occasion.

But right now it’s the only thing you can think of to take Tara’s mind off Quinn and Sam.

Tara shakes you off, looking stressed.

“Babe, you want me to fuck you in the ass while my sister is getting nailed by Quinn Bailey in the next room?” She asks, agitated.

You sigh.

“I suppose not,” You mumble. And then you stand.

“Come on, Operation Quinn Bailey Must Die is back on,” You say with a grumble as a particularly loud chorus of moans sounds from Sam’s room, “Let’s rally the troops. They’ll be done when we get back. Surely.”

“You told her to what?” Tara hisses, across the table of the diner you’re all crammed around. Her Mickey Mouse waffles remain untouched.

You have a hand on the small of her back, trying to calm her racing heartbeat.

And so far it isn’t working.

Mindy, Liv and Chad are here to help enact her operation.

The ‘Ghostface Hunters’, Mindy had called you.

The ‘Quinn Killers’ Tara had corrected.

“You told her to sleep with Quinn?” Tara says, aghast.

Mindy huffs.

“I didn’t think she’d actually do it,” Groans Mindy, “I thought Sam was strictly dickly.”

“Never underestimate the charms of beautiful woman,” Says Liv, quite seriously and Chad nods, “If I didn’t have Chad, I’d probably sleep with her too.”

Chad smiles, as if the thought is appealing to him.

You roll your eyes.

“Why is everyone going goo-goo-ga-ga for her, she’s not even that pretty,” You huff.

“It’s not about being pretty, YN,” Says Mindy, with a shrug, “It’s a confidence thing. Women like being pursued. Quinn’s good at pursuing. The world’s her oyster.”

“Back to Sam,” You say with a huff, “What’s the plan? We need her to know Quinn is using her.”

“Why don’t we just tell her?” Asks Chad, looking confused.

Tara huffs.

“Thanks genius,” She says, “We already tried that, obviously.”

“We could plant drugs in her backpack to get her kicked out of NYU.” Suggests Liv, happily, “Chad knows a guy.”

“Let’s try to keep things legal.” You intervene, hastily.

Chad furrows his brow.

“If it’s Tara she wants, why don’t we just give it to her?” He says, after a long moment.

You blink.

Bile rises from your stomach and settles in the back of your throat.

“Excuse me?” You ask, voice a little hot.

“It’s not a terrible idea,” Says Mindy, “We know Quinn wants Tara, right? And that’s the only reason she’s going for Sam?”

Chad and Liv both nod.

You cross your arms.

“Yeah, so? She’s not getting Tara.” You say with a bite.

Mindy rolls her eyes.

“And she won’t YN, relax.” Mindy says, “But if she thinks she might have a shot with Tara- then boom! We send her a few flirty text messages, get her to agree to send some back and send the evidence to Sam.”

Tara thinks.

“Isn’t that a bit mean-spirited?” You ask. The thought of your girlfriend sending sexy texts to anyone who isn’t you has you feeling like you want to punch something, “If Sam actually likes this girl, she’s going to be heartbroken.”

“Better her be heartbroken now than before she has time to actually fall for Quinn,” Mindy says with a shrug, “What do you say?”

Tara looks over at you.

“It’s not the worst idea, babe,” She says, with a murmur, “I mean, if it proves to Sam Quinn isn’t serious about her, what can it hurt?”

“I don’t want you sending nudes to other girls,” You say, voice tight, “I don’t care if it isn’t real.”

“Not nudes, babe,” Tara assures, “Just messages. Mindy can send them from my phone. That way it isn’t even me.”

The group is looking at you, a little expectant.

“Maybe we should revisit the drugs.” You say, trying to quell the raging tide of fire within your chest.

Tara kisses you.

“You asked me to look out for Sam,” She says, “This is me doing it. This is me protecting my sister.”

Her eyes are wide, like the chocolate buttons scattered across her Mickey Mouse waffles.

“Please?” She asks.

You sigh.

“Fine,” You agree, but you’re not overly happy about it, “Mindy sends them. I don’t want you talking to her.”

“Deal,” Says Tara, and she seals it with a kiss, “We’re going to get rid of this sex-pest once and for all.”

“Should we do it now?” Asks Chad, “While Sam’s still with her? With any luck, she’ll see the message.”

“No,” Says Mindy, “It’s too obvious. We need her alone. If Quinn knows Sam’s around she won’t bite.”

“She’ll bite,” Liv promises, “Tara is hot.”

It’s Tara’s turn to rub your back.

You shoot a deathly glare to Liv.

“To gay girls,” Liv clarifies quickly, “She’s hot to girls who are into that.”

“This will be good, babe,” Tara says, pressing her lips to the shell of your ear, “For Sam. This will be good for Sam.”

When Quinn’s finally done with her, Sam is a sweating, heaving mess.

Her body aches, pleasantly. Quinn nestles into her side, tugs Sam’s comforter around both of their bodies. And then presses a lingering kiss to her neck.

“Is this going to be us?” Quinn asks, voice a tease, “I’m your midnight booty call?”

Sam hesitates.

“Sorry,” She says, “I’ve never done this before. Not with a girl.”

Quinn’s lips purse.

“Me neither,” She assures, voice soft, “But I think we’re getting the hang of it.”

Sam hums.

“My sister thinks you’re using me.” She says.

Quinn sighs.

“I know,” She says, “I know she’s your sister and all, but I think she thinks a little too highly of herself.”

Quinn looks up at Sam, blue eyes wide.

“I fuck a lot of guys,” She says, voice soft, “But I don’t often fuck them twice.”

She lets it hang.

Sam frowns.

“I don’t know what that means.” Sam admits.

Quinn laughs.

“It means you must be special,” Quinn says, “Tara? I would have slept with her once.”

Sam crinkles her nose.

Quinn grips her hips.

“I would have slept with her once and then dodged her calls,” Says Quinn, “Because she didn’t mean anything to me. None of them mean anything to me.”

“But I do?” Sam asks, voice skeptical.

Quinn smiles.

“You do,” She says. She leans up, takes Sam’s lips in a soft kiss, “I promise.”

Sam isn’t sure.

This is all new to her; the girl, the girl-sex, the fact that this girl wanted her sister before she ever laid eyes on Sam.

But Quinn’s eyes are round, her grip on Sam is tight.

Her words sound honest.

It’s been so long since Sam’s had someone be honest with her.

And so Sam closes her eyes.

And lets Quinn encompass her.

#all hers #qbmd #scream #scream vi #scream v #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x yn #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #ghostface!tara #mine #fanfic

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auras-moonstone · 10 months

Text

mad woman — ethan landry (part six)

word count: 804

pairing: ethan landry x gf!fem!reader

summary: the moment y/n and the kirsch family had been waiting for finally arrived. will they succeed?

previous part ; epilogue

THE PLAN WAS THAT Y/N SHOULD NOT REVEAL SHE WAS THE KILLER THE SAME TIME AS THE THREE KIRSCHES. They needed the Carpenter sisters to trust her, just in case something went wrong and they managed to escape. So, Y/N had to pull an Oscar award worthy performance throughout the whole revealing and chasing scene.

But the time she had been waiting for finally came. Tara, Sam and her had climbed the stairs to the second floor and Tara almost fell from the railing if Y/N hadn’t caught her.

“Fuck, Tara. I can’t… my hands” Y/N said, looking at her hands, covered a crimson red—Kirby’s blood.

“It’s okay… let me go” the black-haired girl said.

“Are you crazy?” Sam said, from next to them. She had her knife extended towards Quinn, who was slowly cornering them.

“Trust me, Sam” her sister said in a confident tone.

“Take this” Y/N said, giving Tara her knife. The latter nodded, and Y/N finally let go.

Tara fell, and Ethan stabbed her in the stomach “Gotcha!”.

The girl grabbed the knife her friend gave her and went to stab the brunette boy in the throat. It was a surprise to her when Ethan just smiled jokingly, and no blood came out. She took the knife out, and frowned when she saw it was fake. It was a retractable knife—she had been played.

“My girlfriend’s quite the actress, isn’t she?” Ethan smirked.

Unbeknownst to the revelation that happened downstairs, Sam looked at Y/N and subtlety signalled her head to the gun that was lying a few feet away from her. Y/N nodded in understanding.

“Do you really think you’re going to get away with this, Quinn?” Sam asked, hoping to distract the red-head while her friend took the gun.

“Actually, yeah. I’m very optimistic about this” Quinn replied with a cynic smile.

“We are two against one right now” Sam continued.

Quinn let out a laugh “Are you sure about that?” Y/N quickly grabbed the gun, stood behind Sam and pointed it to her head. “What a fucking plot-twist, right?”.

“Now, let’s join your sister, Sam. I’m letting you see her once more before they kill you, just because I’m feeling generous right now” Y/N said. “Hi, Tara! Did my knife come in handy?”.

“That was amazing thinking, love” Ethan told her, proud smile painted on his handsome face.

“Thanks, Eth” she blew him a kiss.

“You two are really perfect for each other” Tara said, clutching her stomach in pain.

“Thanks! We actually owe that to you two, wanting you dead has brought us together” Y/N said with a smile.

“You are mad!” Tara told her.

“You made me like that!” Y/N yelled in anger “And you know what I should do? I should gut your sister right in front of you, just like you did with Amber. But lucky for you, she’s not mine to kill. That’s their job” she said, pushing Sam towards Bailey and Quinn. “You on the other hand…” she said walking towards her, pressing the wound with her shoe, making her scream in pain “I’m going to take my time with you… cause you took everything from me”.

Ethan took a knife from under his cloak and gave it to Y/N “This is your sister’s”.

Y/N smiled gratefully before placing a kiss on his cheek, while adding more pressure to Tara’s wound “Thank you, babe”.

“Do you have to act all lovey dovey all the time?” Quinn groaned in frustration.

“Sorry, back to business” Y/N said, kneeling next to Tara, who let out a cry while Sam screamed “Don’t be sad, girls. You’ll be seeing each other again in a couple of minutes”.

Y/N didn’t waste any more time, and dig her knife on Tara’s stomach, just where Ethan had previously stabbed her. “This is not even half the pain you all caused to my sister”.

“She deserved it” Tara managed to say in between sobs.

“You think you’re badass, don’t you? Don’t you know that if you poke the bear, the claws will come out?” Y/N gritted her teeth as she spoke, dragging the knife upwards. Tara’s scream resonated on the room. “Oh, look what you made me do, Tara. It could have all been a little less… gory if you had kept your mouth shut”.

“Get over with it, kid” Y/N heard Bailey said. She took a look at the three people in front of her. Sam was laying a few feet away, lifeless.

“I’ll let you join your sister now. Bye, Tara” and with one stab in the heart, the only Carpenter sister left stopped breathing.

“Are you okay?” Ethan asked her, helping her up.

Y/N wrapped her arms around her boyfriend “Perfectly fine, Eth” He smiled and kissed her temple—they had done it, they had survived and succeed.

author’s note: that was the last part of the mad woman series🥺 i know it was short compared to other parts, i just think that it was useless to keep the original revealing scene because we all already know the motive.

i also wrote the epilogue, which will be out tomorrow! expect a very romantic chapter because i’m a hopeless romantic even when i’m writing about two psychos!

tags: @marauders3 @multi-simp-page

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