#scream vi tara
Text
SINBOUND (G!P)
tara carpenter x reader
tags. mdni, +18 only! no ghostface au, reader has a dick but no pronous were used, 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.
word count. 5358
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.
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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.”
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Second Best - Tara Carpenter
Summary: It used to be Tara and you against the world, but now you can't remember the last time she'd ever put you first.
Warnings: Fem!Reader, brief weed mention, alcohol, mentions of throwing up, angst
Word Count: 4.8k
a/n: Part two, anyone?
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 (alternate ending)
Everybody knew that you would always be by Tara Carpenter's side. Her friends, her family, and even Tara herself. Especially Tara.
When the girl's sister left home without explanations shortly after their father, and when Christina Carpenter began what would become a long battle with alcoholism, you were there for the younger Carpenter. You held her in your arms as she cried, unsure of herself, confessing between sobs that she felt cursed, as everyone she loved eventually left.
You were already friends, of course, but from that moment on, you had made a powerful oath that almost felt like it had been signed in blood. You would never be like the others. You would never leave Tara alone.
She smiled at your promise and allowed you to wipe away her tears with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. It was such a small gesture, but just catching a glimpse of her dimples made you consider that promise like the words of the Bible. Little things about Tara always made your heart race and brightened your world. You eagerly awaited every day for a fleeting sight of the girl's smile, and a part of you dimmed on the days you didn't see it.
It was evident that you were in love with Tara, perhaps even more than that, as the feeling was so intense that it could hardly be described with words. However, your relationship with her was also driven by your devotion. You never made any mention of what you felt for her, too scared to even consider the idea of confessing your love and facing potential rejection, which could eventually lead to the downfall of such a perfect friendship. Yet, your love language was well expressed in the everyday actions you did for her.
It was very obvious, so much so that even Mindy had noticed. Your smart friend Mindy, who had noticed how you looked at Tara like a lost puppy and always catered to her wishes. Your observant friend Mindy, who had also noticed how Tara didn't seem to do even half of the same for you.
She talked to you about it with the best intentions, but still, you had to discuss it with Tara. How could you not? Tara was your best friend! Keeping something like that from her would be almost like a betrayal! And the young Carpenter girl obviously felt uncomfortable with Mindy's statement, finding it completely absurd.
"She must be jealous of us!" Tara said defensively, crossing her arms. Her hair gently moved to the side as she huffed. "Yeah! That's it. She probably just envies not having someone as close to her as we are."
You didn't mention how Mindy had a twin brother who literally was always with her because there was no need. Tara must be right, as usual. Instead, you just nodded in agreement and volunteered to make more popcorn for your movie night.
That doesn't mean the words of the Meeks-Martin girl simply vanished from your mind. Everybody knew that you would always be by Tara Carpenter's side, but would Tara Carpenter always be by your side?
_
I'm boreddd.
Wanna do something?
It was 11pm when Tara sent you this message, the notification ding echoing through the walls of your quiet and currently calm dorm room. You took your eyes off the book you were studying, and a sigh escaped your lips as you read the words on the notification bar. It was almost midnight, and even though the next day was a Saturday, you didn't feel like leaving the college dorm and taking 2 subways to get to the Carpenters' apartment.
Especially because things had been weird since the events in Woodsboro.
You looked around to avoid the phone screen, as if that would make the message disappear along with your dilemma. The room was dark, except for the lamp lit on your desk, and you had planned to relax and watch an interesting movie, taking advantage of the fact that your roommate had gone to some fraternity party.
But it was still Tara. Even after what happened, it was still Tara, and you could never say no to the girl.
Defeated by your own feelings, you picked up your phone and thought for a few seconds before typing something decent in response.
Sure. I'll be there in 30.
You barely had time to get up from the chair when someone started calling you, the saved contact name indicating that it was your best friend. With a sigh and a grimace, you answered, quickly putting the call on speaker and placing the phone on the table so you could get ready more quickly.
"Tara?" You called out as you searched for some nicer clothes in your wardrobe. "I just sent you a message, okay? I'll be there in 30."
"No! Don't come here!" The girl answered with an urgent tone that sparked your concern. Was something happening at the apartment? you thought. Before you could let go of the shirt in your hands to get the phone, she continued speaking. "I thought we could go out? There's a party happening near campus, a guy from my class invited me."
Feeling a bit more relieved now that you knew nothing was wrong, your brain caught onto what you well recognized as Tara's sheepish tone. Your "spidey sense" for trouble seemed to be buzzing when you thought of a specific detail. "Did Sam allow you to go? At this hour of the night? To a party?"
Since the massacre last year, the dynamics in everyone's normal lives had obviously undergone some changes, but perhaps the biggest of all was the role Sam had come to play in Tara's life, as the adult presence she had always needed. Unfortunately, the younger Carpenter didn't seem too thrilled about it.
It was clear that she was more than happy to have her older sister back; that wasn't the issue. The problem was that Tara had gotten used to essentially raising herself. She didn't have a curfew, nor did she have someone breathing down her neck about her grades; she simply made the best decisions for herself and enjoyed the freedom of not having anyone hold her accountable for anything.
You knew Tara well enough to understand that this was driving her crazy. She wanted to change, wanted to move forward and not have to look back and face the horrors she endured, but she also didn't want anything to change. You knew, more than anything, that Tara didn't want anything to have changed.
Maybe that's why she never brought up the things she had said.
The girl's voice on the other end of the line snapped you out of your thoughts. "She took a shift at a bar. If we go now, we can be back before she even notices I'm gone."
"I don't know, Tara," You scratched your neck, trying to convey your skepticism in your voice. "What if she finds out? She'll be furious, and God knows I'm terrified of your sister."
"Oh, come on. If anything happens, I'll be the only one she gets mad at. Besides, Sam loves you. I dare to say she loves you more than she loves me."
Despite Tara's playful tone when saying those words, you pondered their meaning. It was true that within your group of friends, Sam considered you the most responsible and felt a sense of gratitude for your efforts in protecting Tara while she was away. It was painful to admit, but perhaps it was true that Sam loved you more than Tara did.
Especially because Tara was the one who replaced you. Not Sam.
"Come on, please!" The Carpenter girl tried again. "It'll be fun! Mindy and Chad are meeting us there!"
"Oh." You paused, a bad feeling spreading through your chest. "Do they already know about the plan?"
Tara laughed, as if you had made a joke. "Of course. I talked to you last because I knew it would be harder to convince you."
A bitter taste lingered on your tongue. There was no reason for you to have thought that Tara might want you to accompany her to the party alone, but the truth was that you could never control your wishful thinking that maybe, one day, she could see you as something more than just a friend.
But, of course, you hadn't been Tara's first choice for anything in a long time.
Still, your irrational love made you choose Tara every time. "Okay. Send me the address."
With the call ended and a notification with the address of the party, you ruffled your hair in frustration and decided to focus on choosing at least a presentable outfit for a night filled with loud sounds, bright lights, questionable drinks, and even more questionable people.
Your eyes were fixed on options of shirts, pants, and dresses, but your mind seemed determined to remind you of the same thoughts that kept you awake at night. Why were you still subjecting yourself to this? Even after what happened last year?
You remembered it had started gradually. Tara and Amber's friendship. It used to be just conversations about common interests, gossip about annoying people at school, and the usual teenage life complaints. You were still Tara's best friend, still the person she sought at the end of the day.
Suddenly, it was taken away from you. Tara and Amber seemed to grow closer, and people started to see them as a single entity. Amber became included in everything you and your friends did, and Tara's presence became scarcer in your life as she had more and more commitments with the dark-haired girl.
You became a secondary thought for Tara, as if your strong friendship meant nothing. As if your promises meant nothing. When the two of them started a relationship, then you knew you had no chance of getting your Tara back.
Still, out of love and consideration for her, you decided to stay. You still had the same group of friends, anyway, and you didn't want the atmosphere to become awkward or any friendships to be broken. You continued to do your best for Tara even if she didn't know or even acknowledge you the way she once did.
Every now and then, you think about how it could have spared you a lot if you had distanced yourself at that moment.
With your chosen outfit and an immense desire to give up, you left home and began to make your way to the party location. It wasn't too far, so you could walk, but the dimly lit streets and the silence of the late hour left your nerves on edge.
Fear had always been a constant emotion in your life. Fear of people judging your sexuality, of Tara discovering what you felt for her, of Tara growing tired of you. Eventually, this fear escalated to the fear of being killed by a maniac who wanted to kill you and all your friends with a knife.
Oh, sweet memories.
The thump of some music booming from a speaker made your walk feel a little less lonely. You began to hear the sounds and see the lights of the party as you approached the house. There were people dancing on the sidewalk with bottles in hand, and others sitting on the front stairs, passing a joint from hand to hand and laughing at absolutely nothing.
You glanced through the open window, and a hint of panic struck you as you realized the immense crowd of people packed together. How the hell were you going to find your friends like this?
Taking a deep breath, you decided to get it over with and entered the house, looking around for at least one familiar face. You tried to make your way through the people shouting and dancing together, elbowing some and pushing others. No one seemed to care anyway, being more interested in enjoying the moment.
Fortunately, your salvation came in the form of Mindy Meeks-Martin, who spotted you from her place on the couch and raised her hand for you to see. You approached your friend and you could see that next to her was an unfamiliar girl. She had shoulder-length hair with platinum highlights at the tips, and a cute face. The two seemed to be sitting close to each other, but you decided not to comment on it. Mindy would tell you eventually if this was going to be something.
"I can't believe she actually convinced you to come," Your friend commented, raising the red plastic cup in her hand in a greeting, along with her trademark sarcastic smile. "Have a little self-respect, y/n."
"Ugh. You're annoying." You rolled your eyes and looked between the two girls sitting in front of you. "So... who are you?"
The unknown girl smiled kindly and waved. "Anika. Nice to meet you."
"She's from one of my classes," Mindy quickly explained, and you noticed her hand hovering over Anika's shoulder before giving a casual nod and starting to look around for a certain person.
Realizing your thoughts were elsewhere, the twin sighed and nodded her head in a direction. "She's in the kitchen. You know, you should have some fun before you start your babysitting duties."
You smiled and began to turn. "If I wanted to have fun, I wouldn't be here. You know that." With that, you gave a final wave to the two girls and headed to the place you could now identify as the kitchen.
Being in a fraternity house, you hadn't expected to find an organized and clean room in the midst of a party, but you also didn't expect it to be this bad. Plastic cups were scattered on the floor, spilling liquids you couldn't identify, some couples were kissing, including one that was making out on the countertop full of empty bottles and crushed chip bags.
The strong smell of alcohol, smoke, and even sweat irritated your nostrils, but at least the light was bright enough for you to see what was in front of you. This allowed you to witness the exact moment when a certain girl, no more than 150cm tall, ran out of the room with her hand covering her mouth.
Muttering a curse, you sprinted after her, praying that at least she could make it to the bathroom before throwing up. You knew how Tara was at parties. Weak with alcohol but stubborn enough to keep drinking even knowing she was pushing her limits.
You still remembered the first time this happened. Amber had thrown another one of her parties, and this time, Tara was determined to drink everything she could, claiming it would be fun. You had declined her request for you to do the same, arguing that someone needed to stay sober enough to make sure the house didn't catch fire, but in reality, you just wanted to make sure you could take care of Tara if necessary.
As predicted, she drank so much that she spent 20 minutes puking in the bathroom. She asked you a few times not to worry, that Amber would show up soon to take care of her, but the girl didn't appear until the end of the party. In the meantime, you took her place, holding Tara's hair back and getting water to prevent her from getting dehydrated.
You had always been there to take care of Tara, and yet...
The flashbacks from that day gave you a sense of déjà vu as you did the same thing, but at a different party, years later. One of your hands held Tara's hair in a ponytail while the other stroked the girl's back, trying to provide some comfort as she emptied her stomach into the toilet.
When she finished, you closed the lid and flushed, leaving the girl leaning against the wall as you went to get a tissue to wipe her face. You silently thanked the closed bathroom door for doing a good job of muffling the loud sounds from the living room, as you needed something quieter now.
With the tissue now in hand, you turned to look at Tara, and your heart skipped a beat. It was unfair and almost inhumane that the girl could still look like the statue of an angel even when sweaty and weak. Your eyes traced every feature of her face, from her closed eyes to the slightly open mouth. You knew Tara's face as if it were a map, but every time you looked at her again, you found a different kind of beauty, almost like an unexplored path.
You crouched down to be at eye level with her face and began to gently clean the dirty areas so delicately that some might think the girl was made of porcelain. She shifted a bit at your touch, and a hint of her dimple began to show as she murmured softly, "Thanks, Amber."
The words that sounded so sweet and vulnerable came out of Tara's mouth like projectiles that punched a hole in your chest. Your lips trembled, and tears began to threaten to fall down your face, causing you to close your eyes to contain the flow.
It still hurt. It still hurt to know that Tara kept choosing her even after everything.
It was painful enough when Tara was attacked, and you had to anxiously wait as she went in and out of surgeries with no prognosis in sight, especially a positive one. But everything that followed caused the worst pain you had ever felt in your life.
It would be much easier to blame Amber for everything that happened. She was the one responsible for filling Tara's head with lies and manipulation in a moment of vulnerability, talking about how you were suspicious for living near the Carpenter house and not hearing anything, how it was obvious to everyone that you were obsessed with Tara and maybe had finally gone crazy because you couldn't have her.
But you couldn't put all the blame on her when Tara was the one who got scared when you visited her alone in the hospital. You couldn't ignore that Tara was the one who looked into your eyes and told you to leave, saying she was afraid of you. Saying she would never feel the same way about you.
Tara only believed your words after everything was over, and Amber and Richie were dead in the hall of Stu Macher's old house. You never received an apology, but maybe the blame was yours for not demanding one. You were so focused on taking care of Tara, as always, that you just let it slide as if it hadn't happened.
But at midnight, when you can't sleep, you wonder what would happen if Tara could choose you as the killer instead of Amber. You're afraid of what the answer would be.
But, as always, you put yourself second and bite your lower lip hard to prevent yourself from crying. Creating more distance between you and Tara's face, crushing the tissue in your hands to stay centered, you uttered the words as gently as you could. "Y/n, Tara. It's y/n."
"Oh." Tara chuckled, as if she had made an innocent mistake and not just called you by the name of her deceased ex-girlfriend. "My bad."
My bad. That's all she said.
But you continued to clean Tara, even knowing that the most you would get the next day would be a thank you if she hadn't been drunk enough to forget everything.
Love could be a real leash sometimes, but maybe you were at fault for letting Tara hold it.
_
You had never felt so exhausted in your life.
As you watched your friends having fun at the Halloween party, Chad and Ethan dancing on the dance floor, Mindy and Anika, as always, sitting together on a couch, and Tara drinking her whatever-number-it-was drink, you felt as if an anchor was pulling you down and waiting for the right moment to bury you under the ground.
It was a constant and growing exhaustion within you since Woodsboro. Everything seemed stacked, and you hadn't even stopped to seek help, trying to juggle everything as if everything were fine, as if a part of you weren't dying day after day.
You were trying to stay strong. For yourself, for your studies, for your friends. For Tara. But, oh, how difficult it was.
Meanwhile, Tara danced freely with some stranger, drinking a bit more of whatever was in her plastic cup. Part of you wondered if she would ever notice that you needed her help, her support, even if it were just for friendship.
But then, you remember the unspoken apologies and realize that perhaps Tara doesn't know you as well as you know her. Most likely, she may not care enough to try to notice any change in your behavior, as long as it doesn't affect the way you treat her.
It was pathetic and humiliating that you kept coming back to her and treating her as the center of your world even though the feeling clearly wasn't mutual. But the love you felt for Tara consumed you like the most powerful drug in your system. It might not be healthy, but you needed her presence to calm down, needed her to look at you to breathe, needed to make her laugh to feel your heartbeat.
And every time she laughed at one of your terrible jokes or every time she leaned on you during a movie, it was as if all the bad things disappeared just for the tiny possibility that she might be opening her heart to you, so you could finally have a chance to make her happy.
Your cloudy thoughts made the party pass quickly, like a timelapse in a movie, and you realized you had been standing in the same place while everyone else was having fun around you. How fitting.
When you really started paying attention to your surroundings, it was already too late. Sam had entered and tased a guy in the balls, and Tara had stormed out of the house completely furious. You quickly followed Mindy and Anika outside, knowing that a fight was about to happen.
The street was chilly at that early hour of the morning, and you tried to suppress a shiver that ran through your body. Most of your friends had also left the house, and all of you could see the Carpenter sisters arguing a bit further ahead. Both were angry and yelling at each other, and you knew Sam was right, but this conversation would probably be better to have in a private setting, without the curious eyes of other people passing by on the sidewalk.
You already had enough problems in your daily life without needing another Twitter post calling Sam a crazy scene maker.
"Hey, I'll try to talk to them, okay?" You practically whispered to Mindy. "It's better to resolve this at home."
"Isn't it better not to get involved?" She whispered back, but you were already determined that this was the best solution, letting the advice go in one ear and out the other. As you approached the sisters with cautious steps, their voices gradually increased and became more aggressive.
Sam noticed you approaching them and pointed at you, which caused you some astonishment, making you slow your steps to grasp the situation. "If you won't listen to me, why can't you at least listen to y/n?! She's your best friend, isn't she? At least she knows you need therapy, not drowning your sorrows in alcohol!"
Your cheeks heated up at the comment, and you shifted uncomfortably in place. The entire street seemed to be looking at your group now, urging you to try again to end the argument at that moment. "Guys, maybe we-"
"Oh, I'm sure you wish I were more like y/n!" Tara shouted and turned to you with a dark look. She was still clearly intoxicated, and her wobbly posture was the biggest indicator of that, even though she tried to restrain herself by crossing her arms over the pirate costume.
She scrutinized you from head to toe with a malicious smile that sent chills down your spine. "Sweet little y/n. Pathetic and stuck in the same place all these years. Is that how you want me to be, Sam?"
The tone loaded with disdain, even slurred by the alcohol, felt like a stab to your heart, bringing some tears to your eyes. She's drunk, it doesn't mean anything, that's what you were trying to tell yourself.
But... Drunk people usually speak the hidden truths lurking in the depths of their minds, don´t they?
Still, Tara didn't seem satisfied with what she said. "You said I need therapy, Sam, but what about her, huh? All this time, and she does nothing but stick to me. That's bordering on obsession, isn't it?"
Obsession. Exactly what Amber used to say about what you felt for Tara.
The cold of the street and the overall situation clashed to determine who would control the tremors running through your body. Shame and humiliation left your ears hot and your head dizzy, as if you were about to faint and fall onto the freezing concrete sidewalk.
"Tara, that's enough." You heard Mindy's voice closer, or maybe it was farther away. Your sense of location seemed to blend and twist along with all the other senses. The sound of something shattering reached your ears, and it could be either a bottle or your own broken heart.
"Why? She'll always end up coming back anyway." The younger Carpenter murmured and staggered with unsteady steps until she got close enough for you to smell the cheap alcohol on her breath. You wanted to move, run away so she couldn't see the tears streaming down your cheeks, but Tara's gaze left you as petrified as Medusa's.
You swallowed hard as your eyes focused anywhere but on the girl in front of you as a last attempt to escape from this torment, but it wasn't enough to prevent Tara's words from rolling off her tongue like poison.
"You know you'll never be her, right?"
Sobs escaped your throat, and you no longer felt control over your body. Unfortunately, your reaction seemed to fuel something primal in Tara. "Why do you still try?! Do you know how hard it is to ignore your pleading eyes every time you see me?! As if I'm a damn monster just because I don't want to kiss you?! It exhausts me! You exhaust me!"
"I never asked you for anything. I just... I just love you." You whispered those words the best you could with a shaky voice and quivering lips. Looking at Tara used to be the best part of your day, but now it felt so painful that your insides seemed to be squeezed.
The girl flashed a mean smile, and, for the first time, the sight of her dimples made you ache.
"Then stop. You weren't my first choice back then, and you won't be my first choice now."
More sobs escaped you, and the whole world seemed overstimulating. Lights were too bright, sounds were unintelligible yet too loud, everything seemed to tremble and crumble at your feet, and you just wanted to curl up in a fetal position and beg for that pain in your chest to go away.
Someone pulled Tara away from you, and a gentle hand rested on your shoulder, but your eyes were too watery to identify the owner. Nothing made sense, and you didn't even know how you were still standing. A physical pain spread through your body like a disease, and Tara's words echoed in your head like a siren.
Without the strength to stay there any longer, you turned around and ran as fast as you could towards what you hoped was the direction of your dormitory. It was already late, and the streets were empty and dark, but you didn't care anymore. The faint sound of an aggressive conversation faded from your ears as you ran farther and farther away from everyone.
You had always been by Tara Carpenter's side.
But now? Now, you were tired of being her second best.
#scream#scream 2022#scream vi#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter imagine#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega imagine#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#scream imagine#scream x reader
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Quinn Bailey Must Die
P1 | P2 | P3
summary: Quinn Bailey is yours and Tara's man-eating, sexed up, horn-dog roommate. She's cool at first, you think. Until she sets her sights on Tara.
warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, language.
word count: 6.6k
a/n: set in the all hers universe, just a lil (big) one shot. love u guys, as always let me know your thoughts, always makes my day :))
Quinn Bailey is - to put it lightly - an absolute pain in your ass.
New York City is expensive.
College is expensive.
And despite your parents' assistance and you and Tara both working part time jobs, it just isn’t feasible for you to get your own place in the city.
So you’d put an ad in the paper. Found Quinn. She’d seemed fun at first - lively. The type of girl you’d want to be friends with in a new city like this. A tried and true party girl, glimmering like a jewel in a sea of dreary faces.
But her sparkle had lasted all of three weeks.
First it was the dishes.
She left them piled up in the sink, unattended. For days, sometimes weeks.
A little pet peeve of yours, but it wasn’t anything major.
It had nothing on the men.
They were like a revolving door. An entire roster of bodies to keep her warm.
Short men. Tall men. Thin men, muscular men. Men with beards. Men without. Pretty men, sometimes, even ugly men.
If he lived in the tri-state area and had a penis - likely he’d seen the inside of your apartment (and your roommate).
But really, you’re not in the position to complain.
You and Tara weren’t exactly known for having quiet sex, and of all the people you’d lived with, Quinn seemed to mind it the least.
Maybe, looking back, that should have been the first warning sign.
“I don’t know,” Quinn sighs one night over a glass of wine. Tara’s curled up in your arms, nursing her own glass as you play with her hair, “Sometimes I think I should just give them all up.”
“Men?” You ask, furrowing your brow. You laugh a little at the thought, “I don’t know Quinn, outside of partying, men are your biggest hobby.”
It’s not intended as a slight, and Quinn doesn’t take it as one. She throws a coy smile your way.
“I don’t know, you two have just got me thinking lately,” She says, “I’ve never considered girls before. I mean, I like dick. A lot. But maybe dick isn’t everything.”
“Poetic,” You say, an eyebrow raised.
Men or women, it didn’t really matter who Quinn bought home. You’d have to wear your noise canceling headphones regardless.
But Tara’s shifting in your arms, sitting up. Then, she narrows her eyes at Quinn.
Like she’s scanning her for a potential threat.
Although therapy had quietened some of Tara’s more jealous tendencies, it hadn’t gotten rid of them completely. Now, instead of stabbing - she chooses staring.
You rub her arm, your quiet signal there are no threats here.
“Besides,” Quinn says, throwing her hair back, “A chick can just strap one on, right? And it never goes soft. Maybe that’s an upgrade.”
Tara’s tense against you.
Quinn looks over at her, and suddenly notices the death glare she’s receiving. She pinches her eyebrows, a little confused.
“What’s got you all worked up?” Quinn asks, with another flick of her hair. Her eyes widen, “Oh? You think I’m trying to make a play for your girl?”
She leans back and lets out a loud laugh.
“Chill Tara, if I was going to go for either of you, it wouldn’t be her.”
And then it’s your turn to stare.
Your hand freezes over Tara’s arm. A hot, familiar feeling of jealousy seeps through you, settles deep within your bones.
Quinn catches your gaze and rolls her eyes.
“Girls,” She says, exasperated, “You’re not the only pussy-lickers in town. Relax, okay?”
Tara leans back into you, seemingly placated.
Quinn tilts her head, and downs the rest of her wine. She picks up her phone to call some other nameless man, no doubt to terrorize the two of you within the next half an hour.
The conversation is over.
But the jealousy bubbling under your skin doesn’t simmer down. And suddenly, it’s the only thing you can think about.
-
“What did she mean by that?” You agonize to Liv and Chad, a little later.
You’re in the NYU quad, picking at your salad with a plastic fork. Tara’s in class, giving you more than enough time to stew on the conversation with Quinn.
Chad slurps on his milkshake, seemingly unbothered.
“She was just being friendly, YN, I wouldn’t read into it.” Says Chad, mouth open and full of food.
Liv turns to him. Smacks his arm, a little too hard.
“Friendly?” She says, voice shrill, “Friendly?”
Chad blinks back at her, but she’s turning to you.
“YN, she was not being friendly, don’t listen to him. Boys are so stupid.”
“Hey-“ Interjects Chad, but Liv ignores him. She takes your arm.
“She’s making a play for Tara, YN,” She says, a little urgently, “Girls do this. We like to play with our food before we eat it. She was scoping out Tara’s reaction before she put the moves on her for real.”
You furrow your brow.
“You think?”
“I know,” Says Liv, “How do you think I got Chad?”
Chad looks over to her, a little owlish.
“Huh?” He says, creasing his forehead, “I asked you out, babe.”
Liv shoots him a look.
“You asked me out after I spent two weekends at your house asking for Mario Kart lessons.”
Chad’s eyes widen.
“You said that was so you could beat your brother!”
Liv gives you a look.
“Women are masterminds, YN. Watch the fuck out.”
-
Liv’s comments ring in the back of your mind for the rest of the day.
Now that you think about it, Quinn had been lounging about the house lately in scantily clad outfits.
Sleep shorts that rose almost up to her hips. Tiny tank tops that were almost see through. She giggled a little too hard at Tara’s jokes, gushed over Tara’s cooking as if Tara was Gordon Ramsey himself.
You’re starting to see it.
Quinn liked her conquests.
Men were easy, women a little harder - but for a girl who liked to conquer, who better than Tara?
Your sweet, loving, loyal and devoted girlfriend.
Prying Tara away from you wouldn’t be child’s play.
Truly the Mount Everest of conquests.
“What’s wrong baby?” Tara asks you a little later, after you’d spent half the night glaring at Quinn.
She’d been traipsing around all afternoon in a pair of black panties and an old t-shirt, an outfit that wouldn’t have made you think twice about it a few days ago.
But it’s different now.
Liv’s words ring loud in your head, “Women are masterminds, YN.”
You don’t respond, instead dropping a soapy pot to the countertop and watching as Quinn disappears into her bedroom, her phone pressed to her ear.
Tara snakes her arms around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your neck.
“Babe?” Tara prompts.
“Nothing,” You mumble. You’re in your own head now, half afraid if you say it out loud it will become true.
You feel Tara’s pout against your shoulder.
“Something’s wrong, you barely said anything when I tried to get you to watch Saw III,” She says, turning you in her arms.
She raises an eyebrow to punctuate her point.
“And you hate gore movies.”
“I like movies that make you happy,” You lie.
Tara furrows her brow.
“Okay, something is definitely wrong,” She says. She stands on her tip toes and presses the softest kiss to your cheeks, “Tell me babe, what is it?”
You bite your lip.
Tara is your girlfriend, you reason after a moment of hesitation, and if anyone were to understand jealousy - it would be her.
You sigh and loop your arms around Tara’s waist.
“Is Quinn… do you think she’s acting weird?”
Tara frowns.
“No weirder than usual.”
“It’s just…” you chew your lip, “I think she might.. be into you, babe.”
Tara shoots you a look.
“I don’t think so,” She says. She leans up and presses a kiss to your lips, “She has a pretty solid roster of dudes to keep her entertained.”
She brushes a stand of hair out of your face, “Is that what’s bothering you, baby? You know you have nothing to worry about. I only have eyes for you.”
It placates you for only a moment.
Of course you don’t have anything to worry about. Tara adores you. Tara’s killed for you. Tara loves you with every fiber of her being.
It’s just…
Quinn is pretty. So pretty.
Tara had fallen hard and fast for you, who’s to say she couldn’t fall the same way for someone else?
And then the dread is back.
“It’s just… Liv said-“
Tara groans.
“Babe, don’t worry about what Liv has said. She barely knows the days of the week.”
“But she knows how to get guys,” You say, a little pointed.
Tara tilts her head. Her eyes are warm, the softest smile on her lips.
“I’m not a guy,” Tara promises. She nuzzles her nose against yours, “Quinn could parade around here naked doing backflips and I wouldn’t look twice at her. You know that, babe.”
You do know that.
And so you let Tara press warm kisses into your neck and drag you back to the bedroom.
Make sure to moan a little louder than usual just to remind Quinn exactly who Tara belongs to.
-
It doesn’t work.
Because of course, why would it work?
The barrage of men flitting in and out of Quinn’s room comes to a screeching halt. She’s celibate for almost a week, focusing all her sexual energy on your girlfriend.
It’s subtle, in the masterful kind of way Liv described.
“Man,” She sighs loudly, one morning from her spot at the kitchen counter, “Tara, do you think you could help me on this paper for film class? I have to write a paper on iconic women in horror.”
Tara springs to action, charging away from you like this is her sole purpose in life: to share her catalog of benign horror knowledge to any pretty girl who looks her way.
You fold your arms, unhappily.
“Start with Ellen Ripley,” Tara commands, before she even sits down. Quinn begins typing, madly. Tara pulls up a chair next to Quinn’s, leaning in a respectful distance to peer down at Quinn’s screen.
“Signorney Weaver’s impact on horror is maybe one of the things that made me interested in horror to begin with.”
“I didn’t know that,” Quinn coos. She touches Tara’s arm, only slightly, leaning in until their shoulders brush, “That’s so cute, Tara.”
Tara draws back, clearing her throat.
“When you’re done with Sigourney, maybe touch on Jamie-Lee-Curtis.”
Quinn blinks over at her, eyes round, like an innocent doe.
You know better.
Your eyes narrow as you stand, reaching for your purse.
“Baby,” You remind Tara, leaning over to touch her back, “We need to get groceries today. Before Sam comes to visit.”
Quinn’s schoolgirl act drops immediately. Her eyes frost over slightly as she looks over at you, only the tiniest twinge of irritation apparent.
“Maybe you could do that later, YN?” She asks, voice tilted, “I have to get this paper done before tonight.”
“Sorry,” You flash her the mildest smile, not sorry at all, “Tara’s sister is coming all the way from California. We need to get the place ready, right babe?”
Tara nods, turning to Quinn to shrug.
“Google should be able to help,” She says, scooting off her chair and grabbing her coat, “Carrie’s a great film too, if you’re in a pinch.”
“Well, maybe you can help me when you get back?” Quinn asks, a slight pout on her lip as she looks at Tara.
Your eyes narrow, but Tara nods, helpfully.
“Sure.”
-
Naively, you’d hoped Quinn would get bored with this little game she’d started.
Her attention span is short, you’d reasoned, as soon as she’d figured out Tara isn’t returning any of her flirty looks or comments, she’d get bored.
You’d been wrong.
If anything, Tara’s lack of interest only seems to spur Quinn on more.
Most of your classes are in the mornings, Tara’s in the afternoon. Tara walks you to class, leaves you with a soft kiss and an “I love you”, but you know Quinn doesn’t work until the evenings, and it’s just her and Tara alone in that tiny little apartment for hours on end.
So you toil in your classes. Imagine the worst.
Tara and Quinn, sitting side by side, watching horror movies. Quinn touches her arm, then her thigh, leaning in to kiss her.
Tara bats her away, most times you think about it. But sometimes she doesn’t. Sometimes she lets herself be kissed. Sometimes she lets Quinn touch her, undress her. Fuck her.
And those sometimes become all you can think about.
This is a new challenge, one that has rarely surfaced in your relationship.
Tara is so enamored with you, most people don’t even bother attempting to seduce her. But Quinn isn’t most people, she’s persistent and pretty and maybe Tara isn’t a guy, but that doesn’t mean she can’t fall for the same traps a lot of them do.
A sticky hot, honey-trap by the name of Quinn Bailey.
“What are you doing?” You ask, a little stern when you walk into the apartment that afternoon. Tara’s curled up onto the couch, blanket wrapped around her. Quinn’s hovering over her, the back of her hand pressed against Tara’s forehead.
A prickle settles down the back of your spine. Your jaw clenches.
But Tara doesn’t even look over, just nuzzles herself deeper into her blanket.
“Tara isn’t feeling well, poor baby.” Quinn coos.
You drop your bag, ignore the rageful little demon in you that wants to bat Quinn’s hand away and fall to your girlfriend's side. The tip of Tara’s nose is red, and her lips are chapped. As she blinks up at you, you notice her eyes are hazy.
“Honey,” You say, all thought of Quinn gone as you press your lips to Tara’s cheek, “Why didn’t you call?”
“It’s nothing, just a cold,” Says Tara, but she curls into your side anyway. You press a gentle kiss to her clammy forehead and rub her arm. Quinn disappears into the kitchen, returning with a small bowl.
“I made her some tea,” Says Quinn, “And some soup from scratch.”
You blink up at her. You’ve never seen Quinn cook anything in her life. She’s all Deliveroo and fruit roll ups and toast. But the kitchen sink is awash with stray noodles and dirty pots. The smell of soup lingers.
“Thanks Quinn,” Tara murmurs, reaching out to take the bowl from her hands, “You didn’t have to do that.”
The angry, jealous demon is back. Quinn’s smile is unsettling, almost triumphant.
As if she’s out-girlfriend-ed you.
You swallow the urge to punch her in the throat.
“No, you didn’t.” You say, warily, “Tara’s allergic to MSG, you didn’t put any of that in it, did you?”
Quinn shakes her head, her smile coy.
“All natural, only the best for our girl.” Quinn says, and then squeezes Tara’s shoulder.
You glare as she cleans up the dirty plates and contemplate homicide for the rest of the evening.
-
When Tara’s feeling better, you’ll bring it up, you reason with yourself the next morning.
Quinn Bailey is becoming a pest, a horned up sex-pest determined to get her claws in your girlfriend.
It has to stop.
The solution?
This is where you’re a little stuck. You don’t know the solution. Strangling Quinn sounds great on paper, but not so much in practice.
Dead people don’t pay rent, that’s the only thing you know for sure.
You contemplate this over the next couple of days, between wrestling a hot water bottle for Tara out of Quinn’s hands, and almost jogging down to the corner store at the end of your block to beat Quinn for the tylenol.
Tara’s such a baby when she’s sick, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think she’s starting to enjoy this. Two women fawning over her, competing for who can nurse her the best.
And the worst part is, Quinn knows exactly what she’s doing and she wants you to know it.
She doesn’t say it, not outright, too smart to play her hand too quickly.
She grins as she spoonfeds Tara some leftover soup, flashes you a look as she dabs Tara’s sweaty forehead with a damp cloth.
She raises an eyebrow at you as Tara croaks out to her, asking for more tissues.
It makes you stew.
It makes you want to grab the kitchen knife out of the top draw and slam it through her stupid neck.
It makes you want to grab her by the hair and throw her out of the window of your seventh story apartment.
But you resist.
Let her think she’s winning.
It’ll make the victory you claw from her hands all the more sweet.
Tara’s feeling better a few days later, and with her recovery comes the first taste of victory.
Quinn’s making dinner in the kitchen - her newfound passion being culinary for your girlfriend. She hums a little, flitting between batting her eyelashes at Tara and shooting knowing glances in your direction.
“Tara,” She says, just as she’s about to pour the tomato paste into the pasta “I can’t get this jar open. Can you help me?”
Tara’s busy with her laptop, but she moves over regardless. She touches your shoulder lightly as she passes, and reaches out to take the jar from Quinn’s hand.
It pops open immediately. You roll your eyes.
Quinn beams, and as you look up, she’s running her hand over your girlfriend’s bicep.
“You’re so strong,” She flirts, brazenly, “Thanks Tara.”
Tara moves back to her laptop, unperturbed.
When it comes to attention towards her she has always been oblivious. You let out a growl so low, no-one but you hears it.
“Dinner’s up, Tara,” Quinn says, a few moments later, pulling out a couple of plates.
You peer down at your book, suddenly very interested in the words. When Quinn had asked you your plans for the evening - grocery bags in hand - you’d neglected to tell her Tara had asked you out to dinner.
Tara blinks over at her, a little confused.
“Dinner?” She asks, closing the lid of her laptop.
“Yeah,” Says Quinn with a sickly smile, “I made your favorite.”
Tara tilts her head, “Oh. Sorry, Quinn, we’re going out tonight. I didn’t realize you were cooking for us.”
Quinn stares a moment.
“That’s fine,” She says, voice a little clipped, “Only, I asked YN and she said you guys were around.”
You close your book and stand, grabbing your coat.
“Oh yeah,” You say, smacking your hand to your head, as if you’d suddenly forgotten, “Dinner. I am so sorry, Quinn. Gosh, I am so forgetful sometimes.”
Tara peers over at you, a little confused.
Oblivious idiot when it comes to girls, yes, but not with you. You see the question in her eyes and neglect to answer it.
Quinn’s eyes harden, but she doesn’t dare give up the jig. Not in front of Tara.
“It’s fine,” She says, “Maybe you can have it for lunch.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Tara says, a little absent minded as you wrap her jacket around her shoulders.
You can tell she feels bad by the way she lingers.
“We haven’t had a date night in a while, that’s all,” Tara explains. She wraps an arm around your waist and squeezes your hip, “Besides, I owe this one a dinner for taking such good care of me these last couple of days.”
She presses a soft kiss to your lips, her brown eyes warm and shimmering.
You can’t help the smile that snakes across your lips.
Quinn crosses her arms, looking unhappy.
“I seem to remember taking pretty good care of you,” She says, drawing Tara’s gaze, “Maybe you should be taking me out to dinner, too.”
Tara’s eyebrows knit in confusion. She looks at you, a little helpless, like she’s suddenly aware she’s caught in a chess match she wasn’t aware she was playing.
Bless her.
Your poor, sweet, unsuspecting girlfriend.
You squeeze her hand, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
“
“Did you get the feeling Quinn’s mad at me?” She asks, “Maybe we should have invited her to dinner. She did make me a lot of soup.”
You tilt your wine glass to your lips, needing the rush of the alcohol to get you through this conversation.
When you set it down, Tara’s blinking back at you, with wide, brown eyes.
“Remember what we talked about a couple of weeks ago, babe?” You say, “About my conversation with Liv.”
Tara nods.
“And have you noticed it, this past couple of weeks?” You prompt, “Quinn flirting with you?”
Tara tilts her head.
“No.”
“Tara, she touched your arm and called you strong,” You say, pinching the bridge of your nose. Quinn had gone to work earlier that day, blown a kiss goodbye to Tara as she’d left.
Made sure you’d seen it.
Tara shrugs, “I’ve been in the gym, babe, I’m getting stronger.”
She flexes her bicep.
“Look, babe, that’s all muscle.” She says, proudly.
“That’s not the point, Tara,” You say, “She’s flirting with you. She’s been flirting with you all week.”
Tara frowns.
“She has?” She asks, looking a little perplexed.
Then, she pouts.
“So she was just complimenting my lasagne because she wanted to sleep with me?” She says, looking put out, “I thought she really liked my new recipe.”
“Forget about the lasagne, Tara, this is not okay.” You say, “How would you feel if she were hitting on me?”
Tara frowns.
“Not good,” She admits, “Bad. Really, really bad.”
You sigh, dropping your fork onto your plate.
“She’s going to have to go,” You tell Tara, “If she can’t respect our relationship, she can get the fuck out.”
Tara bites her lip.
“Okay, babe,” She says, a little wary, “It’s just… rent is due next month and I don’t know how easy it’s going to be to replace her.”
She squeezes your hand, a little hasty as she sees the look on your face.
“I’ll talk to her,” Tara says, leaning up to kiss you, “I’ll remind her I’m taken and not interested. And if she still tries it after that, she goes. How’s that, babe?”
-
Tara’s talk with Quinn happens a little later.
You climb into bed, head tilted as you hear the quiet murmur of their voices down the hall. It doesn’t sound heated, and you hear Quinn giggling as she tells Tara goodnight.
You frown as Tara enters the room.
“It’s just a misunderstanding, baby,” She says as she climbs into bed, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “She doesn’t like me. She told me she’s just been a little clingier than usual because we’re her only friends.”
“Babe-“ You start with a huff, ready to climb out of bed but Tara’s hands grip around your waist.
“I know, I know, babe.” She assures, pressing another quick kiss to your neck, “I know you think it’s all bullshit so I told her straight up. I told her I’m in love with you and if she tries anything we’ll kick her straight out.”
You frown, turning in her arms, “Really?”
“Really.” Tara says, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, “And I promise to keep my distance, okay babe? She can flirt until the cows come home, it’s going to fall on deaf ears.”
She snuggles into your chest, soothing your hammering heartbeat with a kiss.
“I love you. Only you.”
-
True to her word, Tara goes out of her way to avoid Quinn.
Gone are their cozy little sessions on the couch watching horror movies. Tara refuses Quinn’s cooking, turns down each of Quinn’s requests to hang out, or help her with homework, or whatever other brainless task Quinn can think of to get them to spend time together.
The rental market is fucked, you discover in the interim.
No way can you and Tara afford to move out, and even if Quinn did leave, it could take months to replace her.
“No,” Mindy says, point blank when you ask her, “Not unless you and Tara swear to a vow of celibacy.”
You sigh, unhappily.
“Great,” You say, slumping back into your seat, “We’re going to be stuck with her forever.”
Mindy looks over at you, taking a little pity on you.
“Why don’t you ask Chad and Liv?” She suggests, “They won’t be able to hear you fuck over Liv’s soap operas anyway.”
“I already asked,” You say, voice gloomy, “They’re in a two year contract.”
Mindy shoots you a sympathetic smile.
“You’ll find someone,” She says, “You just need to put some feelers out there.”
And so you do.
You spend the morning in class writing up the ad. You’ll put in the paper tomorrow, you figure.
When you get home, ready to avoid Quinn and spend a night snuggling in bed with Tara, Tara’s already at the door.
“Hey babe,” Tara says, bouncing up to greet you with a kiss. She smiles, lowering her voice, “Missed you. Wanna shower with me?”
You smile and kiss her.
“You know we can’t,” You say, regretfully, “Last time we used up all the hot water.”
“So let’s have a cold shower,” She suggests, her smile turning into a leer, “I’ve got other ways to warm you up.”
“Izzie, how are you? It’s been ages!” Quinn sounds from the living room. Your smile drops - you didn’t realize she was home. Tara notices your face shift, and rubs your hip, comfortingly.
“She’s been good, babe, I promise,” Tara says, “Are you sure you don’t want to shower with me?”
“I’ll start dinner,” You say, leaning in to kiss her quickly, “You go, baby.”
Quinn’s in the living room, lounging across the couch when you enter.
“Yeah, I’ve never done it before,” Says Quinn. If she’s noticed you in the kitchen, she doesn’t acknowledge you. She kicks her shoes off and lays back into the couch, twirling her hair between her fingers.
“I just can’t stop thinking about it. You know? I really want to try it.”
You pull a few potatoes from the bag and pull out a knife.
Just a little while longer, you think, trying to stop yourself from glancing over. Just a few more weeks of her and then you’d never have to see her again.
Quinn looks over, catching your eye.
As if she can tell you’re thinking about her.
And then, she smiles.
“I met a guy last night, took him home because he looked a little bit like her. Dark hair, dark eyes, short.” She says, her voice dropping to a quiet murmur, “Fucked his brains out imaging it was her on top of me. Inside me. And she will be. Soon.”
She’s looking right at you. Her voice is a low taunt, daring you to take the bait.
And you fall for it.
Hook, line and sinker.
You slam the knife to the kitchen counter, cheeks flushing red.
“That’s it,” You growl as you launch at her, “You’re fucking dead, do you hear me?”
Quinn stares a moment, her jaw slacking.
As if she hadn’t realized her taunting would finally come to fruition.
In the form of you launching to grab at the end of her hair.
You tug at it, hard, determined to make the end of your fist meet the slant of her chin. She squeals, dropping her phone as you tug her towards you.
“YN,” She cries, “Stop it, you’re fucking crazy-”
“You think this is funny?” You growl, letting go of her hair to shove her back against the couch. You swing at her - and miss - and you know you must look crazed. All wild eyes, red-faced, three weeks of taunting finally setting you over the edge, “ You think trying to sleep with my girlfriend is a game?”
“Tara!” Quin screams as you launch at her once more, “Tara, help!”
Tara’s name on Quinn’s lips - if possible, just makes you angrier. You lunge over the couch, but she stands, squealing as she ducks your advances.
You hear the bathroom door slam, and a flash of dark hair before you turn to see Tara, soaking wet, towel pressed around her torso. Her hair is soapy with shampoo and she looks dismayed as she looks at the sight in front of her.
Quinn screaming like a child and you feral. Grabbing for her with all your might.
“Baby?” She says, sounding scandalized, “What are you doing?”
Quinn lets out a sob. Teary-eyed, she barrels over to Tara and stands behind her, grabbing at Tara’s arms as if she’s her knight in shining armor.
“She’s attacking me, Tara,” Quinn blubbers out through her crocodile tears, “Make her stop, please.”
“Oh, give it a rest, would you?” You say, voice harsh, “Tears? Really? Why don’t you tell Tara what you were saying about her on the phone, huh? Why don’t you be honest for once in your fucking life and tell her what you’ve been trying to do this entire time.”
“I was talking about a girl from my Chemistry class,” Quinn says, as if you’re crazy, “Her name is Charlotte, I wasn’t talking about Tara.”
“Oh, bullshit,” You scoff, “Just admit it. You’ve been all over Tara from day one.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, you crazy bitch,” Quinn says, “Look, just because you’re insecure, doesn’t mean I’m trying to sleep with your girlfriend.”
“Enough,” Growls Tara. She wrenches her hand away from Quinn, turning to round on her. The anger within you dissipates slightly. You swallow as you’ve realized Quinn has inadvertently awoken The Rage.
“Don’t you dare talk to her like that,” Tara says, her voice hot, “Don’t you fucking dare.”
Quinn blinks at her.
“Tara, it’s fine,” You say, hurriedly, “Babe, leave it.”
And as much as you want to see Quinn get punched in the face, you don’t want The Rage to be the one to do it.
You’d paid for too much therapy to see that fucker unleashed again.
“Apologize,” Tara demands, her eyes flashing, “Apologize to her now.”
You reach for Tara’s hand, tug her back towards you, out of Quinn’s reach. Her heart is racing, her shoulders tight. You press your lips to her shoulder in an effort to soothe her.
Quinn’s face contorts. You half think she’s about to spit right in your face. Maybe take a swing at you of her own. But then her face softens.
“I’m sorry, YN,” She says, voice silky sweet, “It really was a misunderstanding. I think we’ve got off on the wrong foot. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I was trying to take your girlfriend from you. I’m not, I promise.”
She sounds sincere, but you see right through her.
“Alright,” Tara says, though her shoulders are still tight, “Good. Now I’m going to finish my shower, and the two of you are not going to kill each other. Right?”
Quinn nods, solemnly.
“Bedroom,” You tell Tara, “Now.”
-
“She’s going,” Is the first thing you say as Tara shuts the door. You’re pacing back and forth, your skin burning hot and red, “She’s fucking gone, Tara. I mean it this time. I don’t care if we have to sleep on Mindy’s couch for the next three years, I am not spending another second with her-”
Tara rubs her eyes. They’re a little red, stained with unwashed shampoo.
“Baby, why don’t you sit down for a bit?” She suggests, “Look at you, you’re all worked up.”
You turn to stare her down, anger flashing through your features.
“She was talking about fucking you, Tara,” You hiss, “Right in front of me. She was talking about how she wanted you inside her.”
Tara moves a little closer, trying to touch your arm. You shake her off to continue your pacing.
“You’re mine,” You seethe, “I don’t know what part of that is so hard for her to understand.”
“Baby-” Tara starts.
“You’re not talking me out of this, Tara,” You snap, “I want her gone. Tonight.”
Tara catches your arm. She draws you in for a long kiss.
She’s trying to settle you down.
It works.
“I’m yours,” She says, softly, “Like I already told you, you don’t have to worry about her.”
“You promised, Tara,” You say, voice agonized, “You promised if she tried anything else she’d be gone. And I swear to god, Tara - if you try to take her side-“
Tara shushes you with another kiss.
Then she draws back, her voice soft.
“Of course I’m not going to take her side, sweetheart,” Tara says, “I’m your girlfriend. I’m always on your side. She’s going. You don’t have to ask twice.”
This relaxes you a little. Tara presses another lingering kiss to your lips.
“Like hell we’re sleeping on Mindy’s couch, though,” Tara says, crinkling her brow, “Sam can lend us the money. She won’t mind.”
Sam might mind.
But it’s really the least of your worries.
“Thank you,” You say, sighing as you lean into Tara’s chest.
Tara squeezes your shoulders.
“Let me finish my shower,” She says, “And then I’ll talk to her.”
She eyes you, warily.
“Maybe you should take a walk or something, babe,” She says, after a moment of hesitation. She brushes your cheek, “You’re all red in the face.”
You frown.
“If you think I’m leaving you here with that sexed-up-piranha-” You start with a growl, and Tara draws her arms back around your shoulders.
“Alright, alright,” She concedes, “It’s okay, babe, we’ll do it together.”
But by the time Tara’s out of the shower, Quinn is long gone.
You spend the night seething, not even Tara’s gentle kisses enough to coax you out of your mood.
In the morning, you hunt through the apartment like a lion hungry for its prey but she’s nowhere in sight.
She’s stupid enough to try you, but not so stupid enough to hang around for the fallout.
When you head off to class, Tara reassures you with a gentle squeeze of your hand.
“She’ll be back here at some point,” Tara says, “As soon as I see her I’ll tell her to pack her bags.”
Economics flashes by in a rage-filled trance. You don’t even bother with your marketing paper. You’re worked up.
You just want her gone.
And so you skip the rest of your morning classes and head home.
You don’t bother smiling at the doorman, fish your keys out of your pocket in a grump.
When you get to the door, you tilt your key in the lock, fiddling around to pry the door open.
And then you hear it.
A cry - it’s Tara, and then you hear Quinn. She’s squealing again. You blink. Your mind runs rampant with the possibilities.
Tara with her knife, plowing through Quinn with the kind of ire only The Rage can bring.
Tara grunts, and it’s familiar. Your stomach lurches. You might be sick.
You know that grunt.
The indicator Tara might be plowing Quinn in a much different fashion.
Betrayal sinks deep within your veins. You fumble with the door, almost pry it off its hinges in your effort to barge through it.
It swings open, and the lump in your throat grows with the thought of what you might find on the other side of the door.
But what you see isn’t what you expect.
You blink.
Nothing could have prepared you for the sight in front of you.
“Tara,” You hiss as your jaw drops, “What are you doing?”
Tara has Quinn in a firm grip. Her legs are wrapped tight around Quinn’s waist, she has Quinn’s head between her arms in a chokehold. Quinn’s eyes are wide. She struggles desperately against Tara’s grip, eyes bulging as she tries to wrangle her way out.
The scene in front of you would be comical, if it weren’t real.
But it’s very real.
Quinn looks over to you the moment Tara does.
The sound of your voice is her escape.
Tara turns to you, grip lessening only slightly as she realizes your presence. Her brown eyes widen, the way they do when she knows she’s in trouble.
Quinn pulls herself out of Tara’s grip with a heavy gasp, almost shoving Tara to the floor.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Quinn says, voice high as she stands, “Are you actually serious right now?”
“Explain, Tara,” You say, voice flat, “Now.”
Tara looks over to you, eyes wide. She splutters as she speaks.
“She tried to kiss me, babe,” Tara says, voice aghast, “She tried to kiss me and I didn’t know what else to do.”
Quinn’s breathing heavily.
She’s scary like this. Thundering over Tara’s tiny frame like she might snap her in two.
“I throw myself at you and your first reaction is karate?” Quinn says to Tara. Her eyes are wild. She’s pissed, “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Tara fires back, “I have a girlfriend.”
You throw your bag to the ground. The heavy, unsettled feeling that’s stayed with you for the last three weeks is boiling. If Quinn doesn’t leave now, there’s no telling what you’ll do next.
“Get out,” You tell Quinn, “You don’t live here anymore. Get your shit and go.”
Quinn doesn’t move.
“Get out,” You insist, “Before I kill you myself.”
Quinn shoots an angry look at Tara, before redirecting it at you.
“Fine,” She says, “You two deserve each other. Fucking Jackie Chan and Princess Prissy-”
“Out.” You snap as she grabs her purse.
She shoots you an angry glare.
“You can forget about rent,” She sneers, “And good luck finding someone else to live in this shitty apartment.”
Your palms are sweating as she slams the front door shut.
Tara looks up at you, eyes still wide, a little sheepish as you close in on her.
“I didn’t kiss her babe, I swear,” Tara promises, leaning up to grab your hands, “She leaned in and I grabbed her before she could get close.”
“I know you didn’t, babe,” You say after a long moment. Your voice softens. You brush her dark hair out of her eyes, “I know.”
She’s quiet a moment.
“I’m sorry that we didn’t kick her out sooner,” She says, “I really did just think she was trying to be my friend.”
You sigh. Tilt your face to hers.
“I know, babe,” You say, then you snort, “I can’t believe you put her in a headlock. Sam’s going to love that.”
Tara pouts.
“She deserved it,” She says, “And speaking of Sam…”
She looks up at her, eyes shimmering.
“I talked to her about the rent,” Tara murmurs after a moment, “She agreed to help us out.”
“Oh?” You say. A spark of hope sears deep within your chest.
Tara bites her lip, “There’s a catch, though. She’s going to come live with us until we find a new roommate.”
“Oh.” You say with a frown.
“You’re not mad, are you?” Tara asks, a little hesitant, “I’d tell her no, but we’re really in a pinch, babe.”
“It’s fine,” You say, after a moment, “I don’t mind living with Sam.”
Tara hums. She leans in close against you.
“And hey,” You nudge her, trying to keep the mood light, “At least I don’t have to worry about Sam trying to get into your pants.”
Tara wrinkles her nose.
You laugh.
Lean down to kiss her, deep.
Fuck you Quinn Bailey, you can’t help but think.
You hope she enjoyed her little game.
Because when it comes to Tara, you never lose.
#ghostface!tara#scream#scream vi#tara carpenter#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter x yn#tara carpenter x reader#jenna ortega x yn#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x you#quinn bailey#mine#fanfic#all hers#jenna ortega x reader
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Stay with me | t.c
Pairing: Tara Carpenter X reader
Summary: Tara had a nightmare and the first person she thought of calling is y/n.
Words: 7.6 K
Warning: Post-traumatic trauma
"Tara! What the hell happened?" I tighten my grip on the phone, wondering why Tara was calling me at 4 in the morning. Sleep fades away as anxiety takes over.
I had met Tara Carpenter weeks ago almost by chance, arriving late to class. At that moment, I saw an empty seat next to a girl with brown hair and without a second thought, I headed in that direction
.Later on, we exchanged pleasantries, but over time those exchanges became more frequent, with added walks along the corridors and chats after school.
"Are you okay?" I ask quickly, feeling a deafening silence from the other end.
"Tara?" I inquire, feeling the worry growing inside me.
I was bitten by anxiety, my lower lip trapped between my teeth as a thousand thoughts, none of them encouraging, raced through my mind. Recently, Tara had told me about the horrible experience she had in Woodsboro with her friends and sister because of two psychopaths disguised as Ghostface. She literally went through hell... losing friends, suffering horrible injuries, and the growing anxiety of being pursued.At that moment,
I had hugged her to try to convey my support. Tara had buried her head in the crook of my neck, returning the gesture almost hesitantly. I knew she was scared, terrified of the idea of trusting someone again and reliving that horrible experience.
But despite everything, she trusted me.
"Y/n?" Tara's voice was broken, her nose sniffling as she sobbed. "Tara!" I say with my heart pounding, waiting for Carpenter's words.
"Can you come over?" Her voice becomes weak as she speaks, sobs threatening to escape any moment. "Are you hurt?" I ask, terrified, anxiety threatening to drive me insane.
Tara sniffs, the sound of her breath making me even more anxious. Should I run? Take the bus? Call an ambulance and rush to her apartment with a weapon? But would I be able to kill to defend her? A thousand questions assail me, and just the thought of having to kill sends shivers down my spine.
"No..." she says hoarsely, and a sense of relief washes over me.
"Has he... come back?" I timidly ask, biting my lower lip.
I didn't know what the term Ghostface would provoke in Tara, so I just asked if her fear had followed her to New York.
"No" Tara says timidly, her sobs threatening to escape from her lips.
I relax and look out the window, seeing the city shrouded in silence, the light from some lampposts illuminating bits of the street, and cars passing by occasionally.
"What's going on?" I ask calmly, knowing the brown-haired girl was safe."I need you..." she whispers weakly, her nose sniffling. "I had a horrible nightmare," she concludes with a faint voice, her voice still broken.
"Tara..." I respond gently, my heart squeezing at so much tenderness. "Is Sam not there?" I ask as I get out of bed, searching for my clothes.
"No... She'll be back from work at 7," she says timidly.
"Is it really that urgent?" I ask, biting my lower lip, sighing. "Yes..." Tara replies hoarsely, and I know the only way out of this situation is to go to the brown-haired girl's apartment.
"What did you dream about?" I ask timidly as I put on my pants, the phone between my ear and shoulder to keep it up. "I... I dreamt of him again... He was killing you in front of my eyes, laughing," she says with terror in her voice, sighing loudly. "I felt so powerless and scared," she sobs.
"I'm here," I say gently.
I put the phone on speaker as I put on the sweatshirt Tara had given me. "When I woke up, I was crying, and not seeing Sam panicked me," she confesses quickly, and I smile at her words.
I was glad she called me because she wanted my company.
"I'm coming, okay? Just give me 10 minutes," I say gently, wanting to reassure Tara, and the brown-haired girl mumbles in response. "10 minutes," she says timidly.
She had woken me up in the middle of the night, but when it came to Tara, I didn't mind.
(...)
"Hey! sorry for being late, I thought some chocolate might..." I start to apologize for being late, but Tara's arms around my neck freeze me in surprise.
A smile spreads across my face as I let myself be enveloped by her warm embrace, responding to her need for contact. Tara seemed to have developed a particular affection in the last few weeks, perhaps she was scared to be alone. It was entirely understandable considering what poor Carpenter had been through.
I sigh and leave a kiss on her forehead.
"You're here," Tara whispers against my neck, the sound of her voice muffled but full of meaning, and I can only smile in response.
Her arms tighten slightly around me
"always," I whisper timidly.
Tara pulls away from my neck but her arms remain around my waist. Her eyes look at me sweetly, chin up and a dazzling smile showing her dimples "you're my friend, that and more for you" I confess a bit bitterly for the word friend.
Why deny it? I liked Tara, a lot.
Tara continues to look at me without blinking, a shy smile on her lips. I could see the freckles dusted along her face. "So... Did you bring the chocolate?" Tara clears her throat, her eyes pointing to the chocolate in my hands.
"Oh yeah," I say and chuckle timidly, cheeks reddened with embarrassment."Thank you, you're adorable," Tara smiles widely and takes the chocolate.
The brunette puts the chocolate on the glass table.
Then her arms found purchase around my shoulders, her nose brushing against the weak point of my neck. "Why did you want me here?" I ask timidly, my voice just a whisper against Tara's ear.
Tara sighs loudly and presses her face more against my chest
"I feel safe with you" she murmurs weakly and my cheeks flush red.
Tara looks at me and her cheeks were flushed.
I raise an eyebrow seeing how Tara's eyes were slowly closing due to sleep. Tara mumbles and yawns."You're sleepy huh? I could keep you company on call until you fall asleep" I chuckle timidly and Tara yawns again.
"No," Tara whines with a cute pout, and I feel her body curl up even more against mine "I was really scared... I needed a hug."
I sigh deeply, feeling the weight of her vulnerability and without hesitation, I pull her into my arms, trying to convey all my support.
"I... felt like that night when I was attacked," Tara continues, shuddering against my body as her words pierce my heart. "Alone at home... vulnerable... but terrified because I knew there was someone who wanted to hurt me," she confesses, and my heart breaks for her.
"I'm here," I whisper gently, placing my lips on her forehead hoping that my gesture can somehow soothe her suffering.
Tara sighs against my chest.
"Come on... Let me take you to bed," I say timidly, my arms around her waist. "Sam is coming," I whisper, and Tara nods against my chest.
"Will you take me?" she asks weakly, yawning, and I smile when I notice her firm grip on my neck.
I bend down to gather her into my arms, and we head towards the bed where Tara emits a small sigh of satisfaction at the contact with the mattress.
"Goodnight," I say timidly, leaning down to give her a kiss on the cheek. "No... Stay with me," the brunette says determinedly, her hands clinging to my hoodie."But Sam..." I begin, trying to express my concerns about her sister's reaction, but Tara interrupts me with a pout.
"Sam won't say anything, stay with me please," Tara whispers sweetly, looking at me with eyes full of hope and vulnerability like a deer in need of comfort.
Faced with her tender request, I find myself unable to resist.
I sigh and settle down next to her, feeling the warmth of her body close to mine and a smile graces Tara's face. "When Sam arrives, I'll go home," I whisper gently, feeling her hands wrap around my arm as if I were a plush toy to cling to.
"Yeah..." Tara responds briefly, resting her head against my chest, and my heart skips a beat at her response.
I sigh with contentment, allowing myself to be completely enveloped by her embrace, smiling weakly as I reflect on the evening (or rather, morning) we've spent together.
In the end, Tara doesn't let me go, and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega x fem!reader#scream movie#scream vi#scream#ghostface#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter x y/n#tara carpenter x female reader#sam carpenter#post traumatic stress disorder
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—THE HAPPIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD.
pairing: tara carpenter x reader
synopsis: your ex-girlfriend is a drunken mess at a college party and the only person her friends think to call is you.
word count: 1.8k
warnings: extensive talk of vomit, mentions of ghostface attack
Your phone blared in your ears like some kind of end-of-the-world siren. Groaning, you lifted your head from your laptop on the desk and answered the call. Mindy’s voice sounded in a panic as you caught a glimpse of the time, 11:46pm.
“Y/N, we need you at Greg’s party. Tara is literally blacked-out drunk and she’s like throwing up non-stop, and we don’t know what to do. She won’t let us take her home and—”
“Woah, woah, woah, slow down,” you felt the oncoming headache in your temple. Your hazy mind began to spiral.
Mindy had been gracious enough to allow you space after the breakup. You were a part of the friend group but chose to distance yourself afterward, but Mindy and Anika were the ones you still talk to occasionally. Sometimes the way they bounced between you and Tara made you feel like the divorced parent hanging out with your kids every two weeks.
“I’m studying for finals.” You rubbed your eyes.
“Please, Y/N. She won’t budge. If it weren’t this dire, you know I wouldn’t call you.”
You knew it was true, but it’s only been two months.
News of the party had been bubbling around campus for a few weeks now. Everyone has been talking about Greg Hansen’s end-of-semester party, even if you weren’t coming, the gossip was what kept it alive. Even more so when it was a party thrown by someone from your major; you were always hearing about it. So you also knew where it was.
When you arrived, you couldn’t be more appalled by the concoction of weed, sweat, and beer wafting in your face the moment you walked through the door. In the corner of the living room was Greg Hansen, chugging beer from a tube as his henchmen hyped him up, being the life of the party as always. But you needed to find Mindy and, eventually, Tara.
You texted an ‘I’m here’ to Mindy and looked around for any sign of a familiar face when a hand clasped around your shoulder. Turning around in fright, you relaxed when you realized it was Chad.
“She’s in the bathroom. This way, come on.”
Mindy couldn’t answer your text because she and Anika were busy holding back Tara’s hair as she was emptying the contents of her stomach. Sure you’ve seen how bad Tara can be after parties. but never this bad.
“Good, you’re here.” Mindy turned around, relieved. “We need to leave, now.”
A groan escaped the raven-haired girl’s mouth as she sat back against the bathtub. It was then that you got a good look at her face, the first time you did in months. Suddenly it felt hard to breathe.
“Tara, come on. I’m taking you home,” you said.
Her eyes opened slowly. They were glazed over, but there was a moment where her eyes met yours and you thought she had sobered up, but soon after she pulled herself upright, groaning again before staggering out of the bathroom.
“Tara, where are you going, man?” Chad asked, dejected.
She didn’t respond.
Without an answer, she found the near bottle, not caring what its content was, and felt for an empty red solo cup.
You scoffed and took the cup from her. “I think you’ve had enough, don’t you think?”
“I don’t care what you think. Give it back.” Tara protested and reached for the cup in your hand, which you have extended far beyond her reach, the other arm pushing against her. Her frustration was apparent as she shoved you aside with a cry. “Get the fuck away from me!”
“Tara, enough.”
She held your gaze like there was fire in her eyes. Her lips wobbled, as she looked back at her friends behind you with a betraying look. You knew you had won from the way she pulled her arm away from you roughly, and looked out at the ground like a scolded child.
“I’m taking you home.” Your voice softened and gestured towards the door. Tara staggered towards the exit but crumbled against a wall like a piece of paper. You quickly grasped her hand to support her, but she swatted your hand away and made her way outside herself.
You sighed and turned towards the Meeks-Martin twins. “We’ll be okay. You guys can stay if you want.” The twins looked at each other and shrugged before going their separate ways back into the party.
You found her on the lawn, squatting on the ground and groaning.
“Come on, don’t be stubborn.” You rolled your eyes and tapped your foot impatiently. “I was in the middle of revision.”
It was a weird sight, seeing her in the passenger seat of your car again after you had made it your mission to get rid of everything inside that reminded you of her; a half-drunken water bottle in the door compartment, a few hair ties in the cup holder, her forgotten sunglasses in the glove compartment. You had thrown all of it away before proceeding to have a mental breakdown in the driver’s seat.
“Jesus, who the fuck puts the seat so far back?” You heard the girl next to you mutter, as she scrambled to pull the seat forward.
You looked out your window to hide the grin that made its way onto your lips. Tara was smaller than your average passenger, and that seat hadn’t been seen so far up in a while.
“Can I go now?” You said mockingly.
“Yes,” you heard her mumble into the window, propping her face on her hand.
The ride back to her apartment was mostly silent, except for the handful of times you heard quiet gags next to you, to which you grimaced and handed her a plastic bag you found lying around.
“Please don’t barf in my car. I don’t think I can forgive you for that.”
At a red stop, you grabbed your phone to check the time; 12:16am. You felt her eyes on you, her inebriated, yet dreamy eyes, that you knew if you looked you wouldn’t be able to look away. Try as you might, you couldn’t resist. Her body was shifted so that her head was resting against the window and her legs pressed against her chest. But what made your breath hitch was the way those eyes were trained on you. There wasn’t any sign of that hatred or fury or whatever she felt that was spilling out of her with the alcohol; with her bangs tousled over half her face and hooded eyelids like this, Tara just looked lost and defeated, and in need of a kiss.
She always looked like this, in need of cuddles and kisses, after parties and you were always ready to take care of her.
The red light on her face shifted to green, and you quickly pressed the gas pedal to bring her back home, then you could go back home, and everything would be back to the way it was.
You’d be happily carrying on with your life without Tara in it.
Despite rejecting your help earlier, she did end up needing it when both of you dragged each other up the stairs (you more than her) to her apartment. The light in the hallway was off, which meant her sister wasn’t home.
You tried to set her down gently, but she threw herself onto the bed like a body bag, face-first.
You called her name once, twice.
“Huh?”
“Are you gonna sleep in that?”
“Uh-huh.”
“In a full face of makeup too?”
No reply. You shook your head and pulled her sitting up, and shed her jacket.
But she was still looking at you, the way she did in the car. You sat there, dumbfounded.
You had to go, revision was waiting.
“Wait,” she said, grasping your hand.
You refused to look at her.
She sounded like she didn’t know what she wanted from you either. There were noises of hesitancy coming out of her mouth, but nothing to convince you.
Until she said, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.”
“I’m sorry,” she pressed.
“No,” you shook your head, and tried to leave, but she had grasped your arm desperately.
“Wait, please.”
You were grateful for the dark room, because you were sure you had tears in your eyes.
“I was scared that they’d hurt you. I thought you’d be safe away from me.”
You shook your head. “No, no. You can’t do this. I was just getting over you.”
Your pleas fell on deaf ears, as she tilted your face to her, resting her forehead on yours.
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
“Tara, please.”
She cupped your cheeks softly. You could smell the alcohol in her breath when she leaned in. You couldn’t stop it—you’d be the biggest criminal if you did—when her lips tasted so sweet.
Tara sighed, and pressed her body flushed against yours.
You remembered the night you were kissing her, just like this, when the attack came. You just wanted to protect her, to keep her behind you in case the masked killer got to her, but the next moment there was just so much blood. You were told you almost flatlined twice. Tara thought that was enough and ended things.
“You told me that I was a liability,” you said quietly.
“You know I didn’t mean that. I just thought it’d be easier for you . . .” Tara shook her head. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
You thought you were imagining her saying it, but she might as well have without the accountability of sobriety. Tara Carpenter apologizing, now that’s a sight to see.
In the midst of the haze, she had pulled you on top of her on the bed, still kissing you like her life depended it.
“Tara,” you pulled away, your chest heaving against her. Sitting back up, you let out a shaky breath.
She was watching you with those doe eyes, her fingers finding their way between yours.
“Will you tell me all of this when you’re sober?” You asked, but you knew what the answer was.
“Yeah,” you breathed out. That’s what I thought.
You kissed her forehead softly and left without another word.
Tara Carpenter, as much as she vehemently denies it, was still very much haunted by her past. As much as you loved her, you wouldn’t let yourself be dragged down that rabbit hole, not again.
It might have started raining. You couldn’t quite tell because the streets were already glossy from the blur of your tears.
#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter imagine#tara carpenter imagines#tara carpenter angst#scream vi#tara carpenter#jenna ortega x reader
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WHEN THEY’RE JEALOUS ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚
⋆ ★ movies :: scream ,, scream v ,, scream vi
characters used ᝰ.ᐟ billy loomis / stu macher / sidney prescott / wes hicks / ethan kirsch (landry) / tara carpenter / mindy meeks martin / chad meeks martin
🎧 cw — jealousy (obvi) ,, violence and dark themes (only for the ghost faces) ,, possessiveness ,, gn!reader except for stu and mindys part !!!
——————————————————————————
ೄྀ࿐ BILLY LOOMIS ˊˎ-
billy doesn’t really get jealous often. he’s extremely self-confident in himself and knows that there really is no one better than him. he knows you wouldn’t dare leave him for another, but that doesn’t stop the occasional feeling of possessiveness creeping through his mind at the sight of seeing you with another guy.
he definitely doesn’t mention it to you, not wanting you to know that the sight got to him, even if it was only slightly, and resorts to sending a glare in the person of interests direction when you’re not facing him. the second you turn around he gives you a sweet toothy smile, both cunning and sly all the same and he makes sure to lock eyes with the person while bringing you in for a deep kiss, hand gripping your face securely as if you were a possession.
and of course, he’d send stu to kill the person later that night; not feeling like their death was worth his own time.
彡 “billy, hey.” turning to greet your boyfriend with a chastened and quick kiss to his mouth, he hums, savoring the feeling of your lips moving against his that was all too short in his opinion.
“hey doll.” the corners of his mouth itched up, a smirk creasing over his face that held mischief, a dark sense of playful fun as he observed you, eyes quickly flicking from you to the boy you were currently talking to. he looked at the kid for not longer than a few seconds before returning his stone cold gaze back to you, like the man wasn’t good enough for his eyes to settle on.
“who you talking to?” he asks, only a hint of actual curiosity lingering in his voice, meeting your eyes with his and wrapping an arm around your lower body.
“oh, this is daniel. he’s in my history class.”
billy hums, returning his eyes back to the boy, who’s name was apparently daniel, in an almost predatory way. daniel felt unease through his veins as the loomis boy studied him, and smiled a bit. “nice to meet you.” he said, and billy nodded with a straight face, suddenly holding out his hand to shake. daniel accepted the gesture, loosely shaking his hand but finding himself wincing a bit at the intensity of the blonde haired boys grip.
“im billy. (y/n)‘s boyfriend.” quick to annunciate the boyfriend bit, daniel took the hint, gulping but nodding in understandment.
“alright well, i gotta run. ill see you tomorrow.” excusing himself from the conversation, daniel walks away from the scene, shaking his hand a bit as a way to soothe some of the pain from the hand crushing grip billy had him in; and you were completely oblivious as billy smirked in victory, guiding you back to the school parking lot and quickly taking out his flip phone to text stu about their next possible victim.
ೄྀ࿐ STU MACHER ˊˎ-
unlike billy, stu is an extremely jealous cretin who quickly doubts himself when it comes to his worth in the relationship. after his very first girlfriend, casey becker, left him in the snap of her fingers for a jock, he was left to be decently insecure.
he would do anything to prevent you from having any male interaction and if he could he would have a camera on you at all times to watch you go about your day and see how you’re interacting with others who aren’t him. when he actually witnesses you talking to a guy, he’s quick to jump in.
he’s not subtle at all about it and immediately gets very touchy with you, kissing your cheek and neck in front of the dude as a ‘joke’ and goes out of his way to mock and make fun of the person in question. he will whine and beg you to leave and once you’re away from the person he asks you millions of questions, especially whether or not you were attracted to them.
just like billy, he wants the person dead and for the rest of the day all he can think about is ripping their intestines out and crucifying them to a wall. his imagination runs wild with all the ways he wanted to kill him. he asks billy about it, but billy couldn’t be bothered to care that much and unless it was really, genuinely bothering stu he’d tell him to take care of it himself. after the first three guys billy had helped stu kill all cause of his jealousy, he couldn’t be bothered anymore and he knew you would start to get suspicious. every guy you talked to was disappearing at this rate.
彡 “hey babe, who’s this?” stu jogs up to you from behind, almost crashing into your back as he slings an arm around your shoulder lazily and looks at you with a shit eating grin.
“jackson.” the man introduces himself before you can to the macher killer, and stu swivels his head to the boy. his jealousy only furthering deeper as he noticed the man to be wearing a school football uniform, a jock.
“aww, i wasn’t asking you, jason.” stu’s face falls completely and you turn to him with a devastated look, feeling embarrassed in front of your classmate. “i was asking my beautiful girlfriend.” he pulls you closer to him, his big signature wide mouth smile making its way back over his face. “dont you think she’s beautiful? isn’t she just so pretty? come on jerry you can be honest, my girlfriends hot, isn’t she?” the boys tone had drastically went from playful to deadly, like he was testing him
“stu macher, this is my english teachers teaching assistant!” you warn, your face flushing a red color at stu’s outburst but your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care at all as he doesn’t even look at you, taking a bit of a step closer to the jock.
“oh, so you’re smart then, huh? well, clearly not that much, wearing something as tacky as that. you get dressed in the dark this morning?” he sticks his tongue out, laughing at his own joke and apparently thinking it was the funniest thing in the world as he starts to giggle with a crazed look in his eye, and though jackson felt offended and wanted nothing more than to step forward and suckerpunch macher right in the face, something about the way his eyes held mania and instability freaked the jock out.
he scoffed, rolling his eyes and walking away from the couple. jackson doesn’t even make it three feet away and you can’t get the words out to scold your boyfriend for his behavior before he’s turning you to face him and holding both your shoulders, a serious look on his face.
“babe, be honest with me, did you think he’s cute?”
ೄྀ࿐ SIDNEY PRESCOTT ˊˎ-
sidney was a fairly innocent girl who wasn’t used to all the feelings that came along in a relationship, and she never could quite put a label on the word she felt when she saw you talking to other girls. not every girl, just the ones who in her own eyes were particularly pretty or were openly flirty.
she found it hard to trust again after her last relationship, obviously not ending well since he killed all/most her friends and then tried to go after her, but after some time once she started to heal and you showed her love and how a healthy relationship should look and act she was quick to ease into the breath of fresh air you gave her.
she pouts a bit when she’s jealous, and she doesn’t make too big of a deal out of it. depending on her scale of jealousy she’d either mention it briefly to you so you could reassure her or she’d just make sure to be extra lovey with you the rest of the day to earn more of your love and give you extra of hers.
unlike stu or billy she doesn’t make herself present in the conversation, she’ll usually glance from a distance and maybe bring it up to her friends to ask about the girl you were talking to. not that she’d do anything with the information anyway. if she ends up meeting the girl, whether it’s while she’s with you or running into her when it’s just the two of them, she’s very friendly and would even try befriending the person to see the kind of people you surround yourself with.
彡 sidney watched from a short distance the interaction you shared with a girl who’s face was unfamiliar to her. she stood by her locker, face half hidden by the door and taking a glance in your direction every couple minutes.
she couldn’t deny that there was something about seeing you talk to another girl who in her mind was one of the most gorgeous people she’s ever seen, definitely far prettier than her, making her stomach twist and turn with uneasiness.
gnawing her lip a bit she tried to pay no mind to it, being respectful as she waited for you to finish your conversation so you could walk home together like you usually do. her patience worked as it often did, and within minutes she felt your hands snake around her back, and a sweet kiss being pressed to her temple. “hey sid.” you greeted, and she hummed, leaning her weight back into your arms.
“hi.” her voice rasped, a soft and gentle whisper and a smile made its way to her features while she turned around to face you, holding her hand out for you to take, which you gladly did.
“ready to go?”
“yeah.” she smiled, and you briskly leaned in to connect your lips with hers. her heart fluttered at the action and all her worries melted away. there was no reason to be jealous, she was definitely overreacting. she trusted you and the love you had for her.
ೄྀ࿐ WES HICKS ˊˎ-
by nature, wes was a very trusting and caring person. he’s gotten jealous maybe a total of two times throughout your entire relationship. he may have occasional worries, but it’s not typically jealousy he feels. he gets more insecure than he does jealous and reflects it on himself; wondering if he’s really good enough to be your boyfriend.
he is often very protective over you and while there are times you notice his body tense or a light touch of his hand pressed to the small of your back it’s not really jealousy he’s feeling, growing up in a household where his mother is a cop he was raised to be on high alert at all times; afraid a guy might do something to mess with you or make you uncomfortable.
however, on the very very few occasions where it’s jealousy he’s feeling rather than simple protectiveness, he seems to go eerily quiet. his eyes dart back and fourth from your face to the persons, studying your interaction and the body language you’re giving off. if asked about it he’ll brush it off as nothing and force a reassuring smile that fades the second you look away and forms again when you look back.
he won’t mention it ever again and within a few hours he’s back to his normal self. but unless you’re able to notice his jealousy the second it starts, he’s not one to talk or ask about it.
彡 the sun was shining down on the both of you as you sat outside against the tree located right outside tara’s house. you had made plans with all of your friends to have a big hangout and like usual you and your boyfriend had strayed off from the rest of the group to have some alone time.
wes was always huge on private intimacy and liked it better when it was just the two of you. not anything against his friends, he loved all of them, it was just nice to spend time with just his partner. mindy, tara and chad payed no attention as the couple wondered off outside and perched themselves against a woodsy tree. wes had his back completely against the tree, legs widened while you sat between them, your back on his chest and his head on his shoulder while he held onto your body with protective arms; his muscles flexing against you.
you were laughing at something the bleached-haired boy had said when your alone time was cut short, the sound of a door opening and chad stepping outside.
“what’re you two losers doing?” he asked, a teasing lopsided grin on his face as he approached you two after closing the door.
“hey chad, just hanging out.” you greet him with a smile and wes greets him with a ‘hey’ as well, still keeping his arms secured around you.
“mind if i join you? those two girls are kind of driving me crazy right now.” he chuckles, sitting down in front of the both of you and not paying any mind to the fact that you were both cuddled up. “(y/n), you should’ve stayed inside. mindy started recreating a scene from the mummy, it was sorta funny but made me concerned about my relations to her.” you don’t question why chad had aimed the conversation towards you but it’s enough for wes’ jaw to clench against your shoulder before he brought his head up all together and off of you.
“really? wow, im sorry i missed it.” you laugh a bit and chad smiles and laughs with you as you do. you wish you could see your boyfriends face right now as he then removed his arms from around you as well, but since you were sitting up against him you couldn’t turn around and see without making it obvious.
you try not to pay any attention to his sudden change in behavior as you continue making friendly banter with chad, noticing wes completely going mute until he dismisses himself with a toothless smile and a small apology, going back inside and leaving you and chad alone and confused.
ೄྀ࿐ ETHAN LANDRY ˊˎ-
ethan gets jealous over you almost every other day, sometimes just by simply thinking about you with someone else. he doesn’t even have to see you talk to someone, or flirt, or interact; he often accidentally makes himself jealous at the idea of being jealous. when he’s jealous he then gets flustered, and has no idea how to express the way he’s feeling.
when he actually sees someone flirting with you though, it ignites a fire in him that would sometimes scare himself. obviously he’s a violent guy, but when it comes to a potential threat between your relationship it only intensifies. he’d kill the person in the most brutal way imaginable, even torturing or fucking with them before hand.
assuming you don’t yet know about his ghostface identity, he’s still the sweet, awkward and adorable ethan youve grown to know and love. in the moment he won’t do much about it, maybe standing behind you and locking eye contact with the person, resting a hand on your hip with fragility and having mock friendliness. the second they leave though is when he gets more vocal about it, pestering you with questions and dread spilling throughout his body the more he thinks about it.
however if you were already aware of his identity he wouldn’t bother to hide his disdain, looking at the mystery person with pure unfiltered disgust and hatred as he kept you close to him and dismissed you from the conversation himself. if they dared to try and intervene or call him out on his behavior they’d better prepare for a good beating, he wouldn’t hesitate before pushing them to the ground and kicking them in the stomach and all over their body repeatedly like a typical 80s bully. he’d come back for the final kill another time when you weren’t with him.
彡 “can we go? im tired.” a very grumpy brunette mumbled from his spot next to you, defensively staring at the male you were talking to. an ‘old friend’ of yours.
“one second e,” you dismissed him without so much as a glance, continuing in your conversation with the guy in front of you. he was maybe 5’10, dark brown hair and hazel green eyes that ethan imagined running red with blood and tears. ethan could definitely take him in a fight.
he was quiet for about a whole minute before he sighs, rather loudly, glancing around the room and waiting for you to notice him. when you don’t face him at his first sigh, ethan let’s out a second huff of air, louder this time.
and you ignore him again. and he sighs again. and again. and agai-
“ethan, i swear to god.” you lecture, finally turning to face him and the guy in front of you laughs a bit at the two of you, which only makes ethan feel angrier.
“im tired. please can we go. pleasee!” he whines, articulating his best puppy dog eyes as he bats his long and dark lashes at you. and of course it works, it always does.
you agree, waving your friend goodbye who understands and sends you off with a smile. as you walk back to your dorms the questions finally roll in.
who was that guy? where’d you meet? did he go to school with the both of you? how long have you known him? what’s his relationship with his family like? do you think hes funny?
you humor him as much as you can before the questions start to get more and more invasive and you finally shut him down, leaving him with a pout as he sadly stares at the floor, making you feel bad and quickly cupping his face and peppering kisses all over. he smiles finally.
by the end of the day, none of the questions actually mattered. ethan decided already the second you approached him that he was a dead man.
ೄྀ࿐ TARA CARPENTER ˊˎ-
contrary to popular belief, tara could actually get jealous quite frequently. though it’s not as often as others on the list, she’s lost a good amount of people in her life and isn’t about to risk loosing the few she now has left.
when she’s jealous she can get snappy as well as sarcastic, to both you and the person she’s feeling jealous of. it’s either that, or she’s just sickeningly nice to both of you to mask her feelings. so sweet in fact that it’s mostly taken as being mocked by the one on the receiving end, which is usually what it is anyway.
she’ll stand by you as you converse, her arms crossed defensively and an rbf like you’ve never seen, but if you try to leave the conversation or ask her if something’s up she’ll tell you to just keep talking to the other person in an annoyed voice.
彡 “you’re so funny!” you blush a bit, embarrassed by the sudden compliment and attention you were receiving from the girl in front of you that originally only approached you for a question she had about the homework in the math class you shared.
“you’re SO funny!” behind you, an annoyed tara mocks the girl, raising her voice to sound high pitched and squeaky as she defensively held her arms crossed against her chest.
“tara,” you mumble, glancing at her expectantly and she sends you a glare, huffing and turning her head away from the both of you.
the girl in front of you awkwardly scratches her head and you give her a sympathetic smile. “thank you maria. ill see you tomorrow.” she nods, sending you an appreciative smile back before glancing at your girlfriend for a second and then quickly away as she realizes the girl was already glaring in her direction before walking away from the two of you.
you sigh, turning to face your girlfriend who still looks pissed off, a grouchy look on her face and arms crossed as she meets your eyes. “tara.” you repeat her name, saying so many things without saying another word. she sighs, dropping her arms back to her sides and looking away from you now in a bit of embarrassment.
“sorry.” she mutters, not meeting your eyes.
“no you’re not.”
she smirks a little. “no im not.”
ೄྀ࿐ MINDY MEEKS MARTIN ˊˎ-
( ↺ please only read mindys if you identify as female !! )
mindy isn’t often the jealous type and doesn’t really see many people if any at all as a threat to her. especially for no reason. the only exception for her small bursts of jealousy is when someone knows you’re dating and still goes out of their way to make a move on you.
when this happens she gets rather ticked off, probably yelling at or lecturing the person for trying to hit on someone while knowing they’re in a happy relationship. and she’ll really specify that happy bit as if to rub it in their face.
her fits don’t last very long and though she may continue to pout over it for maybe 10 minutes max afterwards all it takes is a little reassuring and she’s back to her usual self. all in all, if she’s jealous she’ll speak out about it herself.
彡 “mindy, look at me.” you instruct your girlfriend, who in fact does not look at you as she zones off into the distance with an aggravated expression.
“i do not understand how some people have the nerve. i mean seriously, she knew you had a girlfriend, she knew that girl was me, and she still went out of her way to flirt with you.” rambling on, you’re unable to get the short haired girl’s attention as she’s lost in thought.
“mindy, will you look at me?” you repeat, currently crouched down in front of her while she rocked back and fourth on a recliner.
“it’s just- it’s so frustrating! she’s such a- a- a snake!” this emits a soft chuckle to part from your lips and you finally decide to just make your girlfriend look at you instead of desperately calling out for her which didn’t seem to be working.
“i love you.” you affirm, cupping the both of her cheeks. the martin girl blushes a bit, taken off guard.
“what?”
“i love you.”
“i love you too, baby.” she smiles, and you lean up to initiate a soft kiss, her current thoughts pausing temporarily.
by the time you pull away she’s looking at you like you’re the only thing left in the world, cheekily smiling while you continue holding her face in your hands.
“sorry for making a scene back there.” she apologies, referring to back when the entire situation went down and she ended up yelling at the girl who was trying to make a move on you in the first place.
“it’s okay. it was cute. turned me on a little.”
“oh yeah?”
“yeah.” you giggled, and mindy was fast to forget about the entire situation as her priorities shifted entirely to you.
ೄྀ࿐ CHAD MEEKS MARTIN ˊˎ-
depending on how long the two of you have been together is how chad would go about handling his own jealousy. if the relationship is fairly new or it’s only in the talking stage, he’s the type to go flirt with someone else to make you jealous back, even though you weren’t doing it intentionally.
if you’re about 3 months or so into the relationship though or if he’d liked you for a really long time he wouldn’t resort to that. instead he’d try his best to intimidate the person, keep an arm around you and amplify his personality.
he’d constantly interrupt the two of you rather rudely and make his own conversation, add his own thoughts or ask random questions to the stranger. he’s shameless about it too and does it all with a smile. he’d be friendly enough to the person, trying to make his own opinion on them.
would definitely be unnecessarily affectionate, holding your hand and pressing kisses to the back of your palm or making you randomly sit on one of his legs while bouncing you up and down.
彡 you groaned a bit, your boyfriend now interrupting the conversation for what felt like the twentieth time as he continued to make his presence known, both arms hung over your shoulders as he has you pressed into his chest and his head hovering over yours.
“chad, honey, what are you doing?” you finally ask, excusing yourself for a moment from your friend to talk privately.
“what?” he feigns obliviousness, a knowing smirk on his face as he reached his hands out for you again, pulling you closer to him and resting his hands on your waist.
“you know what.” you sigh, hating the fact you were already trying to fight back a smile the boy made contort on your face.
“just tryna get to know your friends.” he shrugged, leaning a little closer to you. “seeing what’s up. making sure there’s no competition.”
you roll your eyes, finally a small laugh leaving your lips.
“but chad, i get doing that to my guy friends, i guess, but do you really have to do that to the girls too?”
“what? my sisters gay, im just being precautious. nothing unusual.” he shrugged innocently and you smiled as he pulled you into a hug.
“wait, you have guy friends?”
.ೃ࿐ a/n : this took so long to finish , towards the last couple the quality kinda worsened cause i spent all day writing these and finished those ones at night
started 08.05.23. finished 08.05.23.
( scream masterlist )
©️nolovelingers 2023
#𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ／ ⋆ ۪ NOLOVE FILEZ#PREFERENCES ·˚ ༘#fanfic#ethan landry#ethan landry headcanons#ethan landry x reader#ethan kirsch x reader#ghostface x reader#x reader#tara carpenter#scream franchise#scream vi#scream#billy loomis x reader#stu macher x reader#scream headcanons#mindy meeks x reader#chad meeks x reader#tara carpenter x reader#jenna ortega#jack champion x reader#jack champion#sydney prescott x reader#sydney prescott#scream x reader#wes hicks x reader#wes hicks#mindy meeks martin#billy loomis#stu macher
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CORE 4 SUPREMACY
#scream#scream 6#scream vi#tara carpenter#sam carpenter#mindy meeks martin#chad meeks martin#jenna ortega#sidney prescott#gale weathers#dewey riley
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This isn't Your Fault
Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader
Summary: “Tara,” you said, the calmness of your voice surprising you. “This isn’t you fault.”
Warnings: Violence
Word Count: 3.3k+
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
“Hey, babe,” you answered the phone cheerfully. “How was the party?” Tara had begged you to go to the frat party, but you declined. As much as you loved the girl, there was no way in hell she was going to get you to go to a frat party. You already hated parties and socializing in general. There was nothing in the world that could convince you to go to something that involved both, especially when all the people involved would be drinking.
“Ugh,” Tara groaned. “It was going great until Sam showed up and tased someone in the balls.”
“I’m sorry?” you weren’t sure you heard her right, it sounded like she said her sister tased someone in the balls. You opened a cabinet, grabbing a glass.
“There was some drunk frat douche who may have been trying to get me to come upstairs with him.”
“Oh my god, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” You knew Tara was smiling into her phone just from the way her voice softened, it brought a smile to your face as well.
Tara loved when someone cared about her. She loved when someone cared enough to be there for her and protect her. You knew that, just from the way her eyes always lit up when you’d check in or instantly come over if she was having a bad day. You saw it in the way despite wanting freedom from her sister, she still respected her and wanted her approval. You and Tara had been dating for over six months now and she still refused to introduce you to her sister. You had met her friends but none of them knew you guys were dating. You understood, truly, after what they had all been through you got that they were hesitant to trust strangers. Even though she said she was afraid of how Sam would react, and that she’d scare you off you knew the real reason Tara didn’t want to introduce you yet was because she was afraid Sam wouldn’t approve of you.
You believed your relationship with Tara was stronger than that, that Tara wouldn’t break up with you just because her sister or friends didn’t like you. You knew it would make things difficult though. If they didn’t like you, or really if Sam didn’t like you, you knew Tara would be hurt. She’d be torn between being with you and knowing her sister didn’t approve. Which is why until Tara was ready, you were more than happy to wait to officially meet Sam.
“Chad stopped the guy, getting into a fight in the process,” Tara continued.
You smiled at that; you knew there was always a reason you liked Chad. “Good,” you said instead.
“Then Sam showed up and the tasing happened,” she let out a long sigh. “I just want a normal life.”
“I know,” you whispered sympathetically. “You know she just wants to keep you safe though, right?”
Tara groaned, causing you to laugh. “I know,” she mumbled. “This is just the exact reason why I won’t introduce you.” You could imagine Tara throwing up her hands as she said that. “She wants me to open up and share with her but then when I try to have a life outside of the friend group, she tases someone!”
“Whenever you decide to introduce me, I’m sure it will go fine.” You reached above the island, grabbing one of the pans hanging and set it on the stove. “I’m sure I won’t get tased.” You walked around the island, moving to grab the food you intended to have for dinner before pausing in your tracks. “Right?” you asked hesitantly with an awkward chuckle before you got to moving again.
“Maybe,” Tara mumbled. Your steps paused again, you wanted to meet the most important person in Tara’s life, but Tara was making it incredibly difficult for you to not be terrified of her sister. “Just stand behind me when that eventual meeting happens.”
You let out a nervous chuckle. You were sure it would go fine. You were sure that Sam would probably glare at you and maybe judge you right away, assuming you were out to get them or something. You hoped though that eventually Sam would warm up to you. You were sure Sam could be scary, you’d seen her staring down anyone who so much glanced at her wrong when she followed Tara somewhere, she was certainly one intimidating woman. You knew she was really just incredibly protective over her little sister, a bit overprotective if you asked Tara.
Her friends weren’t much different, at least Mindy and Chad, the ones who survived Woodsboro with them. You had met them in casual settings, at parties, in the library, and even shared a class with Mindy. They were all a tight knit group, they talked with others but letting someone in their friend group was a process apparently. When you eventually officially met them, you were sure you’d be interrogated by Mindy and Chad would probably be like Sam, glaring at you from across the room. Out of the three of them Tara said Mindy was the calmer more reasonable one, but she could get a little intense when she was going over a suspect list or accusing people of murders.
Mindy was the one you were the least worried about. You actually had a couple classes with Anika and worked together on a few papers. You still hadn’t met Mindy enough to walk up and talk to her, but she would give you a nod if she saw you and she was always nice when she came to pick Anika up from a study session. She would also usually squint at you, watching you for anything suspicious but she did that with most people, so you didn’t take it personally.
“My fearless protector,” you said softly.
“Shut up,” Tara said.
You chuckled, shaking your head. Tara was short and everyone underestimated her. The truth was she had just as much fight in her as her sister. Whenever you were out if someone made a rude comment or God forbid hit on you, Tara would shoot them a furious glare that would make anyone on the receiving end wish they were dead. There was even one time when you were out and someone recognized Tara, then the moron decided to make a comment about Sam, and you were lucky to pull Tara out of there before the police could be called. She about launched herself over the table, arms already out and ready to strangle the man.
Your laughter quickly ended when you heard a creak. You froze, your breath catching in your throat. You didn’t take the phone away from your ear as you glanced down the hall. You didn’t see anyone, and the front door was still closed. You were the only one home, your parents being out of town for the week. You swore you heard the floor creak though. Every fiber of your body told you to not go down the hall, the little alarm going off in your head screaming that something wasn’t right.
“You, okay?” Tara asked. You could hear the concern in her voice.
“Yeah,” you answered distractedly. You cleared your throat saying, “Yeah,” again more convincingly. “So, what’s planned for the rest of the night?” you decided to change the subject.
“Sleep,” Tara mumbled. “I’m already starting to feel this hangover. Can I come over tomorrow?”
“Is that a good idea?” You swung around the island, resting your hand on the refrigerator door. “I doubt Sam will want you out of her sight after tonight.”
“Fuck what she wants. I miss you,” she whined.
You glanced up from the floor, catching the reflection of a white mask in the window as you opened the fridge door. You swallowed, preparing yourself for what was about to happen.
“Tara,” you said, the calmness of your voice surprising you. “This isn’t you fault.”
“What?” she asked, confused.
You slammed the refrigerator door closed, spinning around to face your attacker just as he swung his knife, the metal blade clashing against the steel fridge door. You ran towards the stove, letting your phone clatter onto the island as you empty your hands to grab the pan you had intended to use to cook dinner.
You brought the pan up just as Ghostface brought his knife down towards you. The sound of metal against metal filling the air. You moved the pan, blocking every slash and every stab. At one point when he went to stab you instead of blocking you brought the pan up, swinging it down hard on his hand that held the knife. He groaned, dropping the knife in the process. You brought the pan back up, whacking him across the face. He stumbled to the side, catching himself on the counter. You brought the pan down on his head again. While he was down on his knees you turned and ran, reaching over the island to grab your phone again.
You ran down the hall, sliding into the front door, after taking the turn a little too tight. You had your hand on the doorknob when you saw Ghostface already on his feet again, making his way to you. You changed course, running up the stairs to your room instead. You heard the knife impale the front door, cracking the wood as it was yanked out.
You reached your room, slamming the door behind you, knowing it would only buy you a few extra seconds. You jumped on your bed, rolling over the other side as gracefully as you could. You grabbed the baseball bat you always had resting against the wall by your bedside, getting in a swinging position as you stared down the door, waiting for Ghostface to burst through.
You held the phone in your hand, the same one that was gripping the bat. You vaguely heard Tara’s voice coming through the speaker, you knew she must be going out of her mind not knowing what was happening. You wanted to answer her, tell her Ghostface was here and to get out of town as fast as she could. You couldn’t release your grip on the bat though, your eyes were glued to your bedroom door.
The bedroom door shuddered as if someone was pounding on it. With each shake you stepped back, bumping into the wall behind you. You tightened your grip on the bat, your knuckles turning white. When suddenly the shuddering stopped. You held your breath as the doorknob slowly turned, the door squeaking open. Standing in the doorway was Ghostface, knife shining at his side. He tilted his head at you as he stepped into your room, crossing over the invisible threshold.
You and Ghostface watched each other, waiting for the other to make their move. It was so quiet you could swear you heard your own heart beating. In the blink of an eye Ghostface surged forward, launching himself over the bed, he didn’t make it over your bed in one jump though. His feet got caught up in the blankets causing him to stumble down.
You took the opportunity to run around the side of the bed, narrowly missing a swipe of Ghostface’s knife as he swung out at you. You heard a light thud then realized you had a better grip on your bat, you had dropped your phone. You slid to a stop just as you hit the stairs, gripping the railing so you didn’t go flying down them. You quickly recovered, rushing down the steps as quick as possible. Part of you wanted to go back for your phone but you knew doing so would only end in your death.
You got to the front door, turning the knob to unlock it then flung the door open. Ghostface stomped down the steps, jumping when he was halfway, slamming his body into the open door, effectively closing it again. You stumbled back, barely getting out of the way of the door about to crush your arm.
Ghostface pushed himself off the door with a grunt, jumping right at you. He knocked you to the ground, the force of his tackle causing you to let go of your bat.
You looked at your bat, rolling just out of reach. You looked back up, seeing Ghostface hovering over you. He gripped his knife in his right hand, swiftly bringing it down towards your chest.
You caught his wrist just as the knife touched your shirt, pushing back against him so it was now hovering a few inches from your chest. He brought his other hand over, putting more weight on the hand with the knife. It inched closer and closer to your chest. You stared up at the white mask, into the hollow black eyes. You knew there was a person behind the mask, but you couldn’t make out any features.
You kicked your legs, trying to get any leverage on him. You brought your knee up, knowing for sure he was a he by the way he groaned, loosening his grip on the knife. You knocked the knife out of his hand, rolling out from under him in the processes.
He moved slowly, still clearly in pain from your hit. He reached over, stretching out his hand towards his knife. You were closer, reaching up and smacking it across the floor.
You were on your knees about to pull yourself up the rest of the way when you looked up seeing Ghostface standing above you, he had recovered before you. He sent three swift kicks to your stomach, knocking the breath out of you. You rolled over onto your back, looking up at him as you gasped for breath.
You rolled over again, trying to bring yourself back to your feet, there was no way you were going down without a fight. Your hands were spread out, face down on the floor to help push you up. Ghostface walked closer to you, the only thing you saw were his boots stopping before you.
Ghostface lifted his leg high, bringing his heavy combat boot down onto your hand. He gave his boot a final twist, allowing you to hear the crunch of your bones before he took his foot away. You rolled back onto your back, clutching your hand as you screamed in pain. Tears were already streaming down your face as you tried to regain control of your breathing.
Ghostface walked around you, moving towards his knife. You pressed your injured hand to your chest, reaching out towards your bat with the other hand. Ghostface forgot about his knife, kneeling down in front of you, tilting his head as he watched you struggle trying to reach the bat. He picked the bat up just as your fingertips grazed the handle.
He stood above you, tilting his head as he shook the bat back and forth in a taunting manor before raising it above his head.
“No!” you screamed right before Ghostface brought the bat down onto your ribs.
He brought the bat down again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
The force of his swings never letting up. You struggled to catch your breath. Gasping for air as you took short shallow breaths, you couldn’t take a deep breath.
There was what sounded like tires screeching outside. Through bleary vision you could see Ghostface look up and out the window before dropping your bat with a clang and bolting towards the backdoor.
“Y/N!” someone shouted. You blinked your eyes slowly, your eyelids becoming heavy.
The next thing you were aware of was a warm pressure on your shoulder. You turned your head to see a hand resting on your shoulder. Your eyes trailed from the hand, up an arm, and to a face, your girlfriends face, Tara’s face. You saw blurry figures beside her that you couldn’t make out. You could only stare into Tara’s worried eyes. She seemed to be sobbing, her mouth was moving but you couldn’t hear the words coming out before your eyes slowly shut, everything going black.
When you opened your eyes again you were in a dark room, panic instantly shot through you. You tried to sit up, instantly hissing in pain. You sucked in a breath but once again, pained shot through you. You dropped your head back down, taking small breaths. It didn’t feel like you were on the hard wood floor anymore, whatever was behind your head felt soft and fluffy. Your eyes darted all around the room, not recognizing your surroundings, the walls were bare and basic, you didn’t know where you were.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Tara whispered softly, her tear-stained face appearing above you. “You’re okay,” she gripped your hand tightly with her own, brushing your hair out of your face with her other hand. “You’re in the hospital.”
“Wh-what are you doing here?” you rasped out, your dry mouth the least of your worries because each word caused pain to shoot through you.
“I needed to make sure you were okay.” You caught movement out of the side of your eye, seeing someone else had been in the room and was slipping out to give you and Tara privacy. You didn’t get a good visual and you’d only ever seen pictures Tara showed you, but it almost looked like Sam.
“You-you need to get out of town.” You gritted your teeth, trying to swallow the pain. “You need to get somewhere safe.”
“No, no, I’m not leaving you,” she shook her head as if she couldn’t believe you said that. “I’m not leaving you,” she repeated, leaving you no more room to argue.
Your eyes drifted to your hand not intertwined with Tara’s, it was wrapped in a cast. The cast covered your entire hand, going up all your fingers, leaving only your pointer one free, then it stretched down just past your wrist so you couldn’t bend it. The only thought that went through your mind oddly was that you were just glad it hadn’t been your dominant hand.
You looked back up at Tara, noticing she was staring at your injured hand as well. “How are you feeling?” she asked, not able to peel her eyes away from the cast.
“If I sit completely still and don’t breathe then the pain is only agonizing,” you answered. “Instead of excruciating.”
“I’m sorry,” Tara whispered, tears already beginning to fill her eyes.
“This wasn’t your fault,” you tried to lean up, instantly wincing in pain as you slowly lowered yourself back down again. “Please don’t cry.” You untangled your hand from hers, reaching up to brush the few stray tears that had begun to fall. “This wasn’t your fault.”
“If it wasn’t for me, you never would have been targeted,” her voice cracked.
You shook your head. “No, no, it’s not your fault a psycho wants to hurt you. This isn’t on you. I love you.” You tilted her chin until she was looking you in the eye. “I love you,” you whispered again.
“I love you too,” she leaned forward, resting her forehead against yours, a few of her tears dripping down onto you.
“This was a hell of a way to meet your sister,” you said, trying to break the tension.
Tara leaned back into her chair, wrapping her hand in yours again. “And you still haven’t even officially met yet,” she chuckled.
“Damn,” you sighed. “I was hoping unconscious me had already done all the work.”
“At least she knows you aren’t potentially a Ghostface,” Tara joked.
You laughed, instantly wincing in pain. “Don’t joke.”
“I’m sorry,” she smiled down at you. “She does want to officially meet you though.”
“Can’t wait,” you whispered. You closed your eyes as Tara stroked her fingers through your hair, allowing you to peacefully to drift off to sleep.
#tara carpenter#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter x fem reader#tara carpenter imagine#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#scream#scream 6#scream vi#this isn't your fault
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New exclusive posters for Scream VI by Bosslogic!🔪
#scream vi#scream 6#scream 5#scream#paramount pictures#melissa barrera#jenna ortega#mason gooding#jasmin savoy brown#josh segarra#sam carpenter#tara carpenter#chad meeks martin#mindy meeks martin#danny brackett#ghostface#bosslogic
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SCREAM VI (2023), dir. Tyler Gillett & Matt Bettinelli-Olpin
#scream 6#scream vi#screamedit#filmedit#horroredit#horrorwomensource#usermicu#usermaguire#useraashna#tuserlucie#tuserkei#userfaiths#usercharisse#usertiny#gif#2023#tara carpenter#sam carpenter#ours*#by riel#blood tw
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COLD COFFEE
tara carpenter & fem!detective!reader
tags. mdni! no major warnings, implied sex, this take place after scream vi events.
word count. 3049
a/n. this one is for you, @wesstars 🫶 | masterlist
──
“Think you can warm me up?”
The low request came almost unnoticed by you, making you take a step back and look carefully at the ball of blankets on the couch.
Hidden there, under a couple layers of cozy blankets, a small Tara appeared with a red nose.
You smiled softly at the adorable view in front of you.
“I can’t, babe, I have some reports to look at, and it’s getting late.”
She pouted, looking at you with doe eyes that never failed, wide, soft with shining little stars dancing in the brown as she looks at you.
“Please? Just until I fall asleep.”
How could you say no to that?
You fold in the same second, forgetting that you have long pile of files to look at, carefully placing your mug filled with hot coffee on the side table, you took off your slippers and slid under the thick fabric, opening your arms towards the younger one.
Like she always does, Tara threw her legs over yours and hugged your torso, resting her head on your shoulder.
“You know…” you started, pulling her closer to you. “You wouldn’t feel cold if you wore more than just underwear and a tank top.”
“I don’t need to wear clothes; I have you to keep me warm,” Tara said back, looking at you with soft, sleepy eyes.
You smiled fondly, caressing her thigh with your hand. Leaning forward, you placed a kiss on her forehead, admiring the way the corner of her lips slightly tugged up, eyes closed and tip of nose red, the freckles spread on her face like stars in the dark night; Tara was a work of art.
“I love you so much, did you know that?” You whispered close to her lips.
She wrinkled her nose, “I know, but I don’t mind hearing you saying again, and again…”
Stopping her rambling, you pressed your lips on hers, sighing with such familiar taste of cherry of her lip balm. Tara was all soft, and when she was like this, calm and patient under your touch, it made your heart race.
When you first met her, during a rainy night at the police station, the girl could barely sustain your eyes, always avoiding them and fixating on somewhere or something else, like on her older sister, Sam. She came in because some idiots from a frat house were harassing her and her sister following the events from last year. You didn’t know much about the Carpenter’s sister, it was only your first month as a detective in New York, only heard rumors and whispers about it.
You ignored the others eyes on her, taking off your jacket to cover the small body that was trembling, being closely watched by the older Carpenter. Carefully, you placed the brown leather jacket around her shoulders, taking a couple steps back once you did, giving her a safe space.
Tara went home with your jacket that night, and when she brought it back, leaving it at the front desk, 5 days later, a small note was inside the pocket, written in a delicate handwriting, a small “thank you :)”. You smiled, keeping the note inside and going back to work.
The precinct was a place filled with gossips, theories and lies made up to creep you out. Your colleagues — if you could call them that — weren’t the most delightful people to be around, as most of them were men, you felt misplaced, an outcast, even thought you were on a higher level than them, mere police officers with a giant ego. Respect was a word that, apparently, wasn’t taught to them during life. You could count on your fingers the ones that were truly a nice officer and decent human being.
As the days went by, more talking took over the place, annoying ones that always got your rolling your eyes and ignoring them, the Carpenter sister’s being the subject of it 90% of the time, it’s like the big apple only had two young girls living in it and they were the reason to all the chaos that perpetuate in New York.
One day, late at night, you were finishing some reports to call it a day when a familiar voice caught your attention, the short blonde hair and leather jacket automatically bringing a smile on your face. You closed your computer and stood up, grabbing the brown leather jacket from the chair’s back and tossed over your shoulder.
“You’re too loud, did you know that, agent Reed?”
The woman turned around the same second your known perfume filled the room, a big smile tugging on her lips. She waited for you to get closer, annoyingly punching your arm as a form to say ‘hi’. Standing in front of her, the younger Carpenter was awkwardly looking at you, curiosity in her eyes as she watched you and your old friend interact.
You didn’t notice, but Tara was carefully watching you, the way your eyes light up whenever Kirby said something that happened while you were away from each other, crazy stories like the one where she almost got killed, again, a couple months ago. Funny ones, like when a common friend of yours got scared during a mission and yelled like a little girl because of a cat hidden inside a locker, causing you to throw your head back as you deliciously laughed. She smiled too, tilting her head to admire the way your nose scrunched or how your lips moved when you talked, or how your browns furred when Reed told what happened last year during Halloween, only then your eyes met Tara’s for more than a few seconds, a pinkish color painting her cheeks.
You didn’t know much about it, choosing to ignore the comments as you never knew what was a fact or what was a lie purposefully made up to destroy the sister’s images. All you were aware off, was that the masked killer that terrorized your colleague, and friend’s, life years ago in Woodsborro came back and worked at the precinct.
Kirby wasn’t the type of person that spoke about her fears and the horrors that haunted her over the years, all you knew was what she chose to share and the reason to why she decided to become a detective. You didn’t push her to talk, patiently waited for her to open up to you by choice because she trusted you. It took a long time for the moment to come, but one day, the alcohol in her made her talk and boy… she really had a lot to share, and it was very graphic — you swore you could feel the knife twisting inside you.
And now, with your eyes connected to Tara’s, a girl that seemed so sweet and kind, had gone through the same traumatic event as Reed did and, knowing her the way you did, you could only image the scars that hung onto the young Carpenter’s body and soul. You smiled at her, reaching your hand to hers.
“It’s nice seeing you again, miss Carpenter.”
Her hand was soft, warm and delicate against yours.
“You too, detective.” She smiled, hand still on yours. “I didn’t know you and Kirby knew each other.”
“Well, when I joined the force,” you started, forcing yourself to break the contact. “Reed was the first one to reach out to me and invite me for some beer after out shift.”
“She’s a very quiet girl, but it’s a great listener.” Kirby said with her costumery side smiled. “If you ever need someone to talk to, Tara, she’s the one you can go to.”
You looked at Kirby with pursed lips, head tilting in a silent ‘what the fuck are you doing?’
Tara let out a small laugh, “It’s good to know that, Kirby. If you trust her, then I do too.”
“Well, I don’t believe in that,” you said, licking your lips as you gave your attention to the girl. “I rather earn your trust than Kirby just giving it away. Trust is a very precious and intimate thing, Tara, you should only trust someone you know.”
“In that case, we should get to know each other better.” She smiled. “Don’t you think, detective?”
“I think that’s a great idea, miss Carpenter.”
That night was the first time you went out with Tara; Kirby tagged along in the first two hours but went home after a few rounds of beer, the alcohol getting to her way easier than you remembered. Helping her into the cab, you made sure to share her live location with you before sending her home, an old habit you had acquired after the truth about her life in Woodsboro.
“You know…” Tara started, her index finger messily playing with the sweaty, half empty, beer glass in front of her. “It’s sweet what you did there.”
“What do you mean?”
You have always been strong when it came to alcohol, maybe it was due to your position as a detective or you had a really good regenerating immune system — even a common cold couldn’t get to you.
Tara, apparently, wasn’t like you. She was leaning against the table, playing with the glass cup like a little kid that was sleepy but refused to close her eyes and drift away in slumber. You carefully watched her, afraid that she would eventually fall off the chair.
“The location, I saw you sending her live location to your number.”
You shrugged, taking a sip of your beer. “It’s nothing, really. I just want to make sure she gets home safe.”
“Still,” her hand reached yours on the table, thumb softly brushing your skin. “it’s sweet. You’re sweet.”
“And you’re drunk.” You laughed awkwardly, finishing your beer in one long sip, still allowing her to touch you. “Come on, let’s get you on a cab.”
Her hand grabbed yours when you threatened to stand up, ready to pay the bill. “No, please. I want to get to know you better.”
“We can do that some other time, miss Carpenter.”
“Promise?”
You didn’t like promises, it carried an obligation that you didn’t like, but you just couldn’t get yourself to say no when her big, sparkling eyes stared at your soul.
You sighed with a small smile, “I promise.”
When you were paying the bill, Tara was standing close to you, holding onto your arm as if you were going to run away from her. It was cute, you had to admit as you looked at her while the cashier waited for your card to approve the payment, the different height between you two very noticeable when her head barely reached the top of your shoulder.
Before you could put her inside the cab with her apartment address on it, you made sure to save her phone number and share her location with you, just like you did with Reed over the years.
“Text me when you get home?” Tara asked through the open window when you closed the door for her.
“I will.” You smiled, turning to the old driver. “Take her home safely, please?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You stood there for a few seconds, watching as the yellow car drove away, Tara’s happy face outside the window waving at you. You waved back, heart warm at how adorable she was.
When you got home that night, you weren’t exhausted even after the busy day and all the beer you had, you felt alive and giddy as you texted the newly-added number, telling her you were safe and sound at the comfort of your home. The reply came in the same second, telling you that she was in bed already with a kiss blowing emoji next to it.
Now, a year after that first night out with Tara, you had the young girl sleeping safely in your arms, the morning sun breaking the thick, rainy clouds and invading the apartment, waking you up. Tara was hidden in the hollow of your neck, her calm and heavy breathing tickling your skin, still sleeping soundly.
You looked around the scene, still half asleep. Your coffee mug, now cold, still on the side table. The birds were chirping for the first time in a while since the winter arrived in New York. Some blankets had fallen to the floor, leaving only one covering your bodies. It was true, Tara only needed you to keep her warm.
Feeling your eyes on her, she stirs in her sleep and you’re fast to tighten your arms around her, but after all the incidents that happened around her in the past years, she was a light sleeper.
“You’re suffocating me.” She giggles, hand resting on your neck.
“I should suffocate you after you made me skip work last night.”
“Did I? I don’t remember putting a gun to your head and making you cuddle me.”
Your eyes widened, pulling back just enough to find hers.
“You did worse! You looked at me with Bambi eyes and you know I cannot say no to that.”
She laughs, “You’re very weak for a detective.”
Rolling your eyes, you ignored the fake teasing, caressing the scar on the right side of her belly.
“I’m only weak when it comes to you. You’re my only weakness, Tara.”
Her expressions softened, eyes analyzing your face. She knew you weren’t lying, just like she knew you would do anything to protect her, other than the four core, you were the only one that took her walls down.
“Well, then I guess I’ll have to use this against you so I can have you all to myself.”
“You’ll always have me all to yourself.”
“I know,” she shrugged. “but sometimes work steals you from me.”
You smile, “I have to keep my girlfriend safe, don’t I?”
“I guess you do, but today,” the tip of her fingers slid under the collar of your sweater, noticing the lack of bra; she wet her lips. “I have you all to myself, and I am not letting you go.”
“I certainly don’t want you to.”
Tugging you by the collar, she climbed on top of you, the blanket falling to the floor with the sudden motion.
For the first time you could fully see her as she sat on your hip; black panties and an equally black tank top, slightly wrapped around her thin waist, the tip of her scar visible, messy hair cascading down her shoulders.
Biting your lower lip as your eyes followed her curves, hands on her thigh following to her hip, then her waist in a strong squeeze. When she leaned down, lips oh so close to yours, you jumped when a low clearing of the throat coming from the kitchen filled the room; your instinct quick to pull a blanket from the floor to cover Tara’s body and pull her against you.
Standing in the corner of the brick wall, Sam was avoiding looking in your direction until her sister was fully covered, arms crossed in front of her chest.
“Please, tell me you two weren’t going to have sex on my couch, again.”
Tara hid a laugh against your neck, unlike you — who felt heat rising from your toes all the way up to your face, cheeks burning with Sam’s disgusted look. This wasn’t the first time the older Carpenter walked on the two of you, but it was funny that this happened twice on the same week, at least this time you both were fully covered…
You opened your mouth in an attempt to say something, an apology, or maybe try to convince her that this was not what was happening at all, but all that came out was a struggled sound that caused Tara to laugh muffled against you.
Sam took a deep breath, reaching out for her keys that were settled next to your mug. She adjusted the black beanie as she walked to the door, unlocking the 4 sets of locks and turning to you with a tired expression, “If you two are still on my couch when I come back, we’re gonna have a whole different conversation. Got it?”
You nodded fast.
“Good.”
And left.
You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you’d been holding when you heard the jingling of keys on the other side of the door and distant steps going down the stairs.
Removing the blanket from her head, Tara looked at the closed door before staring at you, a loud and delicious laugh breaking the almost palpable tension that was left in the room.
“How can you laugh like this when your sister walked on us like this, again?” You were in disbelief, heart beating in your throat.
“If you could see your face, you’d laugh too,” she whipped the corner of her eyes, pressing a fast kiss on your lips. “I might be your only weakness, but Sam is your only fear.”
You huffed, agreeing with your girlfriend.
“I’ve seen what she’s capable of, I am not risking having my hands cut off, I’d miss them a lot!”
“Oh, trust me, I know,” she leaned in, hands on the side of your head, a hard grip on the cushions you laid your head on. Tara brushed her lips on yours, a fainted smell of cherries filling your lungs. "I would miss them too... more than you could ever imagine.”
Before you could close the small gap between your lips, the jingling of keys got you sitting up, arms firmly wrapped around the youngest waist, walking to bedroom at the end of the hallway, a giggly Tara clinging to your body for her dear life; you kicked the door close and leaned against it, breath caught up to your throat as you faced Tara with pursed lips.
Sam had her eyes closed when the door swung open, one hand on the door knob and the other covering her face. She had forgotten her cellphone. When she was met with silence, her index finger moved up a little, enough for her to peek at the scene.
The living room was a mess, blankets all over the floor, your slippers and Tara’s lost in between, a couple cushions in the middle as well, but what made her take a deep breath to keep from freaking out was the overturned mug on the side table, cold coffee dripping on the wooden floor.
#✍️#cold coffee#tara carpenter#scream#jenna ortega#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter x y/n#tara carpenter x female reader#tara x reader#tara x y/n#tara x you#tara x female reader#detective reader#scream vi#scream tara#scream vi tara#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x female reader#jenna x reader#jenna x y/n#jenna x female reader#wlw#lesbian#tara carpenter tag#tara carpenter fanfic#1k club#spidey's projects
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Calypso's Curse - Tara Carpenter
Summary: Tara was used to having bad things happen to her all the time. She was used to see people leave her life as if she meant nothing, but she never thought you would be one of those people, especially if she was the one who caused it.
Warnings: Fem!Reader, mentions of violence, angst
Word Count: 5.1k
Second part of Second Best
Tara had gotten used to waking up with the sunlight bothering her eyes and having a strong headache caused by the hangover. Like any other Saturday, she got up slowly and stretched with a grimace, proceeding to go through the rest of her morning routine.
Everything seemed to be as usual until she stepped out of the room and into the kitchen. There she felt the unusual heavy mood in her apartment, normally filled with life and multiple voices chatting animatedly. Something had happened the night before. Something was wrong.
Sam had her back turned, cooking something in a pot that smelled very good. Sitting at the table in front of the stove, their roommate Quinn was scrolling through her phone with no expression until she noticed Tara standing right in front of her. With a playful smile, the redhead lifted her head to face the girl.
"Good morning, roomie. Did you have fun yesterday? I heard it was a blast."
Tara noticed when her sister's back tensed upon hearing about her presence, but she still didn't take her eyes off the stove to even offer a greeting. Flashes from the previous night appeared behind the younger Carpenter's eyes, and she remembered some things, especially the part where Sam broke into the house and tased a guy.
If anyone should be annoyed, it should be me. She thought with irritation as she crossed her arms. Deciding to ignore Sam's apparent bad mood, Tara turned her gaze back to Quinn, who still had a look of amusement on her face, as if she knew something Tara didn't.
"It was great! Until someone ruined my fun." Tara replied with sarcasm in her voice, making a point to increase the volume of her speech so that Sam could hear it well.
Perhaps it was a bit unfair to be so rude to someone who only wanted to protect her, but Tara was fed up with feeling like she was in a prison while attending college in a city of endless possibilities. The girl didn't want to be stuck dwelling on the past, and what better way to keep her mind occupied than drinking and dancing with strangers until 5 in the morning?
Besides, she wasn't alone. She knew that y/n would never let anything bad happen to her. Tara was safe.
"Oh, I think you had more than enough fun." The older Carpenter finally turned around, carrying a plate of omelets and a judgmental tone. She placed the plate on the table in front of Tara, and the girl felt some of her anger dissolve with her sister's gesture. "You don't remember anything that happened?"
From the corner of her eye, the younger girl could see Quinn looking back and forth between the two sisters as if witnessing a tennis match. Tara sighed and finally sat at the table, picking up a fork to start her breakfast. "I remember you ruining the vibe by attacking some random guy."
"There's even a video!" Quinn added with a laugh, placing her phone on the glass surface of the table and showing the screen to the two girls. The video was an endless loop of the exact moment when Sam used the taser on the guy's groin, and he fell flat on the ground. The redhead lifted her head, expecting to see smiles on the faces of the two sisters like hers, but upon seeing Sam's stern expression, she quickly added, "But he deserved it, Tara. He was a jerk."
"No, no." The older Carpenter shook her head negatively, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter behind her, her face displaying a mix of irritation and sarcasm. "Apparently, Tara's idea of fun is to be harassed by a disgusting man. I'm so sorry for ruining your incredible plans to become a victim of some idiot."
The younger one huffed with irritation and aggressively stabbed a piece of the omelet with her fork. Deep down, she was grateful for what Sam had done, even though it might become gossip of the week at her college. But Tara was too proud to admit it. So, instead of thanking her sister, she rolled her eyes and started chewing on her breakfast. "Nothing serious was going to happen, okay? Y/n was there; you know she would never let me do something like that."
The already awkward atmosphere in the room seemed to chill even more. Sam straightened her back further, and her jaw clenched as she stared at her own feet. Quinn, notoriously known for not taking anything seriously, raised her eyebrows and looked at Tara like a deer caught in headlights. Something was definitely wrong.
"What?" The girl asked, trying to swallow the food in her mouth, pretending that her anxiety didn't weigh on her throat like a bowling ball.
"Tara, you were awful to y/n yesterday. Seriously, she left the party crying because you said some outrageous things." Sam sighed and ran her hand over her forehead as if she were exhausted. Her tone wasn't angry, but it was worse because it was the calm voice of someone so disappointed that they had given up. "Why do you do this? You know she loves you, so why do you hurt her like this?"
Tara's stomach twisted into a knot upon hearing what she had put you through last night. It was true that she wasn't the best friend, but she would never wish harm on you, especially if she were the one at fault.
"Are you sure about that? Are you sure you don't enjoy breaking her heart into pieces every time, and she brings you the shards, hoping you'll glue them back together?"
"Shut up." Tara silenced her intrusive thoughts and looked at Sam as if nothing were wrong with her. "We're friends. We argue sometimes, but it's normal. I'll talk to her today, and everything will be fine."
That statement sounded more like wishful thinking from Tara than anything else.
"I don't know, maybe you should call her to make sure," Quinn spoke again, this time looking at Tara with a kind of amusement. "Who knows, maybe she's tired of being your plaything?"
"Oh, because you know all about turning people into your playthings, don't you?" The younger Carpenter retorted angrily, grabbing her phone with a sudden need to prove the redhead wrong. She searched for your contact number and pressed the call button, muttering a curse at her roommate. "Fuck you, Quinn."
The call rang twice. The other two girls stared at Tara with curiosity as she held the phone close to her ear, silently pleading for you to answer soon so she could wipe that smug smile off Quinn's face.
"The number you called is currently unavailable."
Huh?
The girl looked at the screen with confusion on her face. That had never happened before. You always answered her calls, even the ones made at 4 in the morning. Could it be a signal problem?
She went to her text messages and started typing a message. It wouldn't be as instant as a call, but at least you would respond when you read it. Tara typed a simple message (are you up?) and pressed send, but...
The text was green. Why was it green?
"Oh... Maybe she blocked you, roomie." Quinn's voice made Tara jump a little. The girl was so stunned that she didn't even realize she had spoken aloud. She looked between Sam and Quinn, one with evident disappointment and the other with mild surprise.
"No! No, this..." Tara vehemently shook her head, gripping the edge of the table as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded. "...This has to be a mistake!"
"Tara, I told you that you went too far-"
"NO! Okay, just... just no!" The girl interrupted Sam with a shout. Her breathing was erratic, and she suddenly felt dizzy. You always promised her that you would be here, always came back, no matter what happened. "I'll call Mindy, okay? They must be together, and y/n will explain that her phone broke or something. Everything's still fine."
With trembling hands, Tara searched for Mindy's name in the contacts list and pressed call as soon as she found it. Her feet were tapping on the floor at a frenetic pace, and she had to restrain her own hands to avoid biting her nails and showing even more of her anxiety in front of Sam and Quinn.
Tara knew that sometimes she pushed you too far, but she only did it because it was necessary, right? She wasn't like her intrusive thoughts suggested, she didn't truly wish you harm, right? She couldn't have hurt you that much, she just... couldn't.
"Tara, why the fuck are you calling?" Mindy questioned as soon as the call was answered, not waiting for any greeting beforehand. Her voice overflowed with impatience, which wasn't uncommon for her personality, but Tara felt surprised by how hostile the tone sounded.
"Shh. Speak quieter; Y/n just went to sleep." A whisper belonging to Anika was heard not far from the microphone. Mindy apologized, lowering the volume of her voice, but Tara had already heard enough to feel her heart racing.
"What do you mean, she just went to sleep? It's 9 am!" She spoke with concern, standing up from the chair she was sitting in, letting her restless feet carry her back and forth. "Is she sick? Does she need me to bring some medicine?"
On the other side of the table, Sam frowned in concern at what she was hearing. "Y/n is sick? Does she need anything?"
Tara gestured for her sister to wait with her free hand as she tried to calm herself. She could barely remember the last time you were sick, but she vividly remembered going to your house and seeing you lying in bed, looking like you’d been hit by a truck, loopy with fever. She was so young at the time that she had been terrified, thinking that her curse would finally catch up with you, and she would lose you to some stupid illness.
She remembered helping your mom make soup and feeling like the happiest girl in the world when she saw you eating it with great effort despite your sore throat, just because she had made it.
The curse didn't catch up with you, and Tara felt useful for the first time in her life.
"She's not sick; she just took a while to sleep because she was too busy crying her eyes out yesterday." Mindy retorted venomously. "What the hell is your problem, Tara? You destroyed her!"
"I-I didn't mean to... It wasn’t my intention to..."
"Wasn’t your intention?" Mindy interrupted the girl's stammer with an aggressive whisper. "You've been an asshole to her for years, and you still want to tell me you had no intention?!"
"I'm sorry, okay? I don't know why..." Tara let the words come out of her mouth with effort, trying not to let the tears that threatened to fall escape. "I don't know why I'm like this; I just... Tell her I'm sorry."
Mindy scoffed mockingly. "Tell her yourself. And preferably, wait a week to do it because I don't think Y/n wants to see you anytime soon."
When the call ended, Tara could swear she heard her own heart crack. She looked at her hands, one still holding the phone, not knowing what to feel or what to do in the moment. Maybe in a few moments, everything would hit her like a tsunami. Anger, shame, panic, sadness, all directed at herself. But at that moment, she just felt nothing, as if a void had opened in her chest and gradually expanded, consuming her entire being.
Sam asked if you were sick again. Quinn wanted to know how you were feeling. Tara didn't answer any of the questions and ran as fast as she could to lock herself in her room.
_
It had been a week since Tara last saw you.
Your absence hit her like a train, but the girl was doing her best to respect your space since all this situation was her fault anyway. It was so strange not having you by her side, even as a silent presence, that she felt like an incomplete puzzle.
At least she knew you were okay, and that was enough to calm some of her nerves. Of course, psychologically, you weren't in the best place, but Mindy had assured Tara (after much insistence from the girl) that you were eating, sleeping well, and attending classes just like always, which made the younger Carpenter feel relieved for not ruining even more of your life.
The group of friends seemed to be under the custody of divorced parents. One day, Tara would meet Mindy and Anika for lunch, and they would talk civilly, even though the disapproval of the twin about her actions was evident. The next day, she would have lunch with Chad and Ethan, who tried to lighten the mood with silly jokes and sought Tara's opinion on "guy stuff."
She knew this rotation scheme was also happening with you, and Tara couldn't help but wonder how you were dealing with it. Did you talk about her when she wasn't around? Or maybe you were trying to erase any trace of Tara from your own mind?
Either way, in your absence, Tara had plenty of time to sink into her own pit of guilt, which gave her time to analyze her own actions. She didn't know how things had escalated to this point, but she knew exactly how they had started.
_
You were both 13, nearing the end of summer, and about to embark on the frightening world of high school. Tara remembers every detail of that day perfectly because it might have been the best day of her life. She recalls the two of you lying on her bed, the bedroom door closed to keep the cool air from the air conditioner from escaping into the hallway. Her mom wasn't home, as usual, but Tara couldn't remember the excuse this time.
Tara remembers seeing you laugh at some scene from Child's Play playing on TV while finishing your watermelon popsicle. She noticed that the sweet treat seemed to make your lips redder and more hydrated, and a question about their taste seemed to pound in her brain like a drum. She shook her head to shake that off, feeling her own face warm.
"What nonsense! Can't you just, like, kick that doll hard?" You were lying face down, but turned your head to flash a smile at Tara. She could barely comprehend your words, finding it more interesting to notice how your legs were stretched upward in the most adorable position and how your eyes seemed to sparkle with amusement. You were clearly happy, and Tara was happy about that.
"It's the power of the script! I don't think you can defeat a possessed doll with just a kick." Tara answered your question, shrugging and looking at her own hands, where the remnants of a strawberry popsicle were. Anything to avoid looking at you and feeling whatever was happening in her chest.
A moment of silence settled for a few seconds, and Tara thought you had returned to watching the movie until she heard your voice again. "Was it good?"
She raised her head in confusion and looked at you with a frown, which was met with a thoughtful look from your side. "What do you mean?"
"The popsicle. I wanted to taste it, but I know strawberry is your favorite, and there was only one." You pouted, and, God, how Tara felt something inside her sway. Her gaze fixated on your lips for a few seconds, and all her thoughts turned into mush.
"You can taste it on my lips if you want."
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
The girl closed her eyes and grimaced, regretting the words as soon as they left her mouth. Damn her intrusive thoughts. "I-I was joking, sorry." She spoke next, trying not to make the situation even more awkward.
Still with her eyes closed, she felt the warm touch of your hand on her arm, and one side of the bed sank a bit closer than before. "No! It's fine. You know, it's not such a bad idea..."
"What?" Tara widened her eyes, unable to believe that she had actually heard that come out of your throat. She could see you clearly now, sitting cross-legged with both your thighs almost touching.
"I mean... All our friends have kissed someone." You started to argue, gesturing with your hands as you always did. "Chad has already kissed someone, Mindy even kissed a girl! I don't want to go to high school and be teased for being a bad kisser! At least this way, we both would have some experience!"
Tara felt her own head short-circuit. She couldn't even interpret what she was feeling with your suggestion, with sweaty palms, a rapidly beating heart, and a dry throat. Maybe she was just too scared by the idea of kissing someone.
Yeah. That makes sense.
"But we're friends. Wouldn't that be weird?"
"Of course not!" You countered with the energy of someone who clearly had thought about the answer to that question before. "It's even better! If we're bad, we can just tell each other and practice until we get it right!"
The young Carpenter's head was spinning just by thinking about kissing you not only once but multiple times. She couldn't stop staring at your lips, the question about their taste now seeming more urgent and necessary, like some kind of thirst.
Without trusting her own voice, let alone her self-control, Tara just nodded and hoped you understood the signal to take the initiative and get even closer.
Your mouth still carried the scent of the damn watermelon popsicle, but the fragrance of your subtle perfume also mixed and invaded Tara's senses with the force of a wave. She kept her hands close to her body, not knowing what to do with them as your faces got so close that your breaths collided.
When your lips finally met in the sweetest and gentlest kiss possible, Tara saw an explosion of colors behind her closed eyes, like fireworks. In fact, her whole body seemed to catch fire, and her chest could barely contain her heart. That was the first time Tara felt so... alive.
She understood everything now. She loved you. Fuck, she loved you.
Fuck. She loved you.
Tara immediately felt panic churn in her stomach, but she acted as if nothing had happened, just like you did. Inside, however, all her senses were on high alert for an imminent catastrophe.
She loved you, really loved you, and Tara knew you well enough to know after that kiss that you felt the same way about her. That was the problem. Tara wasn't made to be loved; she didn't deserve it.
You see, Tara felt like a myth she studied in one of her history classes, the myth of Calypso. A nymph who had been trapped on an island by the gods, and her eternal punishment was falling in love with people who could never be with her, causing a cycle of broken hearts and unrequited love for millennia.
Every time Tara loved too much and was reciprocated, the universe took someone away from her. It had happened with her father, with Sam, and more recently with her mother. She couldn't let it happen again; she couldn't lose you.
It was then, in desperation, that she stopped talking to you for a week, trying to make the feelings of at least one of you decrease until they completely vanished. But the days passed, and nothing changed. Tara still felt intense and conflicting emotions for you, and from the messages you sent, everything pointed to you feeling the same.
Avoiding you forever wouldn't work, and Tara missed you too much to simply cut you out of her life completely to avoid future suffering. She decided, then, that the best way to resolve this mess would be to get closer to other people, trying to force what she felt for you onto someone else.
She could lose anyone else, but not you.
A few weeks later, high school finally began, and she met Amber. The timing couldn't have been more perfect.
Tara Carpenter might have many flaws, but one thing she had always been good at was reading people and their intentions. The moment she met Amber, Tara could identify that the girl was exactly what she needed: interesting, attractive, but fundamentally distant.
She knew it hurt you. The distancing, the increasingly scarce conversations, her sudden interest in someone else even after you had shared the best kiss of your lives. Tara didn't want to hurt you, not really, but it was necessary if it meant she could keep you in her life.
And Amber... Amber was perfect for the role. Tara always knew that the girl would never love her more than she loved herself, knew that she was the type to disappear for a few days without explanation, but always came back with a sly smile and lame excuses. Tara loved her because she would never love her enough to leave, she could love without fear, even if the feeling wasn't reciprocated with the same strength.
At the end of the day, what mattered was that the relationship made Tara suppress what she felt for you, so nothing bad would happen to your friendship, right?
You loved her. She loved Amber. No more Calypso's curse.
_
After replaying all these memories in her mind, Tara felt a desperate urge to laugh. Wasn't it at least a little funny that she had concocted this entire plan and included a psychopathic killer in her group of friends (which consumed her every day as she blamed herself for last year's attacks) only to end up losing you anyway in the end?
She shouldn't be laughing, but Tara didn't know if she had the capacity to control what she felt anymore.
It was expected that the halls of Blackmore University would be empty during that afternoon period. Normally, other students were attending elective classes, participating in clubs, or training in some sport to enrich their academic resumes. Tara, contrary to that, roamed the halls like a lost soul without direction, as if walking aimlessly would solve any of her problems.
But maybe this walk had indeed been a good idea, as she managed to see the exact moment when you came out of the campus counselor's office. She sighed when she saw you, looking carefree and definitely less miserable than she was. You even smiled, and even though the smile wasn't for her, just that sight made her heart beat excitedly and a sense of peace ran through her body.
At least, that was until the girl who was receiving your smile appeared in Tara's view.
She was... something. She had a confident posture that made her seem even taller than she was and a carefree expression on her face that was almost charming. The girl seemed well-off, dressed in clothes that seemed to be designer and a sports duffel bag hanging from her shoulders. She was... pretty, maybe? Tara didn't know why, but she was reluctant to give any compliments to that stranger.
Maybe because Tara didn't know her, but you spoke to her with the ease of someone who had known her for a lifetime. You were laughing together and maintaining eye contact in a way that, for some reason, bothered Tara. So, she let her impulsiveness take over and marched toward you without the slightest plan.
"Y/n? Hi!" She announced her presence, and something in her chest hurt when she noted the change from your previously happy expression to a closed one. "I haven't seen you in a while! I thought it was because you were sad and needed some time, but you're clearly better than I am!"
She didn't know why she had said those words in such a passive-aggressive tone. Tara knew she was in the wrong, but still, watching your interaction with this stranger made her blood boil. However, she felt shame for her own reaction when you looked at her with a disappointed expression.
“Seriously, Tara? Is that all you have to say?” You spoke, crossing your arms as if you needed protection. Tara couldn't help but notice how the icy tone in your voice was new and cut through her like a razor.
The blue-eyed girl next to you seemed to straighten even more, positioning herself a little closer to you as some sort of bodyguard. Ridiculous, if you asked Tara. "Is there a problem here?"
"And who are you?" The younger Carpenter asked, trying to control her own voice not to make you even more annoyed. The new girl didn't seem to care about the hostile atmosphere and flashed a confident smile, looking down at Tara in a way that she didn't know if it was intentional or not.
"I'm Kate. Kate Bishop. Maybe you've never seen me if you're the same age as y/n here." Kate made a point to touch your shoulder when mentioning you, and Tara felt like a tsunami of hatred was forming in her stomach. "I'm a junior, so we probably don't have the same classes."
"Speaking of classes..." The taller girl turned completely to you, as if Tara wasn't even present. "I have to go now, but I'll see you later, y/n?"
Tara watched begrudgingly as your face formed a small smile when addressing Kate. "Sure. See you later, Bishop."
You exchanged a hug that, again, in Tara's opinion, was a bit longer than it should have been. She watched as the so-called Kate Bishop walked away down the corridor, adjusting the sports bag on her shoulder and striding like a damn show-off model.
"If she's a junior and you're a freshman, how did you two meet?" Tara inquired, feeling protective of you. After all that had happened in the past, she thought she had a bit of a right to doubt people's intentions. That was the only reason she was so intrigued by your new companion, obviously.
You sighed tiredly, as if you already expected that kind of behavior from her. "We met in the counseling center line." You pointed to the counseling center door a few meters to your left. "I'm going to therapy sessions, you know? Not that you'll care."
Tara felt an immense guilt instantly. She could now see the dark bags under your eyes and a clear loss of the bright energy you normally carried with you. The girl wanted to cry and plead for forgiveness, but she knew that would only make you feel worse.
Maybe Tara, overall, would only make you feel worse.
"I'm sorry, okay? I know I said horrible things, and-"
"Apologies won't work now, Tara." You admitted, turning your gaze away. "It's not just about what you said; it's about how you've been acting for a long time. I shouldn't have to put up with this kind of thing."
"You're right, I know. I feel-"
"What? You feel sorry?" Tara was startled to hear your tone becoming more pained as you interrupted her. She had never heard anything like that come out of your mouth before, and she almost wished you were shouting in her face instead. "Tara, you can’t even give me an explanation for why you do this kind of thing to me? Do you find it amusing to make a fool out of me? Is it fun to hurt me and see me coming back to you like a fucking boomerang?"
"No! I just... I don't know why I do this." The shorter one confessed with a trembling voice. "I swear to you that I... You are one of the best people in my life, okay? And I know I don't do enough to deserve you, but I... I need you. I'll do anything, just... could you forgive me?"
She wasn't lying when she said she didn't know the reason for continuing to hurt you this way. She didn't know why it had been so easy to listen when Amber suggested that you might be Ghostface. God, she didn't even know why she kept bringing up Amber, even though she preferred to forget about everything Amber caused.
Perhaps Tara just felt the need to make you feel the same pain she felt inside, so that you would be intertwined even unconsciously.
"I don't know if I can, not now. I have to put myself first at least once in my life, Tara. I'm really sorry." Your eyes were still avoiding Carpenter's, avoiding her gaze like a plague. "But if what you say is true, and you don't know why you do this... Tara, you need help. Professional help. I can't be your therapist, let alone your punching bag."
The girl nodded slightly and bit her lower lip to keep from crying in front of you. With a remaining bit of willpower and a little courage, she lightly touched your hand, silently pleading for your attention. "If I do this... seek help, i mean. Will you forgive me? Please, I don't want to lose you because I'm an idiot."
You looked back at her, and Tara could almost see conflicting feelings swimming in your irises. Finally, something seemed to snap you out of a trance, and you gently squeezed Carpenter's hand, a small gesture of support. "I don't know, Tara. I hope so, but that's not up to me, you know."
When you took a step back, and your hands parted, Tara almost let out a sob from her throat, instantly missing the touch. You hesitated, as if you wanted to say something, but chose to shake your head and quickly wipe away a lone tear rolling down your cheek. "I hope you get better, Tara."
The girl watched helplessly as you walked away, clutching your own bag as if it would keep you grounded in reality. She hated herself for making you feel this way, hated herself for being a problem for everyone she loved.
Maybe there was never a curse on Tara. Maybe she was simply the curse in other people's lives.
She glanced at the door to her left and sighed resignedly. As immense as her pride was, and as much as she had avoided this moment until now, she had promised you that she would change, and she couldn't break another promise. She swallowed hard and let her legs guide her to the frosted glass door.
Tara read and reread the words on the door. Counseling Center. And with one final sigh, she entered.
#scream#scream vi#tara carpenter x reader#jenna ortega#jenna ortega imagine#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x you#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter#tara carpenter imagine#scream 2022#scream x reader#scream imagine
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Core Four, up top!
SCREAM VI (2023)
dir. Matt Bettinelli-Olpin & Tyler Gillett
#scream vi#screamedit#scream spoilers#filmedit#filmgifs#moviegifs#dailyflicks#userrachel#userjacko#userlanie#tuserrobin#usermorgan#tara carpenter#sam carpenter#mindy meeks-martin#chad meeks-martin#core four#*#THEY!!! THEMMMMMM THEMMM 🫂🫂
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N*oah schnapp can be posted with stickers saying “Zionism is sexy” and his career is unaffected but Melissa Barrera speaks against genocide and is fired. Fuck Hollywood. Fuck n*ah schnapp. FREE PALESTINE
#scream#scream vi#scream 6#tara carpenter#jenna ortega#sam carpenter#scream v#tara#melissa barrera#carpenter sisters#stranger things#freepalestine#free palestine#boycott scream 7#boycottscream7
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jenna ortega and melissa barrera on set of scream vi.
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JENNA ORTEGA
Tara Carpenter | Scream VI (2023)
#jenna ortega#tara carpenter#scream vi#screamedit#screamviedit#usermorgan#tuserdee#userbru#madebyjen#userbabysitter#tvfilmsource#tvfilmcentral#dailywomansource#userriel#horroredit#nessa007#dailyhorrorfilms#horrorwomensource
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