fanfics-and-love

[fanfics-and-love]

We Get Along Like Snow in New York

Sam Carpenter x reader

Not my gif

Warning(s): canon typical violence, mentions of death, mentions of blood, mostly fluff surprisingly

Word count: 4k words

Request: Sam and reader have gotten extremely close since moving to NYC and living in the same apartment, but when news of Ghostface attacks happening in New York. Sam pushes Reader away, thinking if she pushes her away, she'll be safe and alive. But, when reader is at Gale's apartment, (Dewey was her uncle) She's attacked by Ghostface instead of Gale, Sam and Tara show up to see reader bleeding out in Gale's arms. (She doesn't die) ask

A/N: I changed Dewey being Y/N’s uncle to father basically because it adds more drama to the story

masterlist

You had been living in New York with your mother ever since your parents’ divorce, having left behind the small town you had grown up in, and were ready to forget all about your father’s untimely death at the hands of a psychopath.

That was how you met Tara Carpenter, or more accurately, how you reunited with her.

Before your parents started arguing over the smallest thing, before your father quit his job, before you left town one day crying, you had been friends with Tara. You liked her because, unlike the rest of your classmates, she didn’t stare at you because you were Dewey and Gale’s daughter. She simply liked spending time with you, and you with her, which blossomed into a fast friendship that was sure enough cut short.

You were the best of friends, always hanging out. Sometimes, when your father came to pick you up from school, he would let you and Tara sit in the back of his police car and turn on the sirens, pretending you were dangerous criminals. You would cling onto Tara, giggling as your father joked around; you cherished those moments more than anything now that Dewey was simply a memory— a tombstone you couldn’t look at without crying.

That was exactly the reason why you reached out to Tara when your mother told you she had moved in with her sister, just like her wanting to leave behind that nightmare. She had happily agreed to meet with you, and you soon found yourself at a bar, drinking and talking, catching up with everything. She had pointedly left behind all that happened in Woodsboro, and you silently agreed, not wanting to remember your father, dead on the ground thanks to her friend. You had spent hours like that, phones on the table face-down so no one could interrupt you, and that was how you met Sam.

Sam was a blurry image to you. You could remember Tara mentioning her probably a little too much when you were young, always talking about how great her sister was at a certain sport, or how she had helped her defeat that big mean guy on a videogame because she couldn’t do it. You had never met her, however, because you barely went over to Tara’s, your mother prefering to keep a watchful eye on you just in case. You didn’t get much of a chance, however, because she left one day and suddenly all the loud praise was occupied by awkward silence.

Needless to say, you weren’t sure what to think of Sam, but she made up your mind for you pretty easily. She walked into the bar like she owned it, a tall figure clad in just a jacket that almost ran towards your table when her brown eyes landed on Tara.

“Sam?” Tara asked, leaving her glass of coke on the table to get up. “Did something happen?”

“Who are you?” Sam asked, not even looking at Tara to give her answer. You felt small under her intense stare.

“She’s Y/N,” Tara said, harsher than you expected. “An old friend.” Sam gave you another look, as if her eyes were enough to determine if you were a danger to her sister. You stayed still, as if you were being approached by a lion.

“We’re leaving,” Sam said. Tara gave you an apologetic look, and you simply nodded, watching as she got up and followed her sister. Outside, you saw them arguing, their screams almost sneaking in through the thick walls of the bars. You asked for the tab, thankful that your mother was rich.

What a bitch, you thought, shaking your head as you left the place, walking back towards your mother’s apartment.

A few hours later, Tara texted you to apologize, and once you replied she sent you her address, asking you to come over.

Having nothing better to do, you accepted.

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

“I’m so sorry,” Tara said, as soon as she closed the door. You took off your jacket, looking around before you sat down on the sofa Tara had pointed at.

“It’s okay,” you said, accepting the glass of water she handed you.

“God, I can’t stand her,” she said, throwing herself onto the sofa beside you. “She’s been like that ever since—” she gave you a small look before shaking her head. “You know. She’s so overbearing.”

“I get it,” you said, resting the glass on the coffee table. “I mean, you should’ve seen my mom when I was young. She barely let me go out when we moved here.”

Something like recognition crossed her eyes. “Right,” she said, sitting up. “Your mom’s Gale.”

“Yep,” you nodded, intertwining your hands together. “You guys killed the new ghostface together.” Something dark crossed over Tara’s face at the name, and you knew you had said the wrong thing.

“Yeah,” Tara said, voice sounding distant even though she was beside you. “Yeah, we did.”

“You know what?” You said, trying to cheer her up. “Forget about that. Tell me what’s your favorite artist.” Tara smiled, nodding as she turned to look at you. She opened her mouth at the same time the front door was opened.

“Oh.”

You turned to look at the woman, awkwardly standing by the door. For the looks of it, she was about to bolt from the apartment.

“You,” Tara said accusingly, rising from the sofa. She poked her sister in the chest with her index finger, and it was your time to wish you could leave this place. You couldn’t deal with family drama; you had had enough of it in your childhood.

“Me,” Sam said, allowing Tara to push her further into the apartment and close the door, leaving her no chance but to take the reprimand.

“Yes, you,” Tara said. You opened your eyes in surprise when she pointed at you. “You are going to apologize immediately to my friend for embarrassing her.”

“You’re the one embarrassing her now—”

“Samantha,” Tara said. It was funny to see the tall woman being bossed around by her sister, who was almost a head shorter. “You apologize right now.”

Sam looked into her sister’s eyes, and nodded. She turned to look at you, and you swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said, offhandedly. “Don’t worry. I get it. My mom is even worse with people she doesn’t know.”

Sam nodded, and made a noise of complaint when Tara slapped her arm. “Her mom’s Gale.”

She opened her eyes, understanding crossing her face. “Shit,” she said, looking defeated. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” you repeated. “Really. My mom doesn’t mention me too much to strangers just in case. You couldn’t have known.”

“I’m going to my room,” Tara said. You gave her an indignant look. “Sam, apologize.”

“I already apologized!” Sam called. Tara didn’t look her way, instead turning and leaving, presumably towards her bedroom.

“Well, do it again!” She screamed as she slammed the door shut.

“As cheerful as I remember her,” you said, not sure how to fill the awkward silence.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Tara,” you clarified. “She used to be like that when she was young too. Good to know some things never change.”

“You— oh,” Sam said. You smiled at the look of recognition.

“Y/N Riley-Weathers,” you said, getting up. “I know, it’s a mouthful. My mom insisted I should have both last names.”

Sam smiled, nodding. “Right,” she said. “You mom is— interesting.”

“She’s a bit of a bitch,” you said. “Don’t get me wrong, I love her, but when it comes to her job… I’m surprised she hasn’t interviewed you for her new book yet.”

“She’s writing another book?” Sam asked, sitting down on one of the chairs of the dining table.

“She’s always writing another book,” you said, reaching towards your jacket, which Tara had left on the table. “Well, apology accepted. I’ll leave now.”

“Wait,” Sam called, getting up. “I really don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me.”

“Well, you sure have made quite the impression,” you said.

“I know,” Sam said. “It’s just… Tara wasn’t answering the phone, for hours, and I saw an ambulance on my way out from work and I just… I thought she was gone.”

You smiled softly, understanding washing over you. The image of Dewey crossed your mind, always watching over you, keeping you safe no matter what. You had hated it back then, but now he wasn’t here anymore, you missed him and his protective nature more than anything. “I get it,” you said. “Really. But you should approach it differently. Tara is kinda headstrong on being her own person.”

“I know,” Sam said, sighing. “I just can’t help it.”

“It’s something you have to work on,” you said. “You ought to be a little bit messed up after what happened.”

“You saw the news, then?”

“Please. I live with the news,” you chuckled. “And if I’m not home in half an hour she’s going to call the police and have them patrol every corner of New York until they find me.”

“You should leave, then,” Sam said as she got up, running a hand through her face. She looked stressed, and tired. You felt sorry she had to go through all that just because of who her father was. “I— I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“I get it,” you said, putting on your jacket. “You’ve been through a lot. You just want to protect your sister.”

Sam looked at you, thankful that even though Tara seemed so focused on not understanding her, at least someone else did. “It’s still not an excuse.”

“No, it’s not,” you agreed, walking to stand in front of her. “How about this?” You moved closer to her, grabbing her jacket to stop her from pulling away. Her eyes were open in surprise at your boldness. “You take me out one day to compensate for your vile actions.”

Sam’s lips revealed a playful smirk as her hands grabbed your waist. The touch was soft, almost unsure since she didn’t know how much you would allow her. “I guess it’s my penitence.”

You hummed, eyes momentarily on her lips before looking up again at her eyes. “Pick me up tomorrow, six o’clock.”

Sam nodded, her hands dropping as soon as you moved away. “Wait!” She called when you began to open the front door. You turned around, giving her a questioning look. “I don’t have your number.”

You smiled, walking towards her. Sam pulled her phone out of her pocket, but you simply kissed her cheek and pulled away. “Ask your sister.”

You left her there, eyes on you as you disappeared through the door. 

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

Shortly after that, you two began dating. Tara was a little taken aback at first, the thought of her childhood friend and her sister together disgusting her to the point she made a face whenever she saw the two of you kissing. Thankfully, she got over it quickly, her discomfort shortly turning into excitement. Her sister was happy with someone she approved of, and given that you two were dating, all of Sam’s overprotective tendencies had changed direction and were now aimed at you.

It was perfect, until it wasn’t.

You were staying over, having decided to sleep in Sam’s bedroom after she asked you to; something about it being too late and some news she had read about cabs in New York not being trustworthy (you had rolled your eyes at that because, really, what was trustworthy in New York?) You had barely needed convincing, the thought of her warm bed and her arms, firmly and protectively wrapped around you enough to convince you.

You woke up alone in bed, and went over to check your phone. 06:32. Sam would probably be getting ready for work, judging by the sound of running water coming from the bathroom, so you decided to get up and make breakfast for her and Tara, who would be leaving for college.

You had taken a year off after your father’s funeral, knowing that studying wasn’t exactly what you needed, especially because you were aware you wouldn’t be able to focus on anything. You needed to heal, and thankfully your mother was okay with your decision.

You made toast with eggs and bacon for Sam, and got out a bowl and cereal for when Tara woke up, since she had declared one day she was vegan and didn’t want to “eat murder anymore”, whatever that meant. You got it all ready and smiled when you heard Sam open the bathroom door, going to the kitchen when she smelled the food.

“God, you’re amazing,” Sam said, hugging you from behind. You turned off the stove, moving the food onto a plate. She smelled amazing, the shampoo she used fresh and still clinging to her skin. Though she had dried her hair, it was still a little wet where it connected with your neck, making you giggle.

“I know, right?” You said, leaning into her. You loved how warm she always was, in comparison to your cold skin. “I’m the best girlfriend ever.”

“Indeed,” Sam said against your head, biting your earlobe before kissing your neck. “The bestest of them all.” You giggled again, her breath tickling your skin pleasantly.

“God, it’s not even seven in the morning.”

Sam and you turned around to see Tara, standing in the kitchen with an angry look on her face. She was not a morning person.

“My apologies, Tara dear,” you said, pushing Sam into a chair and putting the plate in front of her. You handed her the cutlery with a kiss on the forehead, smirking when Tara groaned. “You want something with your cereal?”

“I want you to stop making out with my sister everywhere.”

“Hard pass,” you said, moving Sam’s hair to help it get dry faster. “Your sister is obsessed with me.”

“Ugh,” Tara said, pouring in the cereal before drowning it with soy milk. “I should’ve never introduced you two.”

“Our souls would’ve found a way back to each other without your intervention,” you said, resting your chin on top of Sam’s head. The girl smiled, abandoning her knife in favor of holding your hand.

“Gross.”

“You are gross,” Sam said.

“Look who’s talking,” Tara said, giving her sister a mocking look of disgust. “I know what you two get up to in that room of yours.”

“Jesus, Tara,” you said, pulling away to walk towards the living room. “Eat your breakfast and stop talking, will you?”

“Ah, so you don’t deny it.”

“Idiot,” you whispered. You sat down on the sofa, searching for the remote controller. Once you did, you turned the TV on, and sighed when you saw your mother on the screen. “She really doesn’t know what it means to take a break.”

You turned on the volume when you saw she was standing in front of an alley, police tape behind her. Your heart sunk into your stomach when you saw the headline.

“Ghostface is back.”

“Sam,” you called, urgently. You went to check your phone as Sam got up, probably alarmed by the tone of your voice. You finally saw all the notifications from your mother, calling you and asking where you were.

“Honey?” She asked, looking at you with concern. She lowered herself in front of you, eyes examining you to know what was wrong. You pointed at the TV, and once she read the headline she tensed, the hand on your thigh gripping you hard. “No,” she said, breathlessly.

“What is it?” Tara asked, picking up on the mood shift. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the TV, still going over the news.

“I—” Sam said. She looked out of it, face stoic as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. “I have to go to work.”

“College,” said Tara in the same tone. You watched with concern as the two moved around the house, almost on autopilot, gathering their things and getting ready to leave.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” You said to Sam when you saw her in her work clothes. She nodded, eyes not fully looking at you as she opened the front door Tara had just left through. She shook her head as if to get rid of a haze, and gave you a long kiss.

“I love you,” she said against your lips.

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

But you didn’t see her later, or the next day. When you went over to the apartment, Quinn told you they had gone over to meet with Chad and Mindy, so you went back over to your mother’s house.

She was pushing you away. You knew it, and you hated it. You hated how she was letting this new ghostface get in between you, but you mostly hated how she felt like being with you would put you in danger.

You almost laughed out loud at the thought, there in the middle of the street. As if. Your mother was Gale Weathers, your father Dewey Riley— this shit had been following you way before you met her. But of course, it was Sam. Sweet, caring Sam, who constantly put others first, who always did anything to protect those she loved, even if it meant putting her own life on the line.

Once you were inside the apartment, you sat down in your bed, looking at all the unanswered messages you had sent her the past few days.

Samantha, you wrote, and then deleted. It felt too formal. You typed in a final message before locking your phone, throwing yourself onto the bed.

You weren’t sure when you had fallen asleep, but you were awakened by the sound of the phone line ringing. You groaned, rubbing your eyes as you got up, cursing your mother for still owning one of those. It wasn’t the 90s anymore.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Y/N,” the sound of that voice made your skin run cold. “Wanna play a game?”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m inside your house,” they said in a singsong voice. “Wanna play hot and cold?”

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

When Sam saw she had gotten a call from Gale, she knew something was wrong.

She had known early that morning when she woke up, something in the pit of her stomach telling her to go to you, to hold you and never let you go. But she couldn’t, not until she figured out who was behind those new attacks. She wouldn’t risk you— she wouldn’t lead that killer right to your doorstep and have you killed because of her. No, she would rather die than put you in that type of danger.

“It’s Y/N,” Gale said urgently, when she answered the phone. “I— I called an ambulance. They’re on their way, but— god.”

Sam had started running towards your apartment the moment your name fell out of your mother’s lips. She pushed people out of the way, barely noticing she was gasping for air, or that Gale was still talking.

“—so much blood,” she said. Sam ran into the gateway, pressing onto the elevator bottom a few times before cursing, deciding to take the stairs instead.

“Is she breathing?” Sam asked. One more floor, one more and she’d be there with you.

“I—” Gale was gasping for air. “I don’t know.”

Sam pushed the door open, thankful it had been left ajar. She didn’t see the blood on the floor, or your mother crying beside you— all she could see was your body, bloody and deadly still.

“Y/N,” she called in a whisper. Gale jumped at the sound of Sam’s phone falling to the ground, knife in hand ready to kill anyone who had dared hurt her daughter. She lowered it at the same time Sam lowered herself on the floor, hands shaking as she grabbed you and held you in her arms. Her fingers clumsily set on your neck, trying to find a pulse like a thirsty man searches for water in the desert. She gasped in relief when she felt it. Slow, a little too slow, but it didn’t matter; your heart was still beating.

“I can’t lose her,” Gale sobbed. “I already lost Dewey, I can’t… not her,” she looked at Sam with pleading eyes; she had never seen your mother so paralyzed with fear. It was an eerie sight.

“You won’t,” Sam said, voice firm. She took off her outer shirt, using it to press onto your biggest wound, which was located on the stomach. “She’s not dying. She’s not.”

Determination washed over, taking with it the leftovers of panic and distress. There would be time for lament and regret later, once you were safely in a hospital bed.

“God,” Gale said when Sam began to raise you. Blood splashed over the carpet, and she almost threw up at the sight.

“You called an ambulance?” Sam asked. She was holding you in her lap, your head falling limply into her shoulder.

“Yes.”

“I’m taking her downstairs,” Sam said. The pressure she was applying on the wound was helping, because it had stopped most of the bleeding. “I’m not fucking waiting until they get their fucking asses up the stairs.”

And so she got up, holding you in her arms. She carefully cradled your head in her neck, making sure it stayed secure so you wouldn’t accidentally hit something and got a concussion. It was the last thing you needed at that moment. She made sure your hands were on your stomach, pressing lightly onto the wound —it was better than nothing.

“You’re not dying on me,” Sam whispered. She was climbing down the stairs, Gale right behind her. “You’re not, okay, baby?” She felt herself getting choked up at the thought. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Shortly after, the ambulance showed up, and Sam ran towards them. She set you down onto the stretcher gently, and pressed onto the wound until one of the paramedics reached over, grabbing her hand and telling her she needed to leave.

She stood where she had been forced to stay, ignoring all the looks she received. It wasn’t until Gale grabbed her by the arm and moved her out of the way that she noticed she had been standing in the middle of the road.

“She’s being taken to the hospital,” she spoke softly. Sam looked at her arms, covered in blood— covered in your blood, and she almost broke down. Instead, she swallowed, putting her hands on her pockets. “I’ll take you there. I picked up your phone,” she pushed it into Sam’s chest, and she grabbed it. Great, the screen was completely broken. “Call your sister and tell her what’s happened. Tell her you’ll meet at the hospital.”

“Okay,” Sam said. Her dull tone almost scared her. She felt drained. “Okay,” she repeated, watching as Gale went to her car and got inside. It took her a few seconds to open the passenger door, and a few too many trying to unlock her phone to call her sister.

All she could think about was you, and getting revenge on what they had done to you.

#Sam carpenter #scream franchise #scream #sam carpenter x reader #scream 5 #samantha carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter #tara carpenter #melissa barrera #melissa barrera x reader #jenna ortega #sam carpenter imagine #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter fluff #We Get Along Like Snow in New York

[fanfics-and-love]

Sam and reader have gotten extremely close since moving to NYC and living in the same apartment, but when news of Ghostface attacks happening in New York. Sam pushes Reader away, thinking if she pushes her away, she'll be safe and alive. But, when reader is at Gale's apartment, (Dewey was her uncle) She's attacked by Ghostface instead of Gale, Sam and Tara show up to see reader bleeding out in Gale's arms. (She doesn't die)

Hi. Just posted here

#scream #scream franchise #sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter #samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x you #scream 5 #ask #We Get Along Like Snow in New York

[fanfics-and-love]

IS THERE GOING TO BE A SECOND PART TO THE AMBER GF FIC?????

Hi, yes there is! I’ll post it as soon as I can

#scream #scream franchise #amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman imagine #mikey madison #reclaiming a legacy #ask

[fanfics-and-love]

Losing Sense of my Morality Series

ghostface!Sam x reader

Part I

Part II

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #scream #scream 5 #scream v #ghostface!sam carpenter #scream franchise #sam carpenter imagine #sam carpenter x you #samantha carpenter #sam carpenter x female reader #melissa barrera #melissa barrera x reader

[fanfics-and-love]

Dressing for Revenge

Ghostface!Ethan Landry x ghostface!reader

Not my gif

Warning(s): scream VI spoilers, canon typical violence, mentions of blood, mostly fluff tbh

Word count: 2.5k words

Request: Could you do a Ethan x reader where they are both ghostface? Maybe the reader got cut while trying to kill one of the core 4 and they get suspicious when they see the reader limping or something and then Ethan and the reader talk about it after?

masterlist

It was supposed to be easy. Surprise the group after a night out, get them to freak the fuck out so they would rely more heavily on Wayne, and then act like nothing was wrong.

But of course, when did things go your way?

You had it all planned; the core four, as they called themselves, were having dinner out in a restaurant to rekindle after a few stressful weeks of college and work— nothing out of the extraordinary. What you had planned for later, however, was.

Ethan had told you they had been tense recently, ever since the new ghostface attacks had begun to pop up on the news. Chad would flinch whenever you closed a door too loudly, hands going to the phantom wounds on his stomach as if to stop a bleeding that was no longer happening; Sam would look at everyone in the street with a deathly stare that had even made a girl freak out and cross the street; Mindy spent most of her nights locked in her room, trying to figure out who the new killer was, and their motive, to the point she canceled date nights with Anika, too absorbed in her mysteries; Tara simply pretended nothing was wrong, too focused on wanting to live a normal life to truly allow herself the time to realize in just how much danger she was really on.

Tension was palpable in the apartment, Quinn summered up. You could tell Chad was tense as well, what with almost living with him, since you spent more time at Ethan’s than your own dorm.

It was the perfect moment to attack.

So you waited, waiting outside their apartment complex. Your mask covered your face, just like Ethan’s— your breathing was starting to get heavy, and you were thankful for the cold breeze, because the robe was starting to make your hands sweat. You had been in the alley for a good fifteen minutes, waiting for them to appear. It was your first time doing this, but you were ready. You wanted to make them pay for what they did.

You never met Richie, and if you were asked, you would say you really didn’t care about him— how could you, when you didn’t know of his existence until Ethan showed up one day in your dorm, crying about his brother? No, you couldn’t care less about Richie and his stupidity to get himself killed, but the look on Ethan’s face as he mourned his brother, the man who taught him how to ride a bike and chew gum without swallowing it, it broke your heart. It made you wrap your arms around him, allowing him to cry into your shoulder for as long as he needed.

In a macabre way, you were glad Richie was dead. His death brought Ethan and you together, so close you felt like you were made just for him. So when he knocked on your door one night, hair sticking out as he told you about his father’s plan, you grabbed his hand, looked into his eyes and said “I’m in.”

Wayne had been mad at Ethan for telling you about the death plan, as Quinn so inconspicuously called it, but with time he had realized you were truly willing to be part of everything.

Which led you to where you were now: holed up in a dark alley, eying everyone as they walked by, patiently waiting for the right time.

“How are you?” Ethan asked. His voice was strange, so unlike him that you almost asked him to turn off the voice changer. You didn’t, however, not wanting to risk him getting caught. Instead, you slipped your arm around his torso, resting your head carefully on his shoulder.

“Fine,” you said. A chill went down your body at the sound of your own voice. Once all of this was over, you promised yourself you would destroy every voice changer you had the misfortune of running into.

“I can’t believe you did that.”

Ethan and you immediately straighten up at the sound of Tara’s laugh. “Of course I did,” Chad said. He had an arm around Tara’s shoulder. Behind them, Mindy was giggling alongside his twin and his girlfriend, and Sam was looking at her phone, relaxed.

It was the perfect opportunity.

Ethan and you moved almost in perfect sync, exiting the alley before they could enter the apartment complex. Your boyfriend was fast, probably blinded by the anger fueled by the sight of the happy family as he stabbed Chad’s arm. They were taken by surprise, the black of your robes melting with the shadows casted by the lack of light. Ethan pulled out the knife as Chad screamed, and he moved towards Sam, throwing himself at her as he cut her collarbone, close to her neck.

You didn’t hesitate for long, going after Mindy in a slow and well rehearsed walk. She backed away, searching in her pocket for something, but you didn’t give her time, stabbing her right in the stomach once, then twice, and once again before she fell to the ground.

It scared you how much you enjoyed her gasp of pain.

Chad threw himself at you, but you managed to avoid his grasp; had you not, you knew your cover would be blown— Chad was too big for you. Thankfully, you managed to stab him in the back, which made Tara scream. Chad fell to the ground, coughing. You were momentarily surprised by how easily he had been taken down, almost wanting to stab him again just for the pleasure of it, but Tara slammed her purse against your head, disorienting you. It was a miracle the mask hadn’t fallen to the ground.

“Bitch,” Tara said, kicking you in the leg. For someone so small, she surely had strength. Not enough, however, to stop you as you grabbed the knife out of Chad’s back and swung it at her, cutting her across the chest.

“Tara,” Sam said. She was still struggling with Ethan, but judging by the blood seeping into her shirt, you knew Ethan had managed to stab her at least once. She pushed Ethan away, making him trip and fall to the ground. Within seconds, Sam grabbed your knife hand and turned it around, trying to align the weapon right into your heart. Ethan was up quickly, pushing Tara into the ground as he watched the two of you struggle.

You knew it was pointless; Sam was stronger than you. So instead of pushing her away, you moved the knife to the side, and let go. She stabbed you on the arm, making you groan and cry in pain. The movement was smart (or stupid) enough to take Sam by surprise, which Ethan took advantage of; Sam was the last of the core four to fall to the ground, and Ethan’s arms were wrapped around you soon after.

“Are you okay?” He asked. You could only nod as he moved you away from the scene, hiding you as Quinn pretended to hear the noise and scream, calling her father with shaking hands. It was all going as rehearsed, beside your knife sticking out of your arm.

“Perfect. Can’t you tell?” You answered sarcastically.

“I’m taking you back to the apartment,” Ethan said. Police sirens were already breaking the silence that the attack had left.

“Okay.”

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

The knife was removed by careful hands as soon before you made it back to Ethan and Chad’s apartment. You had taken off your robes and mask next, and once you were in Ethan’s apartment, he had taken off your shirt to look at the wound.

“Does it hurt?” He asked. His hand was wrapped around your arm, turning it around to look at the injury.

“Take a wild guess,” you said. Ethan blushed and looked away, and you instantly regretted using that tone. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just— it fucking hurts. I didn’t mean to talk to you like that.”

“It’s okay,” Ethan said, smiling softly at you. “I’m going to cure this, okay?” He got out of the bed, kissing you on the forehead.

“Okay,” you said, sitting up in bed. As Ethan went to his closet to pull out his first-aid kit, you thought of him back in that alley, stabbing people and overtaken by his need for revenge; he felt like a completely different person now, soft and delicate as he disinfected your wound. He apologized everytime you hissed in pain, kissing your shoulder, close to where the cut was.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he wrapped the bandage over your arm. “I should’ve been more careful. You got hurt because of me.”

“Don’t say that,” you murmured, climbing into his lap. You kissed his cheek, running your hand through his hair. Ethan sighed, letting his forehead rest against your shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was,” Ethan said. “I dragged you into this. You did all of this just to help me— this is all my fault. You are hurt because I’m a coward.”

“Ethan, baby,” you said, forcing him to raise his head. You looked into his brown eyes. “It isn’t. I’m a grown woman, I’m part of this because I chose to. Don’t say otherwise or I’ll kick your butt.”

Ethan chuckled, looking into your lips. You kissed him, wanting to feel him close to you. You could have died— he could have died. It had been a nerve racking experience, even if you were aware you had brought it upon yourself.

Ethan’s phone vibrated in his pocket. You got off of his lap and watched as he answered the call.

“Hello? Yeah,” Ethan said. “Shit,” there was a small pause. “Yeah, she’s with me. Yeah— totally. We’ll be right there.”

“Who was it?” You asked when he hung up.

“Sam,” Ethan said. “They’re at the hospital. Chad is in pretty rough shape.”

You hated how excited that information got you. Instead you nodded, not letting anything show on your face as you got up and grabbed one of Ethan’s sweatshirts. You put it on carefully, hyper aware of the wound. “Let’s go, then.”

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

“Sam,” Ethan called when he saw the tall brunette. She turned around, and you stopped for a moment, feigning surprise at the state of her clothes. The shirt she was wearing was dirty and covered in blood, and as she got up, you could see a bandage covering her torso.

“What the fuck?” You said, rushing to her side. “Are you okay?” You eyed the blood.

“It’s not mine,” Sam said. “At least not the majority. I used it to cover Chad’s wound. He was stabbed— he has a punctured lung.”

“Stabbed?” You asked, still looking at all the blood. Had you gone too far? “As in…”

“Ghostface,” Sam nodded.

“What about the others?” Ethan asked.

“Tara is okay. A few stitches, but nothing too serious. Mindy is under surgery.”

“Fucking hell,” you said, stepping away from Sam to look her in the eyes. You could see it then: the mistrust, the hesitation to continue talking with you.

“Where were you?” She asked, just as you had predicted.

“At Ethan’s.”

“All night?” She asked, eyebrows frowned.

“No,” you said. You needed to speak before Ethan began talking and messed things up; as much as you loved him, he talked too much when he was nervous. “He came to pick me up at my dorm, and we took a walk before going home.”

“How convenient,” Sam said, crossing her arms.

“Chad told Ethan he’d be out all night. We decided to take advantage of having the apartment for ourselves,” you said, mirroring her posture. You cringed in pain at the fresh wound— it was a small enough gesture, but Sam still noticed. She eyes your arm, and you were aware of what exactly was going on through her mind. “What are you implying?”

“Nothing,” Sam said, shaking her head. “Sorry. Stressful night, that’s all,” she reached over, grabbing you by the arm exactly where she knew ghostface had been stabbed. She squeezed, feigning a sweet gesture, but you knew what she was aiming at. So you let her, eyes on her as you put your hand on top of hers, squeezing. You held your ground, nothing in your face showing the pain that had almost given you away before. Sam pulled away, seemingly satisfied.

“It’s okay,” you said, backing up until you were resting your back against Ethan’s front. “I get it. We’ll be in the waiting room. Call us when you know something.”

“Sure,” Sam nodded. You walked away, giving her a small smile. You could feel her stare burning into your skull— both apologetic for doubting you and hesitant, not willing to drop you as a suspect just yet.

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

“She suspects me,” you said. You had dragged Ethan into one of the bathrooms, ignoring his burning cheeks as he noticed it was the ladies bathroom. “She saw it— I cringed when I crossed my arms. She knows.”

“She can’t know,” Ethan said, watching as you paced back and forth.

“She can’t yet,” you said. “We still need your father to check the wound to see if it needs stitches. If it does—”

“It doesn’t,” Ethan said softly, walking towards you. He grabbed you by the arms, kissing your forehead. “It wasn’t deep enough. We removed it carefully after some time, and there was barely any bleeding. It just needs a few weeks to fully close.”

“Still…” you shook your head, trying to come up with something to make Sam’s suspicions go somewhere else. “She’ll keep an eye on me, and if I suddenly pull away she’d think it’s because I know she knows. Fuck.”

Ethan grabbed your face, kissing you on the nose. “You’re worrying too much,” he whispered. “She’ll notice if you’re so tense around her,” he began to massage your shoulders, and you almost moaned in pleasure— you hadn’t noticed you were so incredibly uptight. You laid your head on his chest, closing your eyes. “So we’re gonna go buy her some food, and we’re gonna act normal. And then we’ll go back home, and my dad will check your wound. Okay?”

You smiled against him, greedily taking in his smell before pulling away. He smelled amazing, like freshly chopped wood on a stormy day, his cologne; you were thankful you had managed to convince him to stop using axe deodorant, because you hated that scent.

“Okay,” you whispered, pulling away from him. You kissed him, allowing him to grab your hand and pull you away from the bathroom and into the hospital cafeteria.

tags: @bob-the-tomato

#ethan landry #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #scream vi #scream 6 #ethan landry x you #ethan landry fluff #scream franchise #jack champion #jack champion x reader #tara carpenter #sam carpenter

[fanfics-and-love]

You also write chad x reader

Hi! Yes, I do☺️

#chad meeks martin #chad meeks x reader #chad meeks martin x reader #scream 5 #scream franchise #scream 2022 #x reader #ask

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Do you write Mindy Meeks x reader??

Hi, yes!

#mindy meeks martin #mindy meeks x reader #mindy meeks-martin #mindy meeks-martin x reader #scream 2022 #scream imagine #scream franchise #x reader #ask

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Do you only write ghostface!character stories?

Hi! No, I write stories where the character is not ghostface, these just happened to be the first ones I posted😁

#sam carpenter #tara carpenter #amber freeman #ethan landry #sam carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x reader #amber freeman x reader #ethan landry x reader #scream #scream imagine #scream franchise #jenna ortega #melissa barrera #mikey madison #jack champion #ask

[fanfics-and-love]

Loved your Sam fic! Was wondering if there's more coming for her?

Hi, I’m glad you liked it☺️ Yes, I’m definitely planning on writing more stories about Sam, as well as continuing the ghostface!Sam one😉

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #ghostface!sam carpenter #ghostface!sam carpenter x reader #ask

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Are you going to do a part 2 for how did love become so violent? I absolutely loved it and it would make a good series! Only if you want

Yes, I am😁 feel free to send me ideas of how the story can continue���

#tara carpenter #ghostface!tara #ghostface!tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #how did love become so violent #ask

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Do you also write Ethan Landry x reader?

Yes! You can send requests and prompts about him if you want😁

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #jack champion #ask

[fanfics-and-love]

Reclaiming a Legacy

Ghostface!Amber Freeman x reader

Not my gif

Warning(s): canon typical violence, mentions of death, mentions of blood

Word count: 4k words

Summary: You knew someone was behind the new ghostface kills, but you could have never guessed it was your girlfriend, and that the reason behind everything was you, and your past

Request: Can you write something with ghost face amber x reader. ask

A/N: I wanted to give my girl Amber a better motive bc she deserves it✨

masterlist

You knew your girlfriend was a bit of a bitch sometimes, but never a murderer. Sure, she was rude and probably lacked common decency, but when you two were alone, she was kind and sweet.

There was no way she could be ghostface.

And that was what you told Mindy, after the third time that day in which she had questioned you about Amber.

“Mindy,” you said, exasperated. “I love you. I really do, but if you keep insinuating my girlfriend is a killer I’m going to kick your ass.”

“I’m not,” Mindy said, in a tone that told you she was actually aiming at that, toeing the question but not saying it out loud. “I’m just saying, out of all of us…”

“It can also be the nerd obsessed with horror movies who’s related to one of the legacies,” you shot back. “Or the big sister that has suddenly come back after years of no contact. It can be anyone.”

“Sure thing,” Mindy said, rolling her eyes. “But if anyone would want to kill Wes…”

“No one would want to kill Wes,” you said, slamming shut your locker. “He was a good kid. No one held grudges against him. He was chosen because life isn’t fucking fair.”

You cleared your throat when you noticed kids around the hall staring at you. Great, you were going around school screaming about the unfairness of life; as if you needed people to suspect you and your group of friends more.

“Okay. Sorry,” Mindy said, putting a hand on your shoulder. You almost shook it off, still pissed off at her, but with everything that was going on you weren’t sure who could be the next victim, so instead you hugged her.

“I’m sorry too,” you said, pulling away. “It’s just— everything is too stressful. I can’t stand it.”

“I get it,” she said. “I’m sorry. I just want to discover who the fucker is so we can all be safe.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “I’m gonna hang out with Amber and help her with the party, so I’ll see you later. ‘Kay?”

“Okay,” she kissed your cheek. “Be safe.”

“You too.”

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

“Stop fucking in my couch, horny fuckers,” Amber said, pushing two kids away from said couch.

The party was in full swing, almost everyone from school within Amber’s house walls. You thought of Wes, and how he’d take people remembering him with a party. He would have probably hated it, but it had been Amber’s idea, and it was hard to convince her not to do something once she had put her mind to it.

“Hey,” you said, glad you had finally found your girlfriend. It was hard to miss her, considering her attitude filled every room she was in, but parties like the ones she threw were so overwhelming even she could easily disappear in the crowd.

“There you are,” Amber smiled, shortening the distance between the two of you. She rested the red cup in her hand on the coffee table and wrapped her arms around you, nose caressing your neck. “Mm… I’ve missed you,” she said, pulling away to give you a kiss.

“You just saw me,” you giggled, standing on your tiptoes to give her another kiss. She smiled, pulling you even closer to kiss your cheek.

“What? Can’t I miss my girlfriend?” She raised an eyebrow, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Of course you can,” you said, wrapping your arms around her neck. She rested her head on your neck, kissing it softly. “What got you so happy?”

“I’m throwing a party and I have you in my arms,” Amber said, pulling away. There was a glee in her eyes that made your bones chill. “What else could I want?”

“A lot, actually,” you said. Despite how close you two were, it was still somewhat hard to hear her over the music coming from the kitchen. “A million dollars, three hundred puppies, world peace…”

“Nah,” she said, smirking. “I still prefer you.”

You blushed at that, kissing her again. “You dork.”

“A dork you love making out with.”

“That I do,” you smiled, tangling your hands into Amber’s hair as she put her lips on yours.

“You’re so hot,” she said, kissing your jaw. You moaned, tilting your head to the side to give her more space. “Fuck. I love you, baby,” she said. Her voice was sweet and velvety, just like how it was when she talked with you on the phone. You loved these moments where she was vulnerable; it made your heart skip a beat.

“I love you too,” you said. Amber was kissing your neck again, and you tightened your hold on her hair when she began to suck on your neck.

“You do?” She asked, pulling away. You were a little taken back by the sudden movement. “You love me?”

“Wha— of course I do,” you said, looking into her eyes. There was something there, swimming with the glee in the brown waves of her irises, something that made you want to run away from her arms. Instead, you pulled her closer. “I love you.”

“Even if I was the killer?” You tensed, trying to step away from her. She shook her head, dragging your body into hers. “Would you?”

“What the fuck, Amber?” You asked. Mindy’s voice came into the front of your mind; Do you think your girlfriend is capable of killing someone? “Are you for real?”

“Of course not,” Amber said, kissing your forehead. She sighed in anger when she noticed you were still tense. “Relax, babe. I’m just fucking with you.”

“Don’t joke about things like that, Am,” you said, resting your head on her shoulder. “It’s not funny.”

“Jesus,” she said, stroking your back. “Don’t be such a bitch. I was just playing.”

“Let’s just drop the subject, alright?”

“You haven’t answered my question,” Amber said. She was swaying you softly, and the motion was helping lower your frantic heartbeat. “Would you?”

“Uh?” You raised your head.

“Would you still love me if I was the killer?”

“Fucking hell, Amber.”

“Would you?” She repeated. You remembered those random questions she would sometimes ask, out of the blue— would you still love me if I was a worm? Would you still love me if I took shits the size of cars? Would you stay with me if I lost all my teeth?

But that question… it felt different somehow. Like a test you weren’t even aware you were taking.

Would you still love her if she was ghostface?

“Of course I would still love you,” you said, hoping it was all just one of those times she would ask stupid questions.

She smiled, all perfectly lined white teeth popping out in glee. You were taken aback by her happiness, and even more when she pulled you into a passionate kiss. It left you breathless. When she moved away, you could still see the happiness dancing in her face. She looked like a kid that had gotten away with stealing a cookie from the kitchen while their parents weren’t watching.

“Oh, look,” she said, moving away from you. You were momentarily confused at the loss of her warmth. “Tara is here.”

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

The phrase “Welcome to act three” changed your life. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you thought as you hid from your girlfriend, Liv’s blood still fresh in your face. You had plans for the future, in which you moved into the city with Amber, and graduated college, and then got a nice job and got married. You couldn’t have planned for this. Who would?

Amber was ghostface. And you had been too blind to see the truth. If you made it out alive, you knew Mindy would never shut up about it.

How could you have been so goddamn stupid?

“Y/N.”

You turned to your side, seeing Sam kneeling beside the sofa, hiding away from Amber as she dragged someone into the kitchen. Sam raised her hand and gestured for you to go with her, and you did without even thinking. When you reached the older girl, you grabbed her arm, looking into her eyes.

“Fucking hell,” you said. You couldn’t even blink; it felt like your eyelashes had been glued to your face.

“Sh,” Sam whispered, moving closer. You could see her hands were shaking as she looked around. A gunshot was heard, followed by a ringing so deafening you closed your eyes as you covered your ears, cradling your face in your hands. “Fuck.”

“She killed someone else,” you said, still trying to wrap your mind around how she meant ghostface and also Amber.

“Ri—” Sam took a deep breath. “Richie. I— I heard his voice right before— before she—”

“Fuck,” you said. “Sam…”

“Y/N,” Amber called from the kitchen in a singsong voice. “Baby, where are you?”

Sam put her hand over your lips, pulling you closer into the sofa, as if it would magically cover the two of you. You saw Amber enter the living room, wearing the infamous ghostface robe. A chill went down your body at the sight of the blood on her face.

“Baby—”

Tara appeared then, hitting Amber with one of her crutches. Sam went quick into action, getting up and kicking away the gun that had fallen on the ground.

“Bitch,” Amber said, grabbing a handful of Tara’s jacket and pushing her away. You ran towards the girl, helping her sit up. Tara had fallen face first, and it looked like she had broken her nose, judging by the blood running down her chin.

“Fuck you,” Sam said, grabbing Amber and throwing her to the ground. She eyed the gun the same time Amber did, but you knew Sam was cursed; she had pushed Amber right into where the gun was.

“Not so fast, bitch,” Amber said, gun in hand. Sam moved to stand in front of Tara, and all you could do was stare at your girlfriend. “Baby,” she said, turning to look at you. “Come here.”

“Am—”

“Come here,” she repeated, voice sweet. You could see her finger, pressing harder onto the gun’s trigger. If you didn’t move fast, she was going to shoot Sam.

“Okay,” you said, raising your hands. You walked towards Amber, allowing her to grab your arm and turn you around, pushing you into her body.

“Ah. Much better,” she smiled, kissing your cheek. “Now we just have to wait for the bitch to show up. I’m guessing she’s close, right, Samantha?”

You saw Sam’s hand hold tighter on her phone. “How do you know about Sidney?”

“Oh, honey,” she laughed. “If Sidney is anything, it is predictable. I’m guessing she has already figured out whose house is this, and is coming with Gale to save the day, as always.”

“You’re sick in the head,” Tara said. Blood was still dripping from her face, and you were thankful when Sam held her; she looked like she was going to pass out.

“Haven’t you heard, Tara?” Amber asked. She was pushing you away from them and towards the stairs, her grip on your shoulders so hard you knew it would bruise. “We all go a little mad sometimes.”

“Fuck you,” Tara said. You admired her— she could barely stand still yet she was facing off a killer with a gun in hand; you, instead, did nothing as she manhandled you around the house. If only you could do something to stop her…

“Fuck me?” Amber laughed. “You little shit. I kept you alive and this is how you repay me?”

“Should’ve killed me,” Tara said. The girl looked terrifying, with a bloody mouth and eyes opened wide.

“Okay,” Amber said, aiming the gun towards Tara. You watched as her finger pulled the trigger, and didn’t think twice before slamming your body against her, pushing her into the ground. The bullet hit the ceiling instead of Tara’s forehead. “What the fuck?”

“Run!” Sam said, rushing towards your side to pull you up. With your help, she carried Tara upstairs, where you hid in one of the guest rooms.

“Holy shit,” you whispered. You were leaning against the door, breathing fast. “I can’t believe— fuck.”

“How are you?” Sam asked, always the protector.

“How am I? Look at Tara. I think she’s got a concussion.” Sam turned around to see her sister lying on the bed. She was resting on the side, and even though her nose had stopped bleeding, she still looked too out of it. “We should hide her,” you said.

“What?”

“We can’t stay here,” you said. You could hear the front door opening, and Amber screaming. What the hell was she doing? “She’s going to come looking for us. Tara can barely move. She needs to stay somewhere hidden.”

“She needs a fucking hospital,” Sam said, harshly.

“Yeah, but she can’t really get help until we stop Amber. She might kill the people in the ambulance.”

“Okay,” Sam nodded, swallowing hard as she looked at her sister. Running a hand through her hair, she looked around. Soon enough, your eyes met. “The closet,” you said at the same time.

You heard gunshots, followed by a door being slammed shut. You looked at Sam, and took a deep breath. “Take care of Tara.” You ran downstairs, closing the guest room’s door behind you. You hoped Sidney and Gale were okay, and that everything was over. Instead, someone dressed in a ghostface costume greeted you on the last step, making you almost fall.

“Hello, Y/N,” ghostface said. He was using a voice changer. “Fancy seeing you here.” Ghostface pushed at your legs, making you trip. When the person grabbed you by the waist and pushed into their chest, you knew immediately who it was.

“Amber,” you said. You felt tears in your eyes as you walked into the kitchen. Richie —holy shit, Richie was the other ghostface— was holding down Sidney. When he saw her, he threw her another piece of rope.

“Tie her up and go find Samantha,” Amber said. Without even looking at you, she tied your hands together.

“I’m fucking trying,” Richie said. The rope in his hand was being wrapped around Sidney’s hands. What the fuck were they doing?

“Jesus, you’re useless,” Amber said, taking off her mask. “I’ll fucking do it. Go find that bitch before she ruins everything.” Richie nodded, but still stayed until Sidney’s hands were tied. Only then did he leave, pushing the woman into Gale’s body. You followed shortly after, falling into the two injured girls.

“You won’t win,” Sidney said. You were momentarily surprised by her calmness, but of course, she was Sidney Prescott; she had probably gone through worse at the hands of ghostface and survived to tell the tale; this was probably a normal Tuesday night for her.

“Shut the fuck up,” Amber said, raising her gun.

“You never win,” she went on. “You think you do, then you make some mistake and it all goes to shit. I’ve seen it happen before, four times. It’s better if you just untie us and let us call the police.”

“I’m gonna win,” Amber said, moving closer to her. “I’m going to fucking win, okay?”

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Gale spoke. It petrified you how scared she sounded. Was this really the way you died? “You could be the first ghostface that doesn’t die. I could write about you.”

“And what? Call me the bitch that killed your ex-husband while I rot in prison?” Amber laughed. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You really want your girlfriend to see you die?” Gale asked. You were taken aback by her words. Of course she would go for manipulation, she was a writer after all. It surprised you when you saw Amber hesitate, lowering her gun slightly as she looked at you with dark brown eyes.

“I’m doing this for her,” she smiled then, all doubt cleared from her face.

“Ah, so that’s your motive,” Sidney said, sounding annoyed. “Love. I think that’s a new one.”

“You shut your fucking mouth,” Amber said, aiming the gun back at Sidney.

“Here she is,” Richie said in a singing voice. You heard struggles, and then he entered the kitchen, dragging Sam with him.

“Perfect,” Amber said. “What about Tara?”

“Passed out in the bed,” Richie said. Sam groaned in pain as she was pushed to the floor in front of you. “Tied her up and locked the door. Caught this one,” he kicked Sam on the stomach “trying to hide her.”

“Aw,” Amber said, in a mocking soft voice. “Aren’t you the perfect sister?” Richie laughed at her words, stepping away from Sam.

“Time for the big finale,” Richie said.

“Tara is tied up, then, right?” Amber asked. Richie nodded, a gleeful look on his face. “And Chad is gone too?”

“A bullet between the eyes,” Richie laughed gleefully.

“Good,” Amber said. The next second, she shot Richie in the head. All four of you stared in shock. Your ears ringed, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the loud gunshot or the sight in front of you. Richie fell to the ground, blood seeping out of his head and mouth. You almost threw up at the sight of his gray matter laying on the ground. “Now, the real finale,” Amber smiled, turning back to you. “Who wants to die first? Uh?”

“Me,” you said, sitting up straighter. It was about time you were the brave one.

“Oh, baby,” Amber said, chuckling softly. “No. No, you’re not going to die. You and I are going to survive, and we’re gonna be the final girls.”

“Jesus,” Gale said. “Are you out of your mind? All of this for… for what? To be the new Romeo and Juliet?”

“Romeo and Juliet die at the end, you dumb bitch,” Amber said. “No. This is about Samantha.”

“My father,” Sam said. Even though you couldn’t fully see her, the sadness was clear in her eyes. It wasn’t fair, all the guilt she would carry with her if she made it out alive.

“Yes,” Amber nodded. “Your father, your grandma… you have a pretty crazy family, Samantha. Once this is over, all we have to tell the cops is that you wanted to live up your father’s legacy. Once they took a look at your pills and therapist notes, there’ll be no questions about who’s the killer.”

“There’s always two ghostfaces,” Gale said.

“And the other one is right there,” Amber pointed at Richie’s body. “You convinced your boyfriend to kill those people as an act of love, and he did. Good thing I was there to stop you before you killed Y/N.”

Sidney laughed, looking at Amber with almost pity in her face. “And why would Y/N be Sam’s target? Just because? For this to work, it’d have to be Tara.”

“No, no,” Amber said, shaking her head. “You’re not taking everything into consideration.”

“We’ve been through this before,” Gale said. “You think you can outsmart us?”

“I’ve already done it,” Amber said. “Because I know something you don’t. Something that explains everything,” she shook her head, smiling. She looked crazed.

“Jesus,” Sidney said. “You’re even worse than Jill. Stop with the dramatics.”

“Y/N is Stu Macher’s daughter.”

“What?” Gale asked, looking at you. You felt as confused as she did.

“Amber, what the fuck are you talking about?” You asked.

“Stu is—”

“In an asylum,” Amber said. Something shifted in Sidney’s face, something that told you she already knew. “Locked up for years. I know what you’re gonna say,” she chuckled. “How could he have a daughter?” Amber kneeled down beside Sidney. “That’s what I told myself for months when I saw the papers. I thought, “but how? It’s not possible”, until I realized that it could be pretty easy to explain since Y/N’s mom is a psychologist.”

“What is with people in this town and leaving important documents just laying around?” You murmured.

“You can’t be serious,” Sidney said, interrupting you. “How…?”

“Why do you think she got fired?” Amber looked at you. “For sleeping with a patient. With Stu. C’mon, Sidney, I thought by now you were used to secret family members appearing out of nowhere.”

“So that’s it?” Gale asked. “You find some papers and you decide to start killing people?”

“No!” Amber said. You flinched at the scream. “No. Of course not. I had to check everything. This was too big to just say unless I knew for sure. So I investigated, and once I was sure, I searched for a partner online. Someone who would appreciate this plot. Someone who would know how important Stu Macher being alive truly was,” she eyed Richie, on the ground with blood slowly escaping his body.

“Plot? This isn’t a fucking movie!” Gale said.

“It will be, one day. The two daughters of the first Woodsboro massacre killers, facing off each other. Isn’t it perfect?” Amber turned to look at Sam. “Spoiler alert, you lose.”

“You’re sick in the head,” Sidney said. “You know the danger you’re putting her in? People are going to chase her like they will with Sam.”

“But Sam doesn’t have me,” Amber said. “I’m always going to be there to protect Y/N. Always.”

“Not if I kill you,” Gale said. Within a second, she was up, taking advantage of the surprise movement to throw Amber to the ground. Sidney got up next, grabbing a knife to cut the rope, and Sam, to your surprise, ran out of the kitchen and upstairs. You watched everything unfold before your eyes landed on the gun that had once again fallen.

“Stop!” You screamed, gun in hand as you pointed it at the three women. 

Amber had Gale by the hair and Sidney had the knife in her hand, raised to stab Amber in the chest.

“Baby,” Amber said, pushing Gale into Sidney’s body. “Lower the gun.”

“Y/N,” it was Sidney this time, looking at you hesitantly. As if you were going to shoot her. Were you? “Don’t listen to Amber. You can’t be sure.”

“I would never lie to her,” Amber said. She turned her face to look at you. “You know I wouldn’t. You know it, baby. I’ve told you nothing but the truth.”

Your hands shook, but you didn’t lower the gun.

“I love you,” Amber said, in that soft voice you only heard late at night, head pressed on her neck while she ran her hands through your hair. “I’ve done this for you, so you could be the new Sidney— so you wouldn’t have to live under the shadow of Samantha.”

“Am…”

“She’s lying,” Gale said. “Once this is over, the moment you do something she doesn’t like you’ll be next.”

“I’d never hurt her,” Amber said through gritted teeth, grabbing Gale by the shirt. “I’ve done nothing but take care of her.”

You knew your time was running out. Sam had probably opened the guest room upstairs already, and once she was done checking in on Tara, she would come back, more than likely with a weapon. She would be ready to kill Amber, and Sidney and Gale will help her.

Did you want them to kill her? Was it an honor reserved just for you?

Were you going to kill everyone but Amber, and save her?

You weren’t sure, not as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, getting ready for your next move. Still, you pulled the trigger and hoped to god you had made the right choice.

#amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman imagine #scream franchise #scream 5 #scream v #ghostface #ghostface!amber freeman #ghostface!amber #ghostface!amber x reader #mikey madison #tara carpenter #sidney prescott #sam carpenter #Reclaiming a Legacy

[fanfics-and-love]

Can you write something with ghost face amber x reader I loved your sam story

Hi, yes! Here

#amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #ask

[fanfics-and-love]

What are you planning on posting next? Love your stories

Hi! Thank you. Yes, actually— I’m currently working on a ghostface Amber story and I’ll post it soon😊

#amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #ask

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YOUR WRITING IS SO GOOD

Omg thank you so much!!😁

#ask

[fanfics-and-love]

How Did Love Become So Violent?

Ghostface!Tara Carpenter x reader

Not my gif

Warning(s): ghostface!Tara, canon typical violence, mentions of death, mentions of blood, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of stitches

Word count: 5k words

Summary: A new ghostface has been terrorizing Woodsboro. After one of your friends is killed, you fear how close the killer might be. You could’ve never guessed Tara was the one behind everything

masterlist

Tara Carpenter had been a constant in your life ever since you had memory.

When you lost your first tooth, she helped you hide it underneath your pillow and slept with you, holding you so you wouldn’t be taken by the Tooth Fairy. When you broke your leg trying to skateboard at fourteen, she was there on the drive to the hospital, holding your hand and telling you everything was going to be okay. When you failed your math final and your father hit you for the first time, she was there, screaming at him and dragging you towards her house.

When everything else went to shit, Tara was there, next to you, helping you through it. So when murders began to happen again in Woodsboro, she was, of course, there.

You were staying at her house for the weekend, enjoying the calmness after so many days of chaos within the school walls. Another ghostface— god, you couldn’t believe it. People wouldn’t shut up about it either.

“Y/N,” Tara called from the kitchen. You muted the TV, turning to look at her. When she entered the room, she was smiling. “The popcorn’s almost ready.”

“Cool,” you said, getting up to grab two cans of soda from the fridge. 

“Hope the movie’s ready when I get there,” Tara turned back towards the kitchen, humming as she stared at the microwave. She seemed happy— happier than usual. You could only assume it was because summer vacation was getting closer. She hated school.

“Wanna know what we're gonna watch?” You asked, setting a glass on the coffee table. Tara hated drinking soda directly from the can.

“What are you watching?” She said. She only stopped looking at you when the microwave beeped. She put the bag of popcorn out, and poured the content into a bowl.

“Just the news,” you said, raising your shoulders.

“Turn that off,” she said, walking towards the sofa. She set the popcorn down harsher than necessary, sitting beside you. “You know how you get with this stuff.”

You nodded, deciding to open the Netflix app on the TV. Tara was right— you hated the whole ghostface fiasco. If you had to be honest, it scared you to pieces, though you would never admit it out loud in fear people would call you a coward. You sometimes wished you could just move out of Woodsboro, its bloody history making your bones chill. But of course, you were still underage so leaving was not an option, and even if it was, that would mean leaving Tara.

You couldn’t leave her, not after she was abandoned by her father and her sister, and her mother became a drunk. You had promised it the night Tara ran to your house, crying as she told you that Sammy is gone. You had held her throughout the night, whispering in her ear that she wasn’t alone.

“I’m right here. I’m never going to leave you,” you had pulled away then, looking into her brown eyes, surrounded by red from all the crying. “We’ll always be together.”

Something had changed in her face then, something that had made you realize it wasn’t simple words— it was a promise. One you weren’t sure how far Tara would take it to make sure you kept it.

“Sorry if I was harsh,” Tara said, as you scrolled through the multiple movie options. You turned to look at her. “I’m— I didn’t mean it that way.”

“You weren’t harsh,” you said, leaving the remote on the sofa to grab her hand. You wrapped your arms around her left one, resting your head on her shoulder. “You’re right. I get really spooked by those things. I know you’re just trying to protect me.”

And it was true. Ever since you were kids, Tara had protected you. Once, when a group of children had pushed you off a swing, she had punched one straight on the nose, hard enough to make it bleed. She had them feigned regret, telling the mother of the kid she was swinging her hands around and he just ran into her fist. You had backed her up, and after a while the mother had given up and had left the two of you alone.

It got worse after her father left, and once her sister did as well… Tara changed. She was still sweet, and caring, and the best friend in the entire world, but sometimes she would get this look on her face when you declined hanging out with her, or when you talked about how cute that guy from the TV show you were watching was. You weren’t sure what exactly it was; if it really was anything at all and not just your mind playing tricks on you, but whatever it was, you hoped it never got worse.

“I am,” Tara said. She kissed you on the head. “I will always protect you.”

You hummed, eyes getting heavy. Tara was always so warm, it felt nice to rest against her.

“Oh! Titanic,” you said. You two alternated every movie night to have control over the movie choices; you would always pick the romances or the romcoms, and Tara would choose scary movies that always ended up with you screaming and hiding your face in Tara’s neck.

“You’re a hopeless romantic,” Tara said, laughing. She grabbed the popcorn and set it on her lap, leaning back against the sofa as you pressed play.

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

Wes Hicks was found dead the following day, stabbed through the heart and neck, the cut so fiercely that the killer had almost fractured the bones on his spine. He was the fourth victim, and the closest to your group of friends.

Wes’ mother, Judy, had woken you and Tara up that morning, eyes red as she frantically asked you to go to the police station. You had gotten into her car, confused; she had almost dragged you towards it, so fast that you were still wearing your pjs and Tara’s jacket— she had lent it to you after she saw you shaking in the morning breeze.

“I can’t believe Wes is dead,” Chad said. After the interrogations, you had gathered around with Tara, Amber, Mindy and her outside the police station.

“Me either,” you said.

Amber rolled her eyes when she saw you were crying. “Honey, don’t be a crybaby. He was a dork anyways.”

You looked taken back by her words. “Wes is— was a good person. Don’t talk about him like that.”

“What are you gonna do?” She asked, moving closer to you. “Stab me?”

“What the fuck, Amber?” Mindy said, pushing her away. “Stop acting like that. Our friend is dead.”

“And we might be next,” she said, raising her shoulders. “Who the fuck knows. He was the weakest one anyway.”

“Don’t say that,” you said, sharply. You knew deep down that if someone from your friend group were to die, it would be Wes, but that didn’t mean she had to be so cruel about it, especially when his mother was a few feet away, mourning him.

“Where were you last night?” Mindy asked, crossing her arms.

Amber looked at her, and then laughed. “In my fucking house, where else?” After a moment of silence, she crossed her arms as well, moving to be in front of Mindy. “And why the fuck are you asking me that?”

“You seem rather relaxed and almost happy that your supposed friend is dead,” Chad said. “You can’t blame us for asking.”

“Oh, but I can,” Amber said, in a soft voice. “Because I can also ask where you were, and where your girlfriend was.”

“Leave Liv out of this,” Chad said, walking towards the dark-haired woman.

“Maybe you are the killer,” Amber said, eying the twins. “You two; the brains,” she pointed towards Mindy, “and the muscle.”

“I was with Liv,” Chad said.

“And I was with Frances,” Mindy said, harshly.

Amber looked at you then. “And what about you?”

“I was with Tara the entire day,” you said, feeling uncomfortable under her stare. You hated that Tara was being surprisingly quiet and wasn’t defending you.

“How convenient,” Amber said, shaking her head. “Everyone but me has a perfect alibi.”

“Maybe it’s because you are the killer,” Mindy said.

“Fuck off,” Amber said. “I’m not. But…” she turned to look at you— no, right behind you. Something crossed Amber’s face then, and she laughed. “Oh, I know just who the person is,” she said. “I know exactly who the new ghostface is,” she chuckled, turning around.

“What?” Mindy asked, looking taken back by her sudden change. “Amber!”

“What?” Amber said, getting out her car keys. “Angry I figured it out before the queen of horror?”

Tara ran after Amber, stopping her. The three of you looked as they talked, and then Amber left pushing Tara away.

“What did she say?” Chad asked.

“I asked her to go to the police,” Tara said, putting an arm around your shoulders. “I told her if she knew something she should go tell Judy, so we can get justice over Wes, but she said she doesn’t fuck with the police. Whatever that means.”

“It means she’s lying,” Mindy said. “She doesn’t know who ghostface is, and is just trying to fuck with us.”

“I think so too,” Tara said. “I just hope ghostface didn’t hear her.”

“Should we tell Judy?” You asked, leaning into Tara’s body. “Maybe he’s heard and Amber is her next victim.”

The four of you went quiet. You looked around, noticing how many people were in the surroundings of the police station. It ought to be busy, considering what had just happened, but that could mean ghostface was around, watching you and choosing his next target. A chill went down your body, and you burrowed your body into Tara’s. She held you closer, feeling your uneasiness.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Tara said. You could feel the vibrations of her voice through her body. “Amber is just fucking with us, and Judy has enough to deal with already. Giving her a possible lead and it turning into Amber being an idiot…”

“It’d break her heart,” you said, understanding her reasoning. “You’re right. Besides, it’s not like ghostface would just be stalking us… right?”

“Yeah,” Mindy said. She too was looking around, taking in all the faces surrounding your group. Inconspicuously, she pulled out her phone and took photos of the people. “Just in case.”

“Good thinking,” you said, making Mindy smile.

“I say we go back home and wait until we know something else,” Chad said. He turned to look at you. “Your mom is still off on that business trip, right?” You nodded. After your father left, your mother got a job that required her to be away for long periods of time. It paid the bills, so you didn’t complain much. “Then go to Tara’s, or Tara goes to your house. Once Liv is done being interrogated, I’ll take her to our house,” he looked at Mindy, who nodded. “And tomorrow we gather around and try to figure out who this fucker is. But until then, no one goes anywhere alone.”

“What about Amber?” you asked.

“Her house has a dope security system,” Tara said. “She’s safer inside her house. We’ll text her later about tomorrow. Maybe she actually knows who’s ghostface.”

“I doubt it,” Mindy said, never once the one who was okay with losing.

“I doubt it as well,” Tara said. “But we won’t know until tomorrow. So today we do what Chad said. Got it?”

All of you nodded, but you still felt something gripping at the back of your throat. Something was off, something that Amber could have figured out, but what was it?

“Hey,” Tara said, opening the car door for you. “It’s going to be fine, okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, eyes staring straight ahead. 

You could be the next victim. You could already see the headlines: Y/N Y/L/N, dead at 18. You looked over at Tara. She could be the next one.

“What?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. She closed the car door and locked it, turning once again to look at you. “What is it, baby?”

You felt tears in your eyes. “Don’t leave me.”

“I would never leave you,” Tara said, cradling your face in her hands. “Never, okay?”

“What if you’re the next one?” You asked. You could almost see it; Tara, laying breathless on the ground, blood slowly clogging around stab wounds. “I— I don’t want you to die. Please. I love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispered. “And nothing is going to happen to me, okay? I’m going to be with you all day, and then we’ll take down that asshole together.”

“Please, don’t die,” you begged, grabbing her by her shirt. “Please.”

“I won’t,” she said. You couldn’t believe how sure she sounded.

You shook your head, and without stopping to think of the consequences, you cut the distance between your lips. Tara responded automatically, grabbing your neck and deepening the kiss. After a moment of just enjoying her close to you, you pulled away. “Wow.”

“Yeah, wow,” she said. She was still holding you by the neck. “Where did that come from?” She whispered. Her breath hit your lips, and you licked them, looking into her eyes.

“I— I’m not sure,” you said. You rubbed your nose against her, making her laugh softly. “I didn’t want one of us to die without doing this.”

“We’re not going to die,” she said. “Scratch that. I must’ve died and gone to heaven, because this is all I ever wanted.”

“Really?” You asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I think I’ve been in love with you my entire life.”

You chuckled, pulling away to caress her cheek. “If we make it—”

“We will.”

“If we make it,” you said, giving her a hard look. She laughed, moving her hand towards your hair, scratching your scalp softly. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

She smiled, lips stretching almost painfully. You couldn’t help yourself from kissing her again, teeth crashing into each other as you laughed. You had been wanting to kiss her for ages, and it had taken a new ghostface for you to gather up your courage.

A new ghostface. Wes, dead. And here you were, kissing and laughing with Tara. It felt like a dishonor to his memory.

“What is it?” Tara asked, noticing how your face had dropped.

“I just can’t believe he’s gone,” you whispered, blinking at the new tears that were trying to escape. “He was alive just yesterday, talking and laughing… it’s not fair.”

“It isn’t,” Tara agreed, resting a hand on your thigh. “But we’re going to figure it out, alright? And you’re going to be just fine.”

You chuckled. “You can’t promise that, Tara. Not when there’s a killer on the loose.”

Tara smiled then, and something in the back of your mind screamed at the sight; that wasn’t her normal smile, the one she had just given you after the kiss. It was gone the next second, when she reached over the console to kiss you on the cheek, and you smiled softly at the gesture. God, this whole mess was driving you crazy. 

“You’re safe,” she said. “Don’t worry.”

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

You woke up in the middle of the night, hearing a noise somewhere in the house. You sat up in Tara’s bed, reaching for her side of the bed.

Empty.

You had spent the entire day with her, laughing and stealing kisses. She had ordered chinese and had let you put on one of your favorite comedies to make sure your mind stayed away from Wes. She had even made you lasagna, even though she always complained about how dragging it was to make it all for it to end up tasting like feet, and you had fallen asleep shortly after, the taste of her mother’s wine still on your lips as you kissed her goodnight.

“Tara?” You asked, rubbing your eyes. Your head hurt as you got up, going to the bathroom. She wasn’t there either. You walked back to the bedroom as quietly as possible, grabbing your phone. You turned on the flashlight and, after a moment where you took a deep breath and gathered some courage, you walked downstairs.

You walked into the kitchen, thinking maybe Tara had gone there for a glass of water. Instead, you found it empty. You turned on the light and tried calling Tara, but it went straight to voicemail.

Something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong.

You grabbed a knife and turned around, looking at the place. It seemed empty, but was it? Had ghostface somehow gotten inside the house? Had Tara gone to check out some noise, just like you were doing now, and ghostface had killed her?

“Tara?” You asked in a whisper, rushing to turn on the lights of the living room.

Nothing. You looked behind the sofa, and the closet beside the front door where Tara kept all her coats. Nothing. You made sure the front door was closed, and then ran towards the dining room. Nothing. Nothing.

Where the hell was Tara?

You decided to check the bedrooms upstairs, and moved towards the kitchen to grab a bigger knife. Before you could, a hand covered your mouth and dragged you back to the living room, turning off the lights as they went. You tried to scream, and even bite off the hand, but they were wearing thick gloves that all it did was make your jaw hurt.

“Shh. I’m not going to hurt you,” you heard that disgusting modulated voice, and tears began to fall.

Ghostface was going to kill you. Ghostface had killed Tara, and she was probably laying in one of the guest rooms upstairs, her blood staining the carpet. 

Once he let you go, you turned around, ready to stab him right in the chest. But he was faster, grabbing your hand and twisting it until you dropped the knife. You gasped, feeling tears as you saw your only lifeline fall to the ground in front of your eyes.

You were dead. All he had to do now was raise his knife and—

He did raise his hand, but it was empty. He grabbed your face, caressing your cheek. The material of the glove was surprisingly soft against your skin.

“Fuck you,” you said, trying to punch him in the face. He grabbed your other hand, and pushed you towards his body. The warmth felt familiar, and the smell… no, it couldn’t be.

You looked in complete shock as ghostface raised his hand and took off his mask.

Your knees almost gave in when you looked into Tara’s eyes.

No. No. No fucking way. This had to be a nightmare. Tara wouldn’t…

She wouldn’t, would she?

“Baby,” Tara whispered, dropping the mask to the ground. She stepped towards you, but you immediately moved away as you shook your head. It couldn’t be.

“You’re pranking me,” you said, voice shaky. “You— it can’t be.”

“Baby, let me explain,” she said. Though the awful mask was on the ground, she was still wearing the black robe. It made her look terrifying against the darkness, almost as if she was a flying head.

“Explain?” You asked, putting even more distance between the two of you. “You’re— you’re ghostface?”

“Yes,” Tara said. She was starting to look desperate, and you didn’t want to know what she would do then.

Would she kill you, just like she had killed Wes and those other three students? Were you her next victim? Was what had happened today all a lie, a way to get you to lower your defenses? If you hadn’t woken up, would she have stabbed you in your sleep?

“God,” you said. The tears were falling too fast now. You could barely breathe.

“Baby, listen to me,” Tara was begging. She wanted to get close to you so she could kill you? You looked at her hands, raised in surrender. Where was she keeping her knife? “Please, just let me explain.”

“You’re going to kill me,” you said, crying.

“No!” She said, in a rush. She frantically shook her head, walking all the way until she had you in her arms. You tried not to shake. “Baby, Y/N— please, look at me. Please.”

Her left hand grabbed your chin, guiding your face until you had no choice but to look at her. “Tara, how could you?” Her gloves felt wet, and you touched your chin, looking to see your fingers bloody. “God. God, Tara. This is blood.”

“It’s not mine,” she said, cursing to herself as she took off the gloves. Stupid, she should’ve taken them off before touching you.

“Whose is it?” You asked, drying your hand on your shirt. “Fucking tell me!” You pushed at her chest, hating how much she was prolonging it. You just wanted her to kill you so you could be over this panic. 

“Amber’s.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the name. So she knew— she had figured out Tara was the killer, and that had gotten her killed. You couldn’t believe what was happening.

“What?”

“When she said she knew who the killer was,” Tara said, once again moving towards you. “I ran to her and told her we’d talk at night,” she was soft as she grabbed your hands. It felt nice to finally feel her skin on yours. “She said yes, because she wanted to be part of it. The fucking hero who will bring the Stab movies back from it’s fall from grace,” you swallowed hard, trying not to picture Tara stabbing Amber. “I put sleeping pills on the wine,” your breath was momentarily stuck in your throat; so that was why she had declined the glass you had offered her. “So you would fall asleep fast. That way I could go talk to get and not implicate you. It was to keep you safe, and out of this.”

“Jesus Christ,” you rubbed your forehead. Now it made sense why your head had hurt so much when you had woken up. It was a wonder you were even awake now, which was probably why she had been more careless moving around the house and making noises.

“ I was just going to talk to her. I swear. I didn’t want to kill her,” she sounded desperate as she grabbed your cheeks, making you look at her. “She kept the back door open, and I got in. I had the ghostface costume on my back because I knew she’d want to see it. And she did. God, her eyes…” she shook her head. “She was delighted when I told her how I killed Wes, and those three other boys.” Those three other boys who had asked you out this past year, you completed the sentence. How could you have been so stupid to not connect everything before? It all pointed towards you, which in turn pointed towards Tara. “But then,” Tara said. “But then she started to talk about my sister, and—” she shook her head. “That doesn’t matter. We were going to arrange an attack on her, to eliminate her as a suspect, and then one on me. But I knew the more she talked, that she was planning on killing you. Her movie could only have two survivors. I knew it, and she knew it. I couldn’t allow it. So I went into the bathroom while she was typing on her computer with a smile on her face and put on the mask and the robe, and then I killed her. She couldn’t kill you.”

“Why?” You asked, trying not to notice Tara’s fingers gently drying your tears. “Because I’m yours to kill?”

“No!” Tara said. “You— no. Please, don’t ever say that,” the desperation in her voice surprised you. “Please. No. Never. I will never let anyone hurt you, not even myself. I will never hurt you.”

“Tara, you’re a murderer,” you said, blinking rapidly. You refused to cry anymore. You were too angry to shed any more tears. “You fucking killed Wes!”

“Because he was going to steal you,” Tara said. Her eyes were wide open; it made her look terrifying, so different from the girl you’ve known for so long. “He was in love with you. I heard him talk with Chad, saying how he wanted to ask you on a date. I couldn’t let him do it.”

“God, Tara…” you closed your eyes, letting your head fall towards the wall. You weren’t even sure when she had cornered you, but it made your heart beat faster when you realized you had nowhere else to go. “You… you’re crazy. Like clinically sick in the head. Mental asylum type of way.”

“You drive me crazy,” she whispered, her lips hovering over yours. You put your hands on her shoulders and pushed her away. “I did all of this for you. So we could be together.”

“Tara—”

“We have to be together,” she said. “Don’t you see? It’s always been you and I. My father left, my sister left, my mother doesn’t even look my way on the rare occasion she’s home… but you have never left me, because you’re my constant. I can’t let anyone take you away from me. I’d go crazy without you.”

“And this is not crazy?” You asked, fisting her robe harshly. You couldn’t help but remember just that morning, when you had grabbed her shirt the same way to push her towards you. The memory tasted bittersweet now, tainted by her recent actions.

“This is me making sure things stay the same,” Tara said. Her nose caressed your neck, and you let her. Your body was completely petrified. “We’ve been so good lately. You even kissed me today. You want to be my girlfriend. You asked me on a date.”

“That was before,” You said, shaking your head.

“This doesn’t change anything,” she said, desperate. “I’m still the same person I was this morning.”

“I thought I knew you,” you said in a whisper. “I thought… I thought we were in this together. I didn’t know you were a fucking killer.”

Tara swallowed, tears in her eyes. “Please,” she said, hands on your hands. “Please, please. Y/N, please. Don’t leave me.”

“Tara…”

“I’ll beg until my throat is raw. I’ll beg on my knees— do you want me to get on my knees and ask you for forgiveness? I will right now. I’ll do whatever you want.”

You rushed to grab her forearms when you saw her beginning to lower herself onto the ground. “Don’t do that,” you said through gritted teeth. “Get up. Jesus.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, straightening her back. “Please. You’re all I have. I did this for you— for us. I don’t know what’s gonna happen to me if you leave.”

“For fuck’s sake…” This was too much. You looked down, and saw her hands were shaking. Her eyes were full of fear, so profound you couldn’t stop yourself from hugging her. She immediately relaxed into your body, head pressed against your neck as she sobbed.

“I did this for us. Don’t leave me,” she whispered over and over, as you ran your hands through her back. 

You were reminded of the night her sister left. You had held her just like this, and she had shaken the same way as she cried. What would happen if you packed your bags and left, just like you had been planning in your mind ever since she had removed that mask? Something horrible, even compared to those four kills.

You didn’t want to know what would happen. It made your skin crawl with fear.

“It’s okay,” you whispered.

She felt small in your arms, opposite to how she usually acted— like the oldest, the strongest, unable to feel any fear or pain as she let you rely on her. She had always tried to be strong for you, with the exception of now; and that time when she was a little kid and had scraped her knee, so hard she had needed two stitches. You had hugged her as she shook in pain, waiting for your mom to pull out the car so she could take her to the hospital.

“Don’t go,” she begged. It was hard to imagine this same girl that was clutching onto you killing people emotionlessly. It was hard to see her as anything but your Tara.

“I won’t,” you whispered, running your hand through her hair. “I won’t leave you.”

“You won’t?” She asked, pulling away to look at you. You sighed, drying her tears.

“I won’t,” you said, hating how your loyalty towards her was stronger than your moral compass. But this was Tara, a girl who loved you, and a girl that would be dangerous if you weren’t there to stop her. “But you have to promise you won’t kill anyone else.”

She hesitated, eyes looking at the ground. You wondered if she was too far gone to live without killing now she had gotten a taste for it.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to find out.

“I promise.”

And deep down, you knew she was lying. But you still allowed her to grab your neck and kiss you. Her lips were just as soft as when you kissed her for the first time.

You weren’t sure if you had made the right choice.

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #ghostface!tara #ghostface!tara carpenter #ghostface tara #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #scream franchise #scream #scream 5 #scream 2022 #scream v #x reader #amber freeman #How Did Love Become So Violent

[fanfics-and-love]

Do you write smut as well?

Hi! Yes I do😉

#tara carpenter #sam carpenter #amber freeman #scream #tara carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x reader #amber freeman x reader #ask