Got My First Request

Got my first request

Yay

Hurt/Comfort Tara x Reader coming soon

Heads, Hearts, and Hangovers

☆〜Pairing: Amber Freeman x Fem!Reader

☆〜Genre: Fluff

☆〜Word Count: 1.7k

☆〜Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, suggestive language, underage drinking

(Y/n) shuffled through the bursting halls of the Freeman residence, weaving her way through the swaying bodies as if she were swimming amidst a school of intoxicated fish. Scouring towards the kitchen, desperately seeking her girlfriend amidst the chaotic party scene. It was no secret that Amber had indulged in a few too many drinks-not that she hadn't herself-and now she stumbled around clumsily, attempting to lend a hand to fellow partygoers.

A door creaked to her left, a familiar denim jacket caught her eye as she stumbled to the side, eyes meeting her flushed lover as she fought with the stubborn door, juggling a cascade of beers in her arms like delicate newborns, her face glowed spotting her girlfriend through the crowd.

"Jesus Amber, what the fuck- here let me carry some," (Y/n) exclaimed, voice filled with concern and surprise as she reached out to take a few beers from Amber's overwhelmed grip.

Amber, however, shook her head stubbornly, a determined glint in her eyes. "Don't worry (N/n), I've trying to show off for my girlfriend,"

(Y/n) chuckled, her worry mingling with amusement, as she threw her hands up. "Alright, Hercules. But if you drop them, I'm not helping you to clean it up!"

Amber threw her head back in hysterics, stumbling in her tipsy state, bottles clinking together as she reached the kitchen counter, as the bottles tumbled and scattered across the counter, one rogue bottle dared to defy gravity, teetering precariously on the edge. (Y/n) stumbled forwards, grasping the neck before it plummeted to its demise on the sticky, rustic wooden floor, (Y/n) sent her most intimidating glare—which wasn't very intimidating due to her inebriated state—Ambers eyes widened in shock, her mouth gaping like a fish.

Amber regained her composure, grasping the beer bottle from her hands and popping the cap in between her teeth before deftly leveraging her jaw as a makeshift bottle opener. With a determined twist, the cap relinquished its grip, releasing a faint hiss of escaping carbonation. (Y/n) stood there, eyes wide with astonishment, momentarily frozen in a state of disbelief.

"I didn't know you could do that," she whispered, In the cacophony of the crowd, (Y/n)'s voice barely carried, but Amber still heard her. She handed her the beer, as her she opened her own.

Ambers arms snaked around her waist pulling her to her body. Lost in a moment of intimacy, she gazed into (Y/n)'s eyes, discovering a universe of stars twinkling within them. Amber leaned in closer to (Y/n)’s eyes dipping to her glistening lips.

"Yeah? If you think my mouth is impressive at opening bottles, you should see what else it can do."

(Y/n)'s fingers instinctively found the delicate silver heart pendant that adorned Amber's neck, using it as a tether to draw her closer. With a desperate pull, she closed the remaining distance, their lips meeting in a ravenous, passionate kiss. (Y/n)'s fingers found their way into Ambers's hair, gripping with fervent need. Ambers's hand lay on her cheek, her gentle hands caressing her softly, as her right hand rested on (Y/n)'s waist, the ice-cold beer sending shivers up her spine.

A whistle sounded from behind them, Amber pulled away, glancing over her shoulder into the living room, where Chad and Mindy sat watching a Stab movie.

"Get a room, you two!” Mindy shouted in a hazy state, hands cupped around her mouth, to be heard from across the house. Chad was chuckling beside her. (Y/n) whipped her head around, flipping the two off as they made their up to her room. (Y/n) giggled like the love sick teen she was, clutching Ambers hand tightly in her grasp, as they clambered the stairs.

Surprisingly, no horny houseguests had escaped to Ambers bedroom to have sex. Quietly shutting the door behind them, creeping into the room as if they were attempting to be discreet. The muffled sound of music entered the room through the drywall. It’s melodic rhythm and pulsating beats reduced to a muffled haze as it traversed through the walls. Faint vibrations tingled in the air, an auditory tapestry that whispered tales of distant celebration and drew her thoughts towards the lively atmosphere beyond her sanctuary. (Y/n) could feel the floor softly vibrating beneath her.

Amber held her hand softly leading her to the bed to lay down on the bed, the burgundy bedsheets welcomed her like a cloud as she sunk into the mattress. Amber switched off the room lights and lay down next to her, adjusting so (Y/n) could rest her head on her chest, lovingly stroking her hair. She let out a big sigh content with her lover in her arms, gazing up at the glow-in-the-dark ceiling star she had scattered throughout. She used to be terrified of the dark when she was younger, afraid the monsters would come for her, but (Y/n) gave her an extra packet she had for her room. Ever since that moment, no matter where they were, the star would keep them linked, they were written in the constellations.

“I can’t believe we still have these up,” (Y/n) sighed caressing her waist, letting out a delicate giggle she uttered, “Who knew our thing would be luminous ceiling stars!”

Not receiving a response, (Y/n) broke her gaze from the ceiling to connect with Ambers affectionate gaze. No words were exchanged, but the emotions were palpable in their shared gaze. Their eyes spoke volumes, communicating a depth of emotion without uttering a single word. Silent but expressive, their gazes conveyed a tapestry of emotions: love, longing, understanding.

Both of them lay in a state of peaceful contentment, the stars softly illuminating the room, broken by a car's headlights shining in the driveway.

Everything was as it should have been.

Ambers's body tensed up, arms leaving (Y/n)’s huddled body and slamming them flat onto the sheets—startling poor (Y/n) who began to fall asleep—Amber sat straight up, straining her ears, head tilted towards the door, suddenly her head whipped round to face a concerned, confused (Y/n). She could tell by the look on her face, that whatever she was going to say was going to be something stupid, by the shit-eating grin plastered on her flushed cheeks.

“List- (N/n)Listen, it’s our song!” She exclaimed grasping her hands tightly.

“Amber, it’s Pitbull”

“I love this song,” she muttered to herself, she attempted to pull (Y/n) to her feet to dance with her, “Amber it’s Fireball by Pitbull, this isn’t our song?” (Y/n) burst out laughing tugging Amber back to her arms, she resisted.

“It can be!”

“I am not letting Mr fucking Worldwide be the song for my first dance,” Amber paused, arms going limp to her side, “first dance? You want to have your first dance with me?”

(Y/n) looked at her lovingly, eyes scanning her shell-shocked frame, her eyes wide, her eyes welling up slightly.

“though you’ll have to propose first-“Ambers's entire body moved at a lightning pace, hands grasping (Y/n)’s face pulling her in for a passionate kiss—which failed miserably—the two girls recoiled in pain as their heads collided, holding their foreheads in a mix of shock and pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry— I didn’t mean to, babe, I’m so sorry,” Ambers's eye remained screwed shut, attempting to comfort her girlfriend by caressing her knee—which she now knelt beside in pain—in attempt to apologise for the erratic rush of affection she tried to display when her emotions overwhelmed her.

(Y/n) peeled open her eyes, more concerned for her girlfriend than herself, “It’s ok, baby, you didn’t mean to, I know,” she lightly touched her wrist moving it delicately away from her face, the area on the centre of her forehead being to explode in an aggressive red.

“Come on, I think it’s time for bed, we still have to clean the house tomorrow,” Amber groaned at the thought of having to clean up after the party, letting (Y/n) pull her into the bed beside her, both of them stripping themselves of their clothes to get more comfortable.

“Just so you know, I’d love to marry you someday (N/n),” Amber said while looking intently into her eyes, she placed a soft kiss on her red lips before closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around (Y/n)’s chest to sleep. Placing a peck to the top of her head, (Y/n) surrendered to her slumber.

A loud knock startled the two girls out of their deep rest. The morning sun streamed harshly through the curtains, casting its bright light in stark juxtaposition to the lingering glow of the ceiling stars that had illuminated the room the night before.

(Y/n) sat straight up, her head was pounding and the sunshine wasn’t doing her head much justice, reaching over Amber—who turned around burying her face into (Y/n)’s side, refusing to wake— to get some Tylenol for herself and her clingy girlfriend.

Tara peeked her head in through the small gap in the door, “You guys aren’t naked are you?” Her eyes were screwed shut in case she saw something she couldn’t erase from her mind if she tried.

Amber groaned into (Y/n)’s waist, sending a tickling sensation up her side, “completely nude,”

“Haha, seriously guys, Wes is down there attempting to make breakfast, I’d seriously get down there before he-“ Tara paused, examining both (Y/n)’s and Amber’s faces, “I expected hickeys, but Jesus Christ—what the fuck did you two do last night!”

Amber and (Y/n) both turned to face each other in confusion, the aftermath of their accidental collision present itself, as both Amber and (Y/n) were left with a visible mark etched upon their foreheads. A gentle, purplish-blue bruise adorned the skin, a tender reminder of their drunken mishap from the night before. Its presence, now in daylight, seemed to amplify the slight discomfort they felt.

“Shit!” Amber exclaimed, assuming hers didn’t look any better, (Y/n)’s hand gently felt around her forehead, the feel the extent of the pain. “We hit our heads against each other last night, when I tried to kiss her,”

At the explanation, Tara clutched her side, grabbing the door handle to stop herself from collapsing to the floor, “good luck trying to explain that to everyone!” She scurried off as quickly as she came, leaving the two girls alone once again. Amber shrugged laying back down to sleep, pulling (Y/n) down with her.

“I guess we have another thing that ties us together now,”

Please send in some requests for Scream <3

I fucking love Amber so much, and it was surprisingly easier to write for fxf than mxf, my sapphic side is really slaying today,.

i absolutely adored your amber fic, I was hoping you could write a tara x reader (with an established relationship) where she’s the first to arrive to see her at the hospital arriving long before the others? maybe tara could have been texting her during the attack?

Solace

☆〜Pairings: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

☆〜Genre: Hurt/Comfort, angst, slight fluff

☆〜Word Count: 5.7k

☆〜Warnings: mentions of pet death, ghost face attack, blood, stabbing, hospitals, violence, language

☆〜Authors Note: I did NOT intend for this fic to be almost 6k words long, I literally have work tomorrow and it’s four am. You Tara Carpenter hoes gonna love this one, also the sheer amount of words making my tumblr lag so much

☆〜 Sequel: Redemption

Laying spread out on her couch, (Y/n) sighed in contentment. Tonight, their long-awaited date finally materialized as a beacon of hope after countless cancellations. The first time was due to Tara catching a stomach virus, and the second was cancelled when (Y/n) had a family emergency. Praying to any deities she could think of, that tonight would go exactly as planned, Tara had procured the snacks and (Y/n) scoured her parent's old stash of movies to find something good to watch.

As the golden hues of the Californian sun gently descended, casting a warm glow that seeped through the curtains of the living room, (Y/n) gazed out the window. Outside, the autumnal symphony of colors unfolded, as leaves gracefully danced in the breeze, their descent creating a delicate tapestry upon the porch. " I should get going," she groaned to herself, not ready to leave the comfort of her home, but eager to see Tara nonetheless. They were two souls who found solace in each other's embrace, navigating the highs and lows with unwavering support. Their mothers said the two were like two puzzle pieces perfectly aligned, they fit together in seamless harmony. Where you'd find one, you'd find the other.

Moving swiftly toward the coffee table where her phone rested, (Y/n) snatched it up and eagerly turned it over, her eyes darting across the screen in anticipation. Amongst the sea of notifications, a particular text caught her eye, demanding her immediate attention.

Tara:

hey any way we can resched movie night? ambers planning to come over

(Y/n)’s heart plummeted as disappointment crashed over her like a relentless wave. Not again. This week had been filled with one hardship after another, and the movie night had been the single gleaming light that had kept her going. She felt the weight of her emotions welling up, threatening to spill over as tears pooled in her eyes.

It hadn't escaped (Y/n)'s notice that something was amiss between Tara and herself. Lately, their once vibrant connection had dimmed, leaving behind an unsettling silence. Tara's responses to her texts were delayed, leaving them unread for what felt like an eternity, only to receive curt and simple replies. Their nightly calls, once filled with laughter and heartfelt conversations, had dwindled to mere whispers of their former selves.

(Y/n) had tried to attribute Tara's behavior to exam stress, desperately clinging to the hope that it was a passing phase. But deep down, a gnawing doubt lingered, as if an invisible force was eroding the foundation of their relationship. It was a silent ache that chipped away at her sense of security, whispering the possibility of something more significant beneath the surface.

With a heavy sigh, (Y/n) wrestled with her conflicted thoughts, battling between wanting to confront the issue head-on and fearing the answers that lay beyond. As tears streaked down her cheeks, she realized that the movie night had symbolized more than just a chance to unwind—it had become a symbol of the dwindling connection she desperately longed to reignite.

In the midst of her turmoil, the sadness transformed to rage.

(Y/n):

Seriously tar

(Y/n):

Istg we’ve been planning this night for months now

(Y/n):

I seriously need you right now, we haven’t hung out in so long and you want to cancel on me

Determined to break the silence and confront the anguish that consumed her, (Y/n) resolved to make Tara fully aware of the pain she was inflicting. She refused to suffer in the darkness any longer, vowing to express the depth of her emotions and lay bare the impact of Tara's actions on their relationship.

With bated breath, (Y/n) watched the notification indicating that Tara had read her text. Her eyes fixated on the screen, heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and anticipation, as she anxiously awaited the telltale signs of Tara's response. The seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity, every passing moment fueling her need for a reply, a sign that their connection still held a glimmer of hope.

Tara:

I’m sorry but ambers been having a bad day

In an explosion of fiery emotions, (Y/n)'s anger consumed her. The realization that Tara had prioritized a friend's well-being over her own girlfriend's struck a nerve deep within her. How could Tara fail to show even a shred of concern for what (Y/n) had endured throughout the week? The flames of resentment burned brightly, fueled by the perception that Tara lacked the basic decency to make an effort to understand and support her partner. (Y/n) yearned for acknowledgment, for Tara to see the depth of her pain and recognize the importance of their connection.

With each passing second, the fire within (Y/n) raged on, threatening to consume everything in its path. The time for silence and complacency was over. (Y/n) vowed to confront Tara, to unleash the inferno of her feelings and demand the respect and consideration she deserved.

(Y/n):

What about your own fucking girlfriend huh?

(Y/n):

Do you even know what the fuck happened to me this week!

(Y/n):

No you don’t, because it’s always Amber this, Amber that, Amber Amber Amber

Tara:

R u being serious rn

(Y/n):

my dog died on Monday

(Y/n):

it’s Saturday Tara

(Y/n):

and you didn’t even know because you aren’t even talking to me anymore.

(Y/n) let out a heavy sigh, frustration and hurt weighing heavily on her shoulders. She tossed her phone onto the couch, its screen illuminating the room for a moment before sinking into the soft cushions. She buried her head in her hands, seeking solace in the darkness, hoping that this act of vulnerability would finally make Tara realize the profound impact of her actions.

As (Y/n)'s fingers interlaced, a subtle vibration traveled through the cushions beside her. Startled, she lifted her head and turned her gaze toward the source of the unexpected movement. A flicker of hope sparked within her, wondering if perhaps Tara had sensed the gravity of the situation and was reaching out in response.

With a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, (Y/n) reached for her phone, hoping to find a message from Tara that would acknowledge the pain she had caused and signal a willingness to address the underlying issues.

Tara:

Milos dead?

As tears streamed down her face, (Y/n)'s heart sank deeper into despair. The painful truth hit her with a forceful blow—Tara hadn't even acknowledged her feelings, let alone shown remorse for the hurt she had caused. In that moment, (Y/n) realized the difficult decision she needed to make.

Her fingers trembled as she wiped away the tears, a newfound determination taking root within her. It became clear that she couldn't continue in a relationship where her needs went unacknowledged and her emotions were dismissed. (Y/n) understood that she deserved someone who would put in the effort, who would cherish and respect her.

With a heavy yet resolute sigh, (Y/n) made up her mind. She would give Tara the space to figure herself out, to confront her own shortcomings and decide if she was willing to put in the effort required to mend their fractured bond. (Y/n) knew that she deserved a partner who would meet her halfway, who would prioritize their love and demonstrate genuine care.

As she made this decision, a bittersweet sense of liberation washed over (Y/n). It was a painful realization, but also a necessary one. She was prepared to step back, to let Tara find her own way, and to focus on healing herself in the process. With newfound clarity, she resolved to no longer tolerate being taken for granted.

(Y/n):

Tara I think we should take a break

Tara:

WHAT

Tara:

(Y/n) you can’t be serious

Tara:

We need to talk about this in person

Tara:

Come over I’ve told Amber to stay home

(Y/n):

we’ll talk on monday

With a heavy sigh, (Y/n) flipped her phone over and gently placed it back on the couch cushion. The persistent buzzing continued for a couple of minutes before gradually fading into silence. As she sat cross-legged on the floor, her gaze fixated on the plain wall before her, her mind swirled with a mixture of emotions.

In an effort to divert her thoughts, (Y/n) decided to immerse herself in a familiar and comforting activity. Rising from the floor, she made her way to the kitchen with determined steps. As she gathered the ingredients for baking cookies, the room filled with the sweet and nostalgic aroma that enveloped her senses.

With each measured scoop and gentle mix, (Y/n) found solace in the rhythmic process of creating something warm and inviting. The familiar motions of baking temporarily transported her to cherished memories of love and comfort, memories intertwined with moments shared with Tara. It was bittersweet, a reminder of the love they had once shared and the warmth that had brought them together.

As the cookies began to bake, filling the air with an irresistible scent, (Y/n) couldn't help but be caught in a swirl of conflicting emotions. The aroma wrapped around her, providing a temporary respite from the pain and uncertainty. Yet, within that comforting scent, lay memories of the love and connection she and Tara had once shared. It was a bittersweet reminder of what they had lost, but also a glimmer of the love that still lingered in her heart.

As (Y/n) carefully laid the freshly baked cookie onto the cooling rack, her mind drifted into a melodic trance. Humming a tune that played on repeat in her head, she found solace in the rhythmic melody. Lost in the sweet moment, her worries momentarily faded away.

However, her blissful reverie was abruptly interrupted by the persistent buzzing of her phone. Buzz, buzz, buzz. The sound echoed through the room, piercing the tranquility she had cultivated. (Y/n) let out a weary sigh, wondering what urgent message or notification could demand her attention at this moment.

Her playful imagination offered a lighthearted explanation, imagining that Mindy must be spamming her with updates about a newly announced horror movie. The thought brought a small giggle to her lips, a brief respite from the emotional heaviness that weighed upon her.

Curiosity piqued, (Y/n) reached for her phone, eager to discover the nature of the buzzes that had disrupted her peaceful interlude. With a mix of anticipation and amusement, she unlocked the screen, preparing herself for the unexpected and hoping for a welcome distraction from her swirling emotions.

Tara:

there’s some psycho calling me

Tara:

I answered an unknown number they know my name

Tara:

Shit

Tara:

I’ve locked my doors

Tara:

Please come over asap

Tara:

i can’t leave cars with my mom

Tara:

He’s fucking calling again

Tara:

Ambers acting weird

Tara:

False alarm maybe?

Tara:

She’s telling me to answer it

Tara:

(Y/n) seriously get your ass over here, the creeps using her phone, they knew when the landline was ringing

Tara:

I’m seriously freaking out right now

(Y/n)'s body went rigid with a chilling dread as the series of alarming texts from Tara unfolded before her eyes. Panic surged through her veins, and she knew she had to act swiftly. With a sense of urgency, she scrambled to put on her shoes, her fingers trembling as she hastily laced them up.

Her mind raced, consumed by a growing sense of unease. The cryptic messages from Tara painted a haunting picture of a dangerous situation unfolding. (Y/n)'s heart pounded, propelled by both fear for Tara's safety and a desperate need to unravel the mystery that now threatened them.

She frantically searched the couch cushions, her hands darting between the crevices, determined to find the misplaced car keys that held the key to her escape. Time seemed to slip through her fingers, each passing second amplifying the urgency of the situation.

Finally, her fingers closed around the cool metal of the car keys, and a flicker of hope ignited within her. With a gasp of relief, she pulled them free, clutching them tightly in her trembling hand. There was no time to waste.

(Y/n) dashed toward the door, her heart racing like a drumbeat of adrenaline. The gravity of Tara's messages resonated within her, spurring her forward with unwavering determination. She needed to reach Tara's side, to offer comfort, protection, and an unwavering presence in the face of their shared fear.

Sitting in the front seat of her car, (Y/n)'s hands trembled as she realized the urgency of letting Tara know she was on her way to help. With swift determination, she typed out a message,

(Y/n):

Omw gimme 5 mins I’ll call cops otw

Before she could even start the engine Tara had replied

Tara:

Hurry

Amber:

ANSWER THE PHONE OR AMBER DIES

Tara's heart raced as she sprinted towards the ringing landline, a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Every fiber of her being was driven by the desperate need to save her friend from whatever horrors were lurking on the other end of the line. She knew her girlfriend, was already on her way, determined to reach her side as quickly as humanly possible, speeding down the suburban streets, driven by an urgent need to make the ten-minute drive shorter.

With trembling hands, Tara snatched the receiver from its cradle, her voice filled with anger and defiance as she spoke into the phone, “This isn’t fucking funny Amber!”

The voice that emanated from the other end of the line sent a chill down Tara's spine. It was a voice shrouded in mystery, draped in a tone that seemed to drip with a malevolent aura. It held an eerie calmness, devoid of any warmth or humanity, as if it existed solely to strike fear into her heart.

As the words, “I told you, this isn’t Amber,”resonated through the receiver, the voice carried a bone-chilling quality. It was a voice that sent a shiver racing down Tara's back, conjuring images of hidden dangers and unseen terrors. There was an unsettling cadence to the voice, a calculated rhythm that left no doubt that it was intended to provoke fear and uncertainty.

Tara's immediate internal fear intensified in response. The realization that the voice on the other end of the line was not who she initially assumed filled her with a sense of dread. It was a realization that shattered any lingering hope of this being a mere misunderstanding or prank. Instead, it emphasized the presence of an unknown figure, one with malicious intentions and a voice that resonated with a menacing power.

In that moment, Tara's fear became palpable, her instincts urging her to take caution and be on guard.

Tara's heart skipped a beat as a message flashed across her phone screen. Her trembling hands reached for the device, and with a mixture of curiosity and dread, she opened the message. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she watched the video that unfolded before her.

Amber, caught in an intimate moment, unaware of the malevolent presence that lurked just outside her bedroom window. The chilling voice that narrated the video through the crackling receiver broke the silence, dripping with a sarcastic tone that sent a shiver down Tara's spine.

As the video played, Tara's breath hitched, her mind reeling with the realization that Amber’s phone had been cloned. How long had she been talking to this unknown psycho for? She felt exposed, vulnerable, and at the mercy of an unknown adversary who had found a way to infiltrate her most personal moments.

“What do you want?” Tara quivered, unsure of what the voice wanted from her.

“I told you, I want to play a game,”

“Stab movie trivia,”

The malevolent figure had known she didn’t know anything about the Stab franchise, just moments before, she had confessed to only watching the first movie—and even then, it was at a sleepover six years ago—Tara felt a wave of panic wash over her as the weight of her predicament settled in her chest. The options before her seemed daunting: she could reach out to the authorities, but the looming threat of immediate harm or worse, death, loomed over her. The malevolent figure had made it clear that any wrong move, any misstep, would have dire consequences for Amber.

Her mind raced, desperately searching for a way out of this nightmarish scenario. She felt the weight of the Stab franchise's intricate details and plot twists bearing down on her, her limited knowledge leaving her vulnerable to the malevolent figure's sadistic game. The questions that awaited her were poised like traps, ready to ensnare her and seal Amber's tragic fate.

“Question one, who wrote the original books that the Stab movies are based on?”

Tara's mind raced as she desperately tried to recollect her memories. A book? The details were hazy, fading remnants of a distant recollection. She racked her brain, grasping for any shred of information that could help her in this dire situation. In a moment of clarity, a name burst forth from the depths of her memory.

"Th-the chick from TV," she stammered, her voice quivering. "Oh, Gale Weathers! It's Gale Weathers, you motherfucker!"

A chilling silence hung in the air, interrupted only by the masked figure's sinister chuckle. "Correct," the voice responded, dripping with a perverse satisfaction. "Amber might live to see the sunrise."

“Question two, who played the dumb bitch in the beginning of Stab one, who answers the phone and gets carved up by the killer?”

Tara’s hands quivered, the voice speaking almost mockingly to her situation, she never thought such an innocent phone call would end up like this, “fuck you!” She whispered quietly.

“Is that the answer you’re going with?”

Tara's sobs escaped her lips, a mixture of fear and frustration enveloping her. Time was slipping away, and the pressure to find the answer mounted with each tick of the taunting noises in the background. Desperation fueled her actions as she hastily pulled out her phone, fingers trembling as she searched for the cast list of Stab.

The voice on the other end of the line relished in her panic, using the ticking noises to remind her of the ever-dwindling seconds. Tara's eyes darted across the screen, her fingers swiping frantically, searching for that one crucial detail she needed. Where was it? The pressure weighed heavily upon her, pushing her to the brink.

"Heather Graham!" she blurted out, her voice quivering with a mix of uncertainty and hope. It was the answer that had come to mind, a name she hoped was associated with the first Stab movie. In that fleeting moment, she clung to the belief that her response was correct, that it would be enough to keep Amber safe.

A pause hung in the air, the voice on the other end relishing in the suspense. Then, a response echoed through the phone line. "Correct," the voice acknowledged, a sinister satisfaction lacing its tone. "Now, the final question: Who was the killer in Stab one?"

Tara almost sighed in relief, her voice laced with a mix of distress and defiance. "Oh, I know this one, you fuck!" Her words carried a defiant edge, fueled by a surge of determination. With a swallowed gulp, she didn't hesitate to provide her answer. "It's Billy Loomis! He's Sidney's boyfriend, and he was played by Luke Wilson. I've got you, asshole!"

An air of relief and triumph began to creep into Tara's voice, ready to celebrate her victory over the voice that had tormented her. She was certain of her answer, convinced that she had outsmarted the sinister figure on the other end of the line. "I've got it!"

A chilling silence hung in the air before the voice delivered a shocking response. "Oh, I'm sorry, Tara, but that's just not correct."

Tara's look of relief crumbled, replaced by a mix of confusion and growing concern. Doubt gnawed at her as she attempted to double-check her answer, her fingers frantically navigating through her phone. How could she have been so wrong? Billy Loomis was the killer, wasn't he?

"The correct answer is Billy Loomis and Stu Macher," the voice coldly explained, reveling in its control over the situation. "There are two killers in the original Stab. I'm afraid someone's gotta die now."

With a surge of adrenaline, Tara rushed towards the front door, her sole focus on saving Amber's life. Her trembling hands fumbled with the lock, desperately trying to unlock it and swing the door open. As the door swung wide, her path was abruptly blocked by a figure standing in the doorway, clad in the iconic Stab Ghostface costume. The sight sent chills down her spine.

In the intruder's hand gleamed a knife, its blade poised for attack, slashing at her side. Fear coursed through Tara's veins, but she refused to let it paralyze her. Summoning her courage, she lashed out, delivering a powerful punch aimed at the intruder's face. The blow momentarily stunned the masked figure, giving Tara a brief moment of respite.

Seizing the opportunity, she pushed against the door with all her might, attempting to shut it on the intruder. A grunt escaped her lips as she exerted every ounce of strength, her body pressed against the door. However, the relentless assailant's gloved hand snaked through the narrowing crack, the glint of a hunter knife threateningly waving in the air.

With a final burst of effort, Tara managed to force the intruder out and swiftly locked the door from the inside. Trembling and gasping for breath, she clutched at her pouring wound, tears streaming down her face in hysterics. Despite the pain and fear overwhelming her, she managed to summon the presence of mind to activate the home security system, a desperate attempt to fortify herself against any further intrusion.

The deafening bangs against the front door reverberated through the house, each thud echoing with a bone-chilling intensity. Tara clutched a knife tightly in her trembling hands, attempting to assert some form of control. She threatened the intruder with the arrival of the police, hoping to deter them. Yet, as abruptly as the banging started, it ceased, leaving the house shrouded in an eerie silence.

Tara cautiously backed away from the door, her gaze fixed on it, her senses on high alert. The wound on her side throbbed with pain, each heartbeat a painful reminder of her vulnerability. The momentary respite was disrupted by a loud noise emanating from her phone.

ALL SYSTEMS DISARMED.

Fear gripped her heart as she realized the intruder had tampered with the security system. With a desperate rush, she quickly accessed the app, her fingers trembling as she frantically locked the doors once again.

SYSTEMS ARMED.

The repeating cycle of the security system continued, amplifying the tension that hung in the air. Tara's mind raced as she tried to regain control, her wounded body screaming with each movement. She tapped on the lock button in a frenzied frenzy, desperately hoping to deny the intruder any chance of entry.

But the unrelenting repetition of the words continued, mocking her efforts.

ALL SYSTEMS DISARMED.

Tara's fear escalated, her voice choked with terror as she attempted to shout for help. Yet, no words escaped her lips, only hoarse noises of distress. Her movements became erratic, each pause prolonging the time it took to secure the locks.

SYSTEMS ARMED.

ALL SYSTEMS DISARMED.

SYSTEMS ARMED.

The relentless cycle of the security system added to the mounting tension, amplifying the sense of impending danger. Tara's breaths grew ragged as she slowly backed into the kitchen, her gaze never straying from the front door.

The piercing ring of the landline shattered the silence once again, sending a surge of fear coursing through Tara's veins. Her scream of terror echoed through the house as she hit her back against the wall, tears streaming down her cheeks like a torrent. With hesitant steps, she moved toward the ringing phone, each movement laden with trepidation.

"Hello?"

"Bonus Question, Tara!"

Tara's plea fell on deaf ears as the voice on the other end continued with sadistic glee. Her body curled inward, overcome by fear. She couldn't bear the torment any longer. Her thoughts raced to (Y/n), praying for her swift arrival. Tara wished she would come sooner, but deep down, she hoped the police would arrive first, shielding her from harm. In that moment, Tara realised she couldn't bear the thought of (Y/n) getting hurt. If she made it out alive, she vowed to never let her go again.

"Do you think I made it inside your house before you could rearm?"

An icy arm coiled around Tara's trembling torso, pulling her forcefully against a chilling presence. The killer's other hand, wielding the gleaming blade, plunged mercilessly into her gut. Agonized screams tore from Tara's throat as the knife was wrenched out, leaving a trail of crimson in its wake. Fighting against the searing pain, she managed to push herself away from her assailant, her front colliding with the cold, unforgiving countertop.

Summoning a surge of determination, Tara spun around with a sudden backhand, striking the killer with a burst of defiance. But her resistance was short-lived as a vice-like grip seized her hair, wrenching her down onto the unforgiving hardwood floor. The impact jarred her senses, leaving her disoriented and vulnerable, face pressed into the unyielding surface.

Desperation fueled her every movement as Tara attempted to kick away her attacker, her hopes of escape crushed under the brutal force of a stomping boot. The sickening crack of bone echoed through the air, intertwining with Tara's anguished screams. Her ankle mangled and shattered, rendering her attempts at resistance futile.

The killer, relentless in their pursuit, sought to position Tara for a final, fatal blow. But she refused to succumb without a fight. Summoning every ounce of strength, she raised her trembling hand in a desperate bid for defense. The blade tore through her flesh, eliciting a surge of searing pain, yet she persisted. Pushing against the blade with an agonizing determination, her blood mingling with the tears streaming down her face.

A fleeting moment of distraction granted Tara a brief respite. Seizing the opportunity, she mustered her remaining strength and launched a fierce kick at her tormentor. The force sent them hurtling backward, colliding violently with the kitchen island. Tara, lying prone on her stomach, dragged herself across the floor, a crimson trail left in her wake, intermingled with her anguished sobs.

The killer, slowly rising to their feet, taunted her with sadistic amusement. Their presence shadowed her every move as she struggled towards the distant patio doors, the faint wail of sirens growing louder. But her desperate escape was cut short as they viciously seized her ankles, yanking her back into their clutches. With chilling precision, they struck her back twice, puncturing her with each merciless stab.

A crimson halo enveloped Tara, her strength waning, yet she fought against the encroaching darkness. The killer spun her around, their malevolence masked by the reflection of red and blue police lights bouncing off their plastic Ghostface facade. As the world blurred and her life hung in the balance, a final cry reverberated through the night, a desperate plea for salvation.

“TARA!”

When (Y/n) burst through the front door, her heart sank at the sight of Tara's bloodied body sprawled across the floor. Ignoring the fading smudge of black, her focus was solely on Tara's well-being. She rushed over, cradling Tara's unconscious form against her chest, an instinctual need to protect taking over. If only she had come over as planned, if only she hadn't let jealousy cloud her judgment about Tara's friendship with Amber. (Y/n)'s tears streamed down her face as she held Tara's good hand, pressing gentle kisses to its back. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice laced with regret.

To her astonishment, Tara's hand weakly squeezed back, a glimmer of hope amidst the despair. (Y/n)'s touch shifted to cup Tara's blood-stained cheek, her eyes filled with concern. "Just hold on, darling. The ambulance is right outside," she reassured, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and determination. The sound of approaching footsteps alerted (Y/n) to the presence of others in the house, as people hurried into the kitchen, acknowledging the need for immediate medical assistance.

Tara was swiftly transferred to a waiting stretcher, (Y/n) steadfastly refusing to let go of her limp hand. A paramedic approached, inquiring about their relationship. (Y/n)'s voice trembled as she pleaded, tears streaming down her face, "I'm her girlfriend. Please, let me go with her. I can't leave her alone again." The paramedic nodded sympathetically, granting her request. "Go ahead," they said, understanding the depth of (Y/n)'s anguish.

With a mixture of hope and trepidation, (Y/n) followed Tara into the ambulance, her grip on her girlfriend's hand unyielding.

The ride to the hospital seemed like a hazy dream, (Y/n)'s mind clouded with worry and guilt. Tara remained unconscious, her pale face framed by the sterile hospital lights. The paramedics worked diligently, tending to her wounds with professional efficiency. (Y/n)'s gaze never wavered from Tara's face, her eyes searching desperately for any flicker of awareness. She wanted Tara to know that she was there, that she would never leave her side, even if the hospital staff tried to force her out.

The sight of Tara in the hospital bed, connected to various monitors and IV drips, filled (Y/n)'s heart with a mix of anguish and determination. This could have been prevented if only she had been there with her girlfriend. Now, Tara lay covered in gauze and dissolvable stitches, a stark reminder of the violence she had endured. (Y/n) vowed silently to be her rock, to support her through every step of the recovery process.

As the hospital staff continued their work, (Y/n) gently held Tara's hand, offering a silent reassurance in her touch. She whispered words of love and encouragement, hoping that somewhere within the depths of Tara's unconsciousness, her presence would be felt. The beeping machines and sterile hospital environment faded into the background as (Y/n)'s focus remained solely on Tara, her unwavering devotion shining through her eyes.

(Y/n)'s thoughts swirled with conflicting emotions as she sat by Tara's side in the hospital room. The urge to reach out to their friends and inform them about what had happened tugged at her, but a part of her hesitated. Almost selfishly, she wanted this moment to be just between her and Tara. She wanted Tara to wake up and find solace in her presence, to see the remorse and love etched in every fiber of her being.

Clutching Tara's hand tightly, (Y/n)'s eyes never left her girlfriend's face. She longed for Tara to open her eyes, to see the love and dedication shining through her gaze. It was important for (Y/n) to express her deepest apologies, to make sure Tara understood that she would never abandon her, no matter what. She needed Tara to know the depths of her love and commitment, to feel the unwavering support and presence by her side.

Growing weary, (Y/n) felt herself slipping into the realm of dreams, her grip on Tara's hand never faltering. But just as she began to drift away, a voice reached her ears, pulling her back to consciousness. With a sudden squeeze of her hand, Tara's touch broke through the veil of sleep. (Y/n)'s eyes shot open, wide with surprise and relief. There was Tara, sitting up in her hospital bed, her disheveled hair tied back, her eyes red and weary, and yet her presence was a beacon of beauty and strength.

Tears welled up in (Y/n)'s eyes, streaming down her cheeks like an unstoppable cascade. It was as if a dam had burst within her, releasing all the pent-up emotions she had been holding onto. Tara's loving gaze quickly shifted to concern at the sight of (Y/n)'s tears. "What's wrong? Please don't cry," Tara's voice, raspy from the ordeal, carried that familiar softness and affectionate tone that (Y/n) had longed to hear.

Through her tear-strained voice, (Y/n) choked out her words, unable to contain the overwhelming remorse and love she felt. "Tara, I'm so fucking sorry. I should have just come over, I should have been there for you-" Her words trailed off, interrupted by the weight of her guilt.

Tara's expression softened, a tender smile gracing her lips. "Hey, hey, it's okay," she reassured, her voice filled with warmth and understanding. "None of this was your fault. I know you would have been here if you could. What matters now is that you're here with me, and I love you.”

Tara scooted to the edge of the hospital bed, patting the space beside her, an invitation for (Y/n) to join her. The desire for comfort and solace radiated from Tara's eyes, a silent plea for the warmth of her girlfriend's embrace after the harrowing ordeal they had both endured. (Y/n) hesitated for a moment, mindful of Tara's injuries, but the need for their souls to intertwine and find solace in each other's presence outweighed any physical discomfort. Gingerly, she laid down beside Tara, careful to support herself and cradle Tara's head in her arms.

Nuzzling her nose into Tara's hair, (Y/n) whispered with a voice filled with love and longing, "I missed you." The words carried the weight of their shared experiences and the depth of their connection. In that tender moment, they sought solace in each other's embrace, finding strength and healing in their love.

Tara shifted slightly, snuggling closer to (Y/n)'s chest, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. The rise and fall of each other's breaths created a rhythm that matched their heartbeat, a synchrony of love and reassurance. (Y/n) pressed gentle kisses to the top of Tara's head, conveying the depth of her affection and the promise of unwavering support.

As they lay there, entwined in each other's arms, the world outside the hospital room faded away.

“I missed you too”

Act 5

(Amber Freeman x fem! reader)

Summary: After joining a discord server, you meet a girl... Warnings: (+18), smut, oral, fingering, blood, violence, injuries, characters are 18+ (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

As far as you could remember, you had always been a horror movie fan. Halloween, Friday the 13th, Saw, The exorcist, Stab... you enjoyed watching these movies. Recently, you had even joined a discord server for Stab fans.

It was really fun talking about these movies with people you knew liked them as much as you did, and it felt nice sharing your passion with others.

There were only two rules in this server: 1. If you were to make video calls, you would all wear Ghostface costumes and masks; and 2. Never, under any circumstances, say your name.

At first you thought that was weird, but it was a matter of safety. Stab fans were considered crazy after what happened in 2011 -and other side events.

Keeping your identity secret had become a must, if you didn't want other people online to hate on you and/or accuse you of crimes.

Fortunately, in the server, no one seemed to have a problem with the rules. And neither did you.

Until that day.

There was this girl on the server, with who you had been talking to in private for some months now. You may or may not had developed a little crush on her.

She was so nice, and it was so easy talking to her. You had the same opinion about almost everything too. But you didn't tell her. What if she thinks I'm weird? you thought.

You were currently on call with her, and the fact that you lived in Woodsboro just slipped.

"Wait- you live in Woodsboro? Me too! Maybe we know each other? What about we meet in real life?"

"I- We're not supposed to do that... Remember the rules? No personal information, so identity reveal or whatever..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But you trust me, right? 'Cause I know I can trust you"

"Of course I- I trust you but-"

"Well if we both trust each other, why not meet? It's better talking face to face, don't you think? Plus I'm dying to see what you look like. I'm sure you're super pretty"

You blushed at her words, and stuttered a quiet ‘okay’.

Two hours later, you were waiting in front of the high school, nervous. What if she didn’t like you irl? What if it was awkward? What if-

"Y/n?"

You turned around as you heard your name.

"Amber…?"

You couldn’t help but stare at her. She was gorgeous. The most beautiful girl you had ever seen.

"It’s so nice to finally meet you!" she started "And I was right; you’re really pretty"

You spent the whole day chatting and laughing together. There was definitely chemistry between you too.

"That’s my house" you said softly

You were a little sad your time with her was already over, you wanted make it last more.

"Oh, okay… We’ll meet again, right?"

"Yeah, of course! I’d love to!"

You smiled at each other, and waved goodbye, before you started making your way to the door. But you couldn’t just go like that.

"Amber I-" you started as you turned around

Before you could finish your sentence, her lips were in yours, soft against your own. It took you a second to register what was going on, but soon you were kissing back.

Amber pulled away after a moment. Her lips were inches away from yours, her eyes not leaving your own. Then she leans in for another kiss, more passionate.

Her hands were on your waist, keeping you close, as her tongue slipped past your lips. You made for a while, before running out of air.

When you pulled away, you could see that her lips were red and swollen, and so were yours.

"Maybe we should continue this inside, hm?" Amber said with a light smirk

You blushed and nodded, before trying to open the door. Your hands were shaking a bit in excitement, and Amber being flush against your back, arms around your waist and kissing your neck didn’t help.

Eventually you managed to open the door, and as soon as you closed it behind you both, you got pinned against it, Amber’s lips back on yours.

As the kiss grew more and more feverish, you felt her cold hands sneak under your shirt, and going up to your ribs, stopping right under your breasts.

"Is this okay?" she ask in between kisses

"Yes" you hummed in response

You could feel her smile against your lips as you let out a moan when she groped your tits through your bra. Then, her lips dipped to your neck as her hands made their way under your bra.

Before she could go any farther, you pushed her slightly away.

"Wait- let's go to my room"

You grabbed her hand and led her to your bedroom.

As soon as you were in the room, she reached down for your shirt and took it off you before unclasping your bra and pushing you on your bed. She straddled you, and started to undo her belt with a smirk.

She grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, before tying them to the headboard with her belt, making sure it's not too tight.

Then, she sat up and looked down at you, biting her lip.

"Look at you; so pretty all tied up under me..." she whispered, brushing your cheek softly

She leaned in to kiss you once more, her hands sliding down to unbutton your jeans, before going back up to play with your now hard nipples. Again, her lips dipped down to your neck, where she sucked angry red marks.

This, and your nipples being rolled between her fingers made a series of moans leave your throat. You wanted to run a hand through her hair, but with her belt around your wrists, you couldn't move at all -which turned you on even more.

Your eyes flutter closed when you felt her lips wrapping around one of your nipples, and her tongue running over it, before she started sucking gently.

Your back arched slightly as you moaned her name, encouraging her to continue.

After a moment, she released your nipple with a 'pop'. You looked down just in time to see a string of saliva linking her mouth and your hard bud.

She smirked and kissed her way down your body, taking off your pants slowly, her eyes never leaving yours. She took her time, kissing the inside of your thighs, slowly getting closer to where you needed her the most.

You whined at the tease and rolled your hips slightly.

"Amber... please..."

"Please what, baby?" she teased more, sly smirk spread on her face

"Please I need you so bad... please fuck me..."

"How can I say no if you ask so nicely?" she hummed, sliding your underwear down your legs and throwing it somewhere in the room

She looked down at your dripping cunt with a hungry gaze and licked her lips before diving in to get a taste of you.

She hummed against you, loving the way you tasted on her tongue. She hooked her arms around your thighs, keeping you in place while she ate you out.

Her tongue was driving you crazy, you were a moaning mess, and felt you wear already close to the edge. But all of a sudden, she stopped.

You let out a frustrated whine at the sudden loss of contact and pleasure, before she placed her index on your lips.

"Shhh... Don't worry, I'm not done with you"

She quickly replaced her index with her middle and ring finger, which she pushed into your mouth gently.

"Now be a good girl and get my fingers wet"

You complied, and once she was satisfied, pulled her fingers out of your mouth to slide them into your pussy, eliciting another moan from you, before starting to thrust in and out at a fast pace.

If you thought her tongue was skilled, her fingers were even more. She hit all the right spots and curled her fingers just right.

You were so overwhelmed with the pleasure that you couldn't even form a coherent sentence. But she didn't need you to say it to know you were close; she could feel you tighten around her fingers in the most pleasant way possible.

She stopped marking your soft skin and brought her other hand to your throat, squeezing slightly, while her thumb was circling your clit in rhythm with her thrusts.

"Cum all over my fingers, don't hold back"

You came hard, in a white blur, seeing stars as your orgasm crashed in.

Amber continued to fuck you through your high, watching you with a lustful look in her eyes. She had waited so long for that. She had dreamt of it so many times, and now you were truly hers, looking oh so pretty coming undone under her.

When she pulled away, you had recovered enough to see her shove her fingers in her mouth and lick them clean, before leaning in to kiss you lovingly and untying your hands.

"Ready for round 2?" she asked with a smirk

"Fuck yeah" you replied, already taking off her shirt

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

It had been almost a year since Amber and you were together, and only a few months since Stab 8 was released. Let's just say that you were thrilled to go to the movies together, and that you were terribly disappointed.

You both thought the movie was terrible.

"What are you doing?" you asked gently as you rolled over to your girlfriend, who was scribbling on a paper at the other end of her bed

"I was thinking... Maybe we could do our own Stab movie? Or at least do things to give the producers better ideas. What do you think?"

"What do you have in mind?"

She gave you a slight smirk as she turned to you and exposed her plan.

"So let me get this straight; you want to kill your friend to force her sister -the daughter of Billy Loomis- to come back here, and then kill everybody and blame it on her?"

"That's the idea" she replied, visibly excited "Are you in?"

You sighed and shook your head.

"What wouldn't I do for you, huh?" you smiled and cupped her cheeks to place a soft kiss on her lips "Are you sure we have to kill Tara though? She's my favorite out of all your friends... And if she dies her sister won't necessarily come back"

"You're right! So we just attack her then. Or I just attack her, I don't want to force you into hurting/killing people. I'll do the killing, and you'll make the calls if you want" she offered

"I don't want to let you do all the dirty stuff..."

"Don't worry about that, baby"

She smiled and kissed you again, this time pushing you into the mattress, unbuttoning your jeans and slipping a hand into your underwear with a smirk.

"I don't mind doing the dirty stuff"

Surprisingly, so far, everything went as planned; Amber attacked Tara, her sister cam back to Woodsboro, and the killing spree was continuing. The only thing that wasn't planned on was Sam's boyfriend, but he was just another pawn to kill.

"You ready babe?" Amber asked, adjusting her mask "I kill Judy and Wes, and then I'll go to the hospital to attack Tara and you"

"Don't forget to slash my arm -not too hard if possible!"

You helped her, and pressed your lips at the top of the black mouth of the Ghostface mask as a good luck kiss.

Once again, nothing went wrong. Until the moment where Amber was supposed to slash your arm.

When Tara saw Ghostface behind you, you turned around, just as planned, and lifted your arms up to 'protect' yourself. But instead of feeling the blade on your arm, you felt it sink in your stomach.

Your eyes widened, and you tried to kick her away, a hand on your wound to stop the bleeding.

Why did she do that? you thought, grabbing Tara's wheelchair to head to the elevator. That's not the plan!

Before you could reach it, you got thrown into the nearest wall, hitting your head hard against it.

The shock had the world spinning around you; you struggled to stand properly.

Ghostface took that opportunity to make Tara fall of her wheelchair and was ready to stab her when Sam and Dewey arrived.

You were waiting for Amber to come to the hospital after a nurse called her to warn her you had been hurt. You had so many questions.

When she finally arrived, she looked concerned, worried. She wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug.

"What happened?" she asked

"I don't know, you tell me. You were supposed to slash my arm, not stab me in the stomach...!" you whisper-shouted

"It wasn't me, Y/n..."

You blinked, and pulled away to look at her, confused.

"Fuck you mean it wasn't you...?"

"I couldn't make it to the hospital in time, my car broke down... I never would've hurt you baby..."

She hugged you tighter after saying this.

"If it wasn't you... there's another Ghostface in town..." you whispered

"That's a bad thing for our plan..."

"Not necessarily... If they get caught, we can get away with the previous killings. The police will think they did it too... And we'll be out of suspicions!"

"Yeah but what about our big finale...?"

"Well have to pass on that, I'm sorry my love... But think about it, we'll be the first Ghostface to have survived!"

"You're right baby, both of us living is better than having our ending"

She smile and placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Who do you think it is?"

"Hm... It can't be Tara, that's for sure. I don't it's Sam either, or Chad"

"So that leaves Mindy and Liv..."

"And Sam's boyfriend, don't forget about him"

"You’re right, I don’t like him. He didn’t give me a good vibe"

You nod at her words.

"What do we do now? Do we still throw the party?"

"Yeah. If the other Ghostface is a Stab fan too, he’d never miss the occasion to recreate the og party in Stu Macher’s house"

Amber drove you to her house and you both got ready for the party. You had already stolen Tara's spare inhaler when you were in her room before being attacked, so you were sure she would come to Amber's.

And as expected, half an hour after the party begun, Sam, Richie and her came. Your girlfriend dismissed everyone else, and led Tara upstairs to look for her inhaler, leaving you with Sam and Richie.

Mindy was in the living-room, you heard her talk to Liv a few minutes ago, and Chad should be near too.

Sam received a phone call, and Richie walked towards the living-room. You decided to follow him, pretexting you had to rest.

"I'm gonna get some beer, anyone wanna come with me?" he asked after you sat next to Mindy

"No, but you were right to ask!" she replied, her eyes not leaving the tv screen

So he went to the basement alone while you stayed with Mindy watching Stab. When the scene of Randy being attacked arrived, you felt a shiver run down your spine.

While Mindy was busy screaming at Randy to turn around, you looked behind you, just in case.

Ghostface was behind Mindy, ready to stab her. You pulled her away from the knife right before she could get hurt badly, but her shoulder got slashed anyways.

You both screamed, hoping to get the others' attention while you tried to fight the killer. He managed to corner Mindy. You grabbed the lamp next to the sofa and slammed it on his head.

He didn't seem to like it, and punched you in the stomach, reopening your wound. You grunted in pain and pressed a hand on your bleeding stomach.

You were about to come at him again when Sam entered the room, scaring him away. You looked at each other and rush to Mindy, to make sure she was okay. She lost a lot of blood and passed out in Sam's arms.

A scream behind you made you jump. Amber and Tara just came downstairs. Sam opened her mouth to say something but got cut off by a sound of glass breaking; Richie was back, and just dropped his beers.

"Oh my god!" he said

"Where were you?" Sam asked him

"I was getting mor beer!"

"You went to the basement alone?" you girlfriend asked

"I asked them to come with me and they said no!" he replied, gesturing toward Mindy and you

"I was with Tara, and Y/n was with Mindy but the rest of you were wondering around. One of you is the fucking killer!" Amber spat

Liv suddenly barged into the room, looking panicked, hands covered in blood.

"Why is there blood on your hands?" Sam asked her

Liv looked down at her hands and seemed even more panicked.

"I- I found Chad..."

"Chad?"

"He's... he's..."

"You're the killer...!" Richie said

"No I-"

She looked at everyone in the room, seeking support, but neither of you knew if you could trust her.

"I'm not the fucking killer!" she finally yelled

"I know."

You all turned to Richie as he pulled out a gun and shot Liv in the head.

You felt someone grab your hand and drag you away as another gunshot resonated in the room. Amber pulled you upstairs, to her parents' room.

"Are you okay? God, you're bleeding again..."

She started looking for something to bandage you up with, but you stopped her.

"We don't have time, we need to kill him before he can do his speech about his motive, or he'll say that he didn't do the first killings..."

"But-"

"I'm okay, I promise" you reassured her "Let's just make it quick and I'll be fine"

She looked at you hesitantly for a second, before nodding and coming back next to you to place a soft kiss on your lips.

"What do we do now?" she asked

"Do you know where your dad hides his gun?"

Fortunately for the two of you, Sam stabbed Richie to death before he could say anything about another killer, after Amber shot him in the chest.

You made it to act 4, just like Jill Roberts 11 years ago. But you weren't going to screw everything up like she did, no.

And that's how you became the first Ghostface to get away with it, to make it to act 5.

From Twitter