all hers | tara carpenter x fem!reader

part 19

You ride with Sam to the police station.

What you thought would feel like a euphoric victory suddenly feels hollow.

There's two.

Of course. Why wouldn't there be? It was always two. And you'd just murdered someone's partner in crime, no doubt there would be retribution.

It feels different this time.

Wes had sent you spiraling, but Richie's death leaves you almost unperturbed.

He'd tried to kill Tara. Take her away from you.

And you'd given him exactly what he deserved. The justice he thought he was delivering to you.

It'd be scary, your nonchalance towards murder, if you didn't have much more pressing matters. Namely, your girlfriend sitting in a five by seven jail cell.

She's still in there when you arrive.

You can see her looking over at you through the bars.

She looks terrible. Dark circles under her eyes, messy, tufted hair. She's very the same clothes as she'd been brought in with and she's staring right back at you, something in her face akin to fury and relief all at once.

When they finally draw her through the doors she all but knocks you over in her flurry to get to you.

You gasp. She's tiny, but she lifts you off the ground with no qualms. Presses you down and kisses you, a little rough.

Then she drops you and rounds on Sam.

"What the hell were you thinking?" She snarls.

"I was thinking my baby sister is in jail and I needed to get her out." Sam answers, smoothly. She presses a hand to Tara's cheek, rubs at one of the circles under her eyes, "Are you okay?"

"No I'm not okay," Tara snaps, batting her hand away, "I gave you one job and you-"

"-Killed him," You interject. You draw her in closer, try and soothe her with a kiss, "It's okay, baby. We got him."

One of them, is what you should say, but Tara's so anxious you think it might send her right off the edge.

She looks over at you, look in her eyes frosty.

"Don't even get me started on you," She says, voice curt, "You're in so much trouble. If you think I'm letting you out of my sight ever again-"

"I was worried about you too, baby." You press a kiss to her hand, "Come on. Let's go home."

-

Sam drives.

Tara pulls you into the back seat with her, tugs you into her lap and pulls the belt around both of your bodies.

You would think she'd been gone six months and not six hours by the way she kisses you. Desperately. Needy. Her hands roam wildly, like her sister isn't in the front seat.

Sam clears her throat.

"Can you two not fuck in the back seat of my car?" She asks, "I just had the leather reupholstered."

It's a perfectly reasonable request, but Tara glares at her like she's just killed her puppy.

"How could you not know you were fucking Ghostface this entire time?" Tara asks, gripping your hips, "You brought him into our lives, Sam, Jesus."

You press your hands to Tara's face, smooth her dark hair back.

"Don't you think I know that?" Sam says, voice quiet.