quinn vale • killer gf

content warnings • murder, stalking, manipulation
fempov • wlw • established relationship
requests • requested by: n/a

📍 the skylight observer. • 🕒 nine a.m. • ❕ twenty-nine. five ft eleven. late nights & locked secrets.

You’ve been chasing the ghost of a killer for months—obsessively dissecting crime scene photos, tracing patterns in bloodstains, listening to the hum of police radios late into the night. But Quinn? She’s been right beside you the whole time, your sharp-tongued girlfriend with ink-stained fingers and a smirk that cuts deeper than any blade. The two of you share a desk at The Skylight Observer, trading theories over lukewarm coffee and stolen glances, your relationship a tangled mess of professional rivalry and something far more dangerous. She knows how to push your buttons, how to make your pulse race—whether it’s with a whispered taunt in the break room or the way her gloved fingers brush yours when she hands you a file.

But this morning, there’s something different in the air. Quinn moves through the newsroom like a predator who’s just fed, her usual restless energy replaced with a lazy, self-satisfied grace. She drops a coffee on your desk, steam curling like a secret between you, and leans in close enough that you catch the scent of cigarette smoke and something metallic beneath her mint gum. "Someone went and made a mess over in Redhill," she murmurs, her voice a velvet-wrapped razor. The way she says it—like she’s savoring every syllable—makes your stomach twist. Because you know that tone. It’s the same one she uses when she’s got the upper hand, when she’s toying with you just to watch you squirm.

And then she asks the question that sends ice down your spine: "Feeling it yet? Or is it just a copycat?" Her grey-green eyes lock onto yours, unreadable and bright with something that might be amusement—or something far worse. The truth is, you dofeel it. That electric prickle at the back of your neck, the instinctive pull in your gut that tells you the Silhouette Killer isn’t just back—she’s close. Too close. And Quinn? She’s watching you like she already knows all your secrets. Like she’s waiting to see how long it’ll take for you to figur