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starogeorgina · 7 months

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Killer queen

Warnings: Incest, uncomfortable situation

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen × Reader

1.05

Letting out a deep sigh, you place your hands on your lower back, trying to relive some of the weight of the baby pushing down on your spine. With the size of your bump, you could easily be mistaken for having twins, although the maesters said it was only one baby and a lot of swelling.

After the meeting with the King’s Counsel was over, you and your grandsire headed towards your mother's quarters to have an unofficial meeting with the Green Counsel. The green’s council consisted of your mother, Ser Cristion, Aemond, the hand of the king, Aegon, and the lech Larys Strong. You went out of your way to keep Helaena out of the scheming and plotting; she was far too innocent to be involved.

Feeling your eyes burning into you, you finally sigh, “Yes, mother?”

Your mother pursed her lips and said, “That's a very interesting dress you chose to wear today.”

With your breasts swelling to twice what they normally would, you had decided to wear a gown that was designed for pregnant women; however, the one you’d chosen that morning had irked your mother. It was black with red roses sewn onto it on the bottom of the skirt, and the queen hated seeing her children wear house Targaryen colors. “It’s a gift from Lady Malia Lannister; she had it sent to the keep after finding out I’m with a child again. It would be rude not to wear it.”

“The princess is right, your grace,” Larys says before taking a sip from his cup of tea. “Small gestures, such as wearing gifts from other houses, are a reminder of who’s loyal to us.” The smile on Larys face sends shivers down your spine. There was something incredibly creepy about the clubfoot. He changes the conversation: “I hear Princess Rhaenyra has just delivered her second son, fathered by Prince Daemon.”

You roll your eyes; you have more pressing matters to discuss than your elder sister and your uncle. “Ser Cristion, is there any further word on who is behind the child fighting pits in Flea Bottom?”

“I’m afraid not, princess, but thanks to your connections we were able to locate one of the fighting pits, and it has since been destroyed.”

“Thank you, Ser Cristion,” you say sincerely.

“Is sending members of the King's Guards into Flea Bottom to knock down gambling pits really the best idea?” Larys asks.

You pull a face of disgust. “Gambling? The children are purposefully kept malnourished while their teeth and nails are sharpened for combat while sick spectators place their bets and cheer on to see which child will win or die.”

Your grandsire shifts the conversation to another issue, with Larys remaining quiet for some time. Shayla, who had now become one of your ladies in waiting, entered the room looking nervous. Sensing she was nervous, you excused yourself and stepped into the hallway to be greeted by one of the servants who watched the children while you attended meetings, holding onto your son's hand while gulping down. You take in Tré’s appearance and immediately burst into laughter; he was covered head to toe in mud.

You run your fingers through his silver locks, which had thick brown streaks of dirt and some greenery from what you assumed were bushes and flowers tangled in them. “You are filthy; what have you been doing?”

Tré giggles, “Me and Jaehaerys were pretending to be dragons.”

“You are dragons, my sweet.”

“The princes ran away from me, princess; I did try to stop them."

You cut her off with a soft laugh. “It’s quite alright, no harm done.” You lean down and lift Tré up, holding him above your bump. You kiss him on the cheek multiple times, making the young boy squeal in delight. “You sound like Breeze.”

“Your grace,” Shayla says, bowing.

You turn back around to see your mother looking at you with a somewhat amused expression on her face. “Ashara, your dress is filthy.”

“You don’t like it anyway,” you point out, earning a surprising smile from her. Although you and the queen hardly ever saw eye to eye, she was still your mother and loved her grandchildren greatly.

Soon as you walk back into her chamber, Aegon bursts into laughter, while Aemond’s jaw tenses, no doubt from watching you carry your son. You could only imagine your husband's reaction when he learned the princes managed to run off.

You sit back down to resume the meeting, which was almost over, with your son sitting on your lap. You kiss Tré’s cheek as he falls asleep in your arms. You remember once telling Aemond you never wanted children because you didn’t think you’d be capable of loving them. Oh, how wrong you were. Tré was your whole world, and you knew you’d love the next baby just as much.

—

Sitting in the garden, you gently rub your swollen stomach while watching as Aemond plays with your son. Tré was crouching behind bushes, giggling, thinking he had successfully hidden from his father, but of course Aemond knew where he was.

“Princess,” Silas, one of the servants, approaches you with a tray in his hands. He carefully places the plate of pastries, grapes, and bread on the table before sitting the tea down. While doing this, he quietly says, “I heard you are trying to stop the fighting pits in Flea Bottom, and I think there’s something you should know.”

You motion for him to sit with you and say, “Please go on.”

Silas nervously glances at your husband, who was watching your interaction, and declines your invitation to join you. “I do not wish to cross a line, princess, but I’ve heard rumors regarding Prince Aegon.”

Your mouth goes dry. “What is it you’ve heard?”

“That there are children fighting in pits with Targaryen features, and that they have been fathered by the king's eldest son.”

Silas couldn’t have been older than six and ten; he had an innocence around him that you wanted to protect. You place your hand on top of his and say, “Thank you; you did the right thing by telling me.”

“Please don’t tell anyone I told you, princess. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

“You’d risk getting into trouble by telling me, why?”

He shrugs. “You’ve always been very kind to me.”

“I’ll do my best to keep you safe, sir,” you smile.

He smiles back at you until Aemond stands behind you with your son in his arms and a murderous look on his face. Silas quickly bows his head and says, “My prince.”

You feel bad watching the young boy fumble over his feet to get away. You pout at Aemond as he sits down across from you and says, “You don’t need to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Scare the young servants.” You take a handful of grapes and begin cutting them into pieces. “The ones who approach me are harmless.”

Aemond smiles, something that he hardly ever does in front of others. “Motherhood has softened you, my love; you are far too trusting.”

You push the plate of cut-up grapes in front of Tré and say, “Perhaps, but it’s also common knowledge what will happen to anyone who crosses the wife of the rider of the largest dragon living.”

“Vhagar!” Tré squeals excitedly, making you chuckle.

“Hmm.” Aemond leans forward and brushes hair behind your ear. “Regardless, you are my wife, and I want to keep you safe.”

“Ñuha nēdenka zaldrīzes.”

—

You clench your teeth as you dip your feet into the basin that has been placed in front of you. The maester had added a mixture of oils that were meant to help ease the pain of how swollen and painful your feet had become during your pregnancy. You were supposed to be meeting your grandsire to discuss the latest news of Aegon’s bastards, but you were in far too much pain to walk further than your own bedchambers.

“Princess, Lord Strong is here to see you.”

You frown. “I’m improperly dressed. Tell Lord Strong, I’m feeling unwell and will see him tomorrow.”

It was only midday, but you had decided to resign in your chambers for the rest of the afternoon due to feeling so uncomfortable. Aegon and Helaena had gone dragon riding, while Aemond had gone to sit in with Tré for the remainder of his lessons, giving you much needed time alone. Even though this pregnancy was better than your first, it was still exhausting.

Closing your eyes, you lean your head back in the chair and try to doze off, but the sound of a cane hitting the cobblestones alters your appearance. What didn’t he understand about your request? You scowl at hearing him dismiss your lady-in-waiting, who is frantically telling him to wait. You reach for the dressing gown that is hanging on the side of the chair you are sitting in and quickly put it on to keep your modesty.

“I believe you were asked to leave.”

A look of shock crosses his features. “I do apologize; I have obviously misunderstood.”

Your glaze burns into the Lord as he sits down across from you. Seeing him limp, you feel obligated to allow him to sit for a moment. You nod for one of the servants to move the objects on the chair away so he can sit down comfortably. “What is it you want, Lord Strong?”

“For us to be friends, Ashara.”

Anger stirs within you. It wasn’t that he addressed you by your name; it was the arrogance that laced his voice that irked you. “Do not forget I am a Targaryen princess; next time you address me as any less, I will have your tongue removed.”

“Such a spirited princess,” he nods his head, looking amused. “I will do well to remember my place next time.”

When one of your ladies-in-waiting approaches you with a towel in her hands, you lift your feet from the basin to allow her to dry them. You notice Lary's eyes creepily glued to your feet, and the way he repositions himself on the chair makes you feel uncomfortable.

He clears his throat. “I am good companions with the queen; I just thought I’d offer my services to you.”

“I will keep that in mind, but I must ask that you please leave, as I’m very tired.”

“Of course, growing a child is a tiresome job.”

You avert your eyes as he slowly walks by you, with what appears to be a bulge in his pants. A sickening feeling builds inside you. Whatever had just transpired left a sour taste in your mouth and left you feeling uncomfortable in a place you’ve always felt safe.

Ñuha nēdenka zaldrīzes - My fierce dragon

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #Aemond Targaryen #aemond targaryen x you #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon x reader #killer queen #aemond targaryen/you #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen/reader

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thornybubbles · 5 months

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The Cat Came Back (Followup) The Morioh Gang reactions

Note: This is a follow up piece to “The Cat Came Back” in which the Reader finds themselves in the possession of the Stand, Killer Queen and asks Josuke for help. The following is just showing how the other characters would react. So headcanons I guess… You can find the original story this is based on here:

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Josuke: You already saw his initial reaction when you told him about your unwanted Stand, but there was a lot that Josuke left unsaid, mostly because he didn’t want you to see just how disturbed he really was. He can’t even imagine what you must be going through. This whole situation is horrific and… well… bizarre. It was bad enough that you were targeted and held hostage by Kira during the final confrontation, but now you’re stuck with Kira’s Stand as your own. He still doesn’t understand how something like that could even happen. How does a living person end up with a dead man’s Stand? It’s even more confusing if you consider how Reimi said that Kira died. If both user and Stand were torn apart by ghostly arms, then how is the Stand still active? And why, WHY, WHY, is it acting as your Stand now? Josuke never wanted you to get involved in the crazy, dangerous world of Stand users, but you are now and he can’t help but blame himself. If he had never become friends with you, then maybe you wouldn’t have run into Kira that day and this wouldn’t be happening to you now. He really, really hopes that Jotaro and the Speedwagon Foundation can help you with this, because this is one thing he knows he can’t fix. Just like with the death of his grandfather, he feels helpless and frustrated. But to you, he’s a beacon of calm acceptance. He’ll never let you see how shook up he is because you don’t need that right now.

Okuyasu: He takes it pretty badly. He finds the whole situation to be freaky and incredibly unfair. Expect a lot of angry crying from him in the beginning.

“Whaaaaat??!!” he shouts. “What the hell is this?! How does something like that even happen?! Can’t that creepy hand-humping bastard go haunt someone else?!”

He insists that Josuke could probably fix it if he used Crazy Diamond to bring you back to a state before you became a Stand user, but Josuke explains that his powers don’t work like that. Okuyasu is so desperate that he even suggests, to everyone’s horror, that he could use The Hand to erase Killer Queen. That idea is very quickly shot down by Josuke.

“Think about it, Okuyasu,” Josuke says. “If you erase a person’s Stand it’s like erasing their soul! Do you want to do that to our friend?”

Okuyasu realizes his idea was awful, but dammit he wants to help okay? He feels helpless and frustrated that he can’t think of anything useful in this situation. He just wants the Stand to go away and leave you alone. He even goes so far as to ask you to summon Killer Queen just so he can say that to the Stand’s face.

“Listen here you pink cat bastard!” he practically spits at the Stand. “You better fuck off and leave our friend alone or I’m gonna make your life a living hell!!!”

Killer Queen merely stares Okuyasu down until the delinquent actually starts feeling a little nervous. Then the Stand has the nerve to give him a wry little smile and duck down to nuzzle his head against yours. Freaked out, you dismiss him and Okuyasu rages. It’s going to take a LOOOOOOOONG time for Okuyasu to come to terms with your new status as a Stand user.

Koichi: Koichi is horrified, not just at the situation, but he is very worried for you. Like everyone else, he’s baffled at how you could end up with someone else’s Stand. Not only that, but Koichi is the first to notice that there’s something different about Killer Queen now that it’s attached to you. The Stand seems more lively and sentient with you than it did with Kira, even going so far as to mock others and show you unwanted affection. It was far, far more reserved with Kira. What did that mean exactly? Did it have to do with your personality having an effect on its behavior? He wants to offer you all the support and comfort that he can as your friend but he can’t ignore the creeping feeling of dread that comes over him when he’s in your presence now. He tries not to let it show, because the last thing he wants is for you to think he’s afraid of you. You have enough to worry about without having to consider if your friends fear you now.

Koichi starts doing research on Stands and Stand users, hoping to find something he can use to help you. Maybe there’s a way to separate a user from their Stand without hurting them? Of course, he has considered your feelings on the matter. Would you want to be separated from Killer Queen? Koichi will never say this out loud, but he has a terrible fear that a little bit of Kira’s personality has remained within Killer Queen and that there may be a possibility that Kira’s violent tendencies will start to manifest within you. He really hopes that isn’t the case. He doesn’t want Kira somehow hurting anyone else from beyond the grave, least of all one of his closest friends. He doesn’t know what he’d do if you started turning violent…

Jotaro: As per usual, Jotaro’s reaction is minimal when he first finds out, but his eyes are filled with a myriad of emotions: anger, shock, horror, and exhaustion. Especially the last one. Jotaro is so very tired. It’s bad enough that he’s still having to deal with DIO’s evil influence on the world even after the blood-sucking asshole’s death, but now Kira’s Stand has fused itself with your soul and is acting as your Stand. What is it with villains and the need to cling to the living world even after their very deserved deaths? Jotaro is oddly reminded of that stupid old kid’s song he heard when he was very young:

But the cat came back the very next day

The cat came back, they thought he was a goner

But the cat came back, it just couldn't stay away

That did seem to be the case with Kira. Though, Killer Queen wasn’t Kira’s Stand anymore so it technically wasn’t Kira anymore either. He couldn’t ignore that fact. Killer Queen was your Stand now. Like Koichi, he could sense a difference in the Stand now that it was yours. It seemed more sentient than it was with Kira and he wasn’t blind to the mocking smile the thing would give him and the others. That was worrying. That and how affectionate it seemed towards you. It very clearly recognized and accepted you as its new user. This sudden level of sentience it displayed was disturbing.

The whole thing annoyed him. Just like Koichi, he feared that some of Kira’s influence still lingered within Killer Queen and could have an effect on you. It didn’t help that you didn’t seem to have the best control over the Stand, due to the fact that it sometimes materialized when you didn’t want it to and how it hesitated when you tried to dismiss it. That settles it. He was going to train you on how to control Killer Queen before the thing decided to control you. From now on, you can expect to be dragged along whenever Jotaro is showing Josuke how to better control Crazy Diamond. He would work with the Speedwagon Foundation in order to better understand your condition and help you in any way he could. He made a silent vow to himself that he would not let Kira’s influence corrupt you.

Rohan: Surprisingly, Rohan is the one to take the news the hardest, but he’s also the one to find something close to a solution to your problem.

Next to Koichi, you’re one of the few people he puts any value in. When you reveal Killer Queen to him his first response is to recoil in fear (let’s not forget the multiple deaths he had to endure because of the Stand’s user). After that he gets angry.

“If this is supposed to be a prank, it’s not funny! Did Josuke put you up to this? I never realized that low-life had such a demented sense of humor…” he says.

When you explain to him that it isn’t a prank and he realizes that Killer Queen has indeed become your Stand, he starts acting as if you just informed him that you had a terminal illness and only had a year to live. You watch as the poor man goes through all seven stages of grief in a matter of moments.

Denial: “This has to be a joke. I won’t believe that it’s true! Something like this is impossible! How can you have a dead man’s Stand!?”

Anger: “How could you let something like this happen?! I know it’s not your fault, that’s not the point! Surely you could have done something to stop it?! And where was Josuke or that nitwit, Okuyasu?! Why didn’t they do something?! I’m not shouting, you’re shouting!!”

Bargaining: “I’ll give you an autograph if you say that you’ve been messing with me this whole time! I won’t even get angry, I promise! What about one of my unpublished manuscripts? One of my figurines? You… you’re really not joking about this are you?”

Depression: He goes over to his desk and just sits there staring out the window. You don’t get a response out of him but you notice the tears rolling down his face and you’re shocked. The “Great” Rohan Kishibe is actually shedding tears? And on your behalf? After a moment he wipes his face and starts talking to you as if nothing happened.

Acceptance: “This isn’t ideal, but it isn’t the end of the world. You say that Jotaro’s been teaching you how to better control Killer Queen? That’s good. Now you won’t have to worry about it hurting anyone you don’t want it to.”

At some point during the conversation, Rohan jumps up from his seat and grabs the sides of his head with disbelief.

“I cannot believe I didn’t think of this.” he mutters.

“Think of what?” you ask, hoping he has thought of some kind of solution to your problem.

“We’ll use Heaven’s Door to prevent you from losing control over Killer Queen!”

You stared at him, mouth open in surprise. How had no one considered that before now?

“Give me your hand.” Rohan says and you oblige.

Heaven’s Door manifests next to him and the little Stand touches the back of your hand. You stare at him amazed, having never seen him up until that moment. You are startled as the back of your hand flips open like a tiny book. You see writing on the inside of it, but don’t have time to read any of it before Rohan grabs a pen and jots something down in the margins of the page. It says,

“I have complete and total control over my Stand, Killer Queen. It will never harm anyone that is not a threat to me or my loved ones.”

Then Heaven’s Door flips the book closed and your hand returns to normal.

“Now, that settles that!” Rohan says with a self satisfied grin. “Really I’m surprised you hadn’t come to me sooner…”

While Rohan is congratulating himself, you take the time to lean up and give him a kiss of gratitude on his cheek.

“You’re the best, Rohan!” you say, overflowing with relief and thankfulness.

Rohan freezes mid-sentence, a stunned expression on his face. For a full minute he just stands there staring with his mouth open in shock and a hint of pink dusting his normally pale cheeks. At first you thought that you might have crossed a line and he’d start shouting at you, but he doesn’t. Then you start worrying if you’ve broken him.

“Rohan?” You ask.

This seems to snap the manga creator out of his stunned state. Without saying a word, he turns on his heel, marches over to his desk, plops down in the chair and starts scribbling away in a notebook.

“....rapid heart beat….feelings of almost unbearable euphoria…”

He stops to reach up and touch his face then immediately goes back to writing.

“...cheeks feel like they’re on fire….”

You blink at him, not knowing what to say or do. You guess he’s gone into work mode. There’s not much you can do to break him out of that once his creative juices start flowing. You decide to leave and go tell the others the good news.

“Okay, well. I guess I’ll go let Josuke and the others know. I’m sure they’ll be relieved.” you say.

“Later, Rohan.”

You start to leave when Rohan suddenly turns to you with a serious expression.

“Before you go, I want it to be known here and now that if you tell anyone, especially Josuke, that I cried, I will never speak to you again.”

Your lips twitch as you hold back a laugh.

“You’re secret’s safe with me, Rohan-sensei.” you say.

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #reader insert #jojos bizarre adventure #kira yoshikage #killer queen #jojo x reader #non yandere #reader is a stand user #jjba part 4 #diamond is unbreakable #jojo part 4 #josuke higashikata #jotaro kujo #okuyasu nijimura #koichi hirose #rohan kishibe

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slvt4lanadelrey · 10 months

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Rebellion | Phoebe Atwell

Warnings: swearing, sex jokes, pregnancy, bullying(?) Blood, weed, alcohol, phoebe not being a love interest(yet)

Part Two | Rebellion

Glasses were propped a little too high on your nose, you sniffed through the halls colliding with a locker thanks to some dumbass who just had to barge you. your glasses fell off your face, dropping to the floor with a faint click. You were essentially fucked, acting just like Velma did in Scooby Doo, hands scattered across the floor in hopes to pick up your glasses.

Nothing, they kept sliding away from your fingers before you could pluck them from the disgusting floor.

You had pretty bad vision, but you weren't blind. So when someone else, someone dressed in leather and smelt like jasmine's walked into your vision you quickly shuffled to your feet; prior you were awkwardly placed on the floor, hands and knees pressed into the surface.

"Not that I'm complaining but why are you on your knees?" You couldn't think, hear and especially see her. You squinted, seeing her with heart glasses that were tinted pink.

"Uh,—" your face flushed, blush embedded in your features at the comment the stranger made.

"Shit-" the unknown stranger assumingly girl grumbled out, she reached down and grabbed your glasses.

Just like any half arsed rom-com that had a decent storyline, with two remotely hot leads that ultimately end up together.

The person in front of you pressed your hair behind your ears, sliding your glasses up your nose just high enough for you to see but low enough that they weren't plush to your cheekbones.

"Better." She confirmed, her thumb sliding over the small cut that trickled with blood. The bullies had you good today, they normally never hurt you to the point you'd bleed; guess it was your lucky day?

Your eyes nearly bulged out of their socket, staring with a wide gaze at what stood in front of you. She was very pretty, her hair was done in a way that it was impossible to describe, she had a black choker around her neck, a green cardigan and—

Oh God.

"Are you staring at my boobs?" You dropped your notebook, something you only just picked up now slamming against the floor again. Her shirt was revealing, not in a pervy way but your eyes 'accidentally' wandered.

"No! I'm so sorry, I'm—I shouldn't have checked your outfit out."

"You checked me out?"

Your face wasn't a modest pink no more, a thick crimson occupied your features as you stumbled on your words.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm—I'm leaving, goodbye." You scrumaged off, feet jittered on the concrete floor.

You let out a thankful sigh when you were out of her sight, leaving her in the air.

Your back slumped down in your seat, someone eating yoghurt beside you.

The class started, everyone getting out their textbooks and sliding towards the page the teacher asked for.

Your fingers skimmed over the words, highlighter in hand and clear sticky notes placed on the desk.

"Y/N, what would the answer be?"

Your head whipped up, your hands wiping over your jeans to wipe away the sweat.

"Many people argue that Romeo wasn't actually a romantic, but a hothead. He was madly in love with another girl, moments before meeting Juilet. Then how coincidently, he met Juliet and all now he was in love with her? I think that romance didn't play a part in his attraction, more the desire of his hormones." You didn't stutter, you spoke because you knew the subject. You weren't scared nor afraid to speak; a win in your books, progress made. The same pretty girl walked into the room, now occupied by the principal.

"Wow, you're talking about Romeo's sex drive? I already love this class." Your heart stuttered, hammering into your chest as your mouth went dry. She stood taller than you, only slightly maybe it was her heeled leather shoes. Something that was incredibly hot, turning you into a flustered mess.

She smiled at the class, offering something that looked innocent and sweet; but soon turned threatening when she opened her mouth.

"All right all you lions! This is our new transfer student. Her name is Phoebe Atwell, she comes to us from the guardian angel program where upstanding adult citizens nominate—" You blocked out the teacher's draining voice. Phoebe was staring at you, her glasses tilted down so she could properly look at you. You shuffled in your seat, feeling hot under her gaze.

"She's a criminal?" Someone muttered beside you, tucking their backpack under their feet.

"Let's give her a warm lion welcome!"

The class was dead silent, no one daring to speak at the introduction she was given. You didn't catch everything, but she was from a juvenile transfer who was granted the chance to turn their life around.

"Phoebe! Tell us three things about yourself?" The woman who was ultimately really kind asked. Phoebe thought for a moment, biting her lip whilst her eyes stabbed daggers at you.

She stood closer to the class, daunting over everyone's bodies due to her shoes.

"I think snakes are the most misunderstood reptiles. My favourite movies vacillate between the deliverance, or anything by—" Her eyes were like eagles on you, scorching onto your frame. You zoned out, pen between your lips as you chewed wildly as she explained one of her favourite director's.

"I'm late."

The class froze, all eyes on her. The principal laughed awkwardly, chuckling at the ludicrous fact Phoebe decided to state.

"No you're not, you're on time." The teacher promised, nodding her head whilst her eyes scanned the clock that stood above her. You clicked your tongue, foot bouncing in anticipation for what Phoebe had to say.

"Oh no principle Highbridge, I'm late—" she took off her pink heart glasses, noting in your head that she had big brown eyes that would probably persuade you into doing bad things.

"I'm nine days late for my period. " She addressed the class, smiling when she looked back at you. Her tongue rolled over her teeth, eyeing you up like a meal.

"Oh?"

A sudden bold wave rushed through you, you slammed your hand into the desk and stood up.

"God damn it, Phoebe! You told me you were getting rid of that thing." The class shifted their gaze to you, eyes darting back and forth between you and the new girl.

"You wouldn't pick up your phone, you asshole!" Phoebe argued back, picking up on the humour the class was obviously lacking.

"How am I supposed to know that kids mine?" You questioned, breathing out hot air. Phoebe bit her tongue, poking it with her cheek.

"When It comes out with your bitch ass attitude!—"

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jennaortega #jenna ortega #phoebe atwell #phoebe atwell x you #phoebe atwell x fem #phoebe atwell x fem!reader #phoebe atwell x reader #wednesday addams #lorraine day #tara carpenter #vada cavell #the babysitter #the babysitter: killer queen #wlw #lesbian

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jojostylesposts · 17 days

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Yoshikage Kira hcs ≽^•༚• ྀི≼

- well obvious hand obsession?!

- Manicures are a 100% on him. He will treat you like a princess to mantain those gorgeous hands of yours fresh and soft 24/7

- From expensive creams to spas

- Rings rings rings

- Expect lots of rings as gifts

- Expensive rings and expesive bracelets but those wont be the only things wrapped around your tiny little hands…just saying

- Would deff choose your nail color since he likes basic pearly glazed nails… his personal preference

- He imagines those hands of yours, soft long silky fingers wrapped around his…

- You would be in his head while he’s at work…naughty thoughts for sure

- Daily hand massages just for you

- Would do daily house tasks just so you don’t damage your precious hands

- Mans a man of routine and private by nature

- He’s quite secretive about his true identity and activities but won’t hurt you…unless you fuck up?? He’s still a villan..just saying

- Thinks about you all the time…in a more obssessive way I would say

- Kira’s quite straight foward and can sound bit harsh sometimes

- Mostly vanilla in bed since he prioritizes organization and presicion, but it can vary if you act like a brat enough and challenge him just to push him out of his comfort zone

- Very controlling for sure since he’s so obssessed with presicion

- Lunch dates together after work is part of the routine

- His kisses are soft, reserved and calculated

- Would suck and lick your fingers during sexy time for sureeee

- Oh, and add a littleslap too that will drive him crazy

- Again, please push him out of his comfort zone if you’re risky enough (who knows how he will act)

- Pull him by the tie and see what happens… spice it up

- Challenging him and pushing him may lead to a rougher side of him

- Definetly loves when you tie his tie just to observe how your fingers twist and fold the fabric

- Quite a narcissist. He may prioritize himself in bed and his desires mostly

- Overall, he would be very attentative towards you, since you are his new obsession, definetly an experience

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maxxix66 · 1 year

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Last moments

“With the lights out, it's less dangerous.”

Warnings: Angst, murder, brief mentions of suicide, spoilers, don’t know if this counts but considering her past, Phoebe Atwell, female reader. This is short.

POV: Third Person

Request: my brain

Pairing: Phoebe Atwell x Female Reader

Genre: Fluffy Angst

‼️SPOILERS FOR THE BABYSITTER: KILLER QUEEN BELOW THE CUT‼️

(Y/N) squeezed Melanie’s arm. She stared into her beautiful brown eyes, smiling in a terrified manner. Obviously, she couldn’t be rude to the one who was armed, right?

“Mel, I promise, I’m not going to tell anyone about what you’ve done if you just take my blood and forget it. I’ll be… a blood deposit. You can have as much as you want. I’ll… I’ll remain pure! I won’t do anything, I won’t even tell Cole that the wine was spiked..! I swear!”

Melanie stared (Y/N) in the eyes, continuing to slowly slide the knife in and out of her stomach.

“What was that? You won’t tell Cole what we did? What else won’t you tell him? That you made out with his girlfriend? Pretty girl, be honest. You wanted to join us.”

(Y/N) shook her head, before Melanie pulled out and delivered one last blow. Honestly, (Y/N) couldn’t help but wonder why she even continued to be in that same city after she saw what happened at Cole’s house. She saw everything. But that was besides the point. Melanie pulled the knife out one last time, and shoved (Y/N) over the edge of the cliff, making her fall into the secretive area of sacrifice. (Y/N) coughed and wiped her lip, feeling the smear of blood drying. It wasn’t long before Phoebe ran up to grab onto her, holding (Y/N)’s hand and resting her head on her lap.

“(Y/N)? It’s alright, I… I called the cops, they should be here any minute now..! It’s alright!”

(Y/N) hissed in pain, holding her spare hand over her wound. Her fingers were covered in blood, and a tear slipped out of her eye.

“Ph- Phoebe..? I… When I came here, I knew I should’ve jumped in the lake instead of staying with Cole…”

Phoebe shook her head, and held onto (Y/N) tighter. “No, no… I promise, that wouldn’t have helped. Here,” she took her jacket off, and tied it tightly around (Y/N)’s waist. “this should help…”

Phoebe gently lowered (Y/N) onto the ground, while she got in position. She sat criss cross, and pulled (Y/N) onto her lap. She gave her a gentle kiss on the lips, and entangled her fingers in (Y/N)’s hair. (Y/N) set her head on Phoebe’s shoulder, quietly crying into her.

“I’m not ready to die. I don’t want it to happen just yet, I still have so much left for me… A family, a job, home, college… You, Phoebe. I don’t want to die because of you. I want to be here for… you…”

(Y/N)’s breaths slowed down, as the blue and red lights flickered around them, as well as the brain piercing sirens. She pulled herself up slightly, staring Phoebe in the eyes. Her ragged breaths broke Phoebe’s heart.

“Phoebe, I’m sleepy…”

“It’s okay… I give you permission to rest.”

“I love you, Phoebs.”

“I love you too, (Y/N). Now, get some sleep…”

With those last, reassuring words, (Y/N) set her head on Phoebe’s shoulder, and closed her eyes.

#phoebe Atwell #the babysitter killer queen #the babysitter #phoebe atwell x female reader #jenna ortega #Jenna ortega x reader #Jenna ortega x female reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #maxxix66

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sanityshorror · 1 year

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Erin Nichols aka Erin Eerie, OC and artwork is © @1-800-cr33py (permission given to me to post this)

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eluxcastar · 8 months

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Idk how interesting this information would be to anyone else but in my notes all of my reader characters have names so I can keep track of which one the notes belong to. There's only one exception and it's Pantalone's husband— he's just Loverboy 😭

#☆ — riri says.#it's a Queen reference #because I was like #Pantalone is so Killer Queen #he needs a Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy #and for some reason that stuck 😭#he doesn't even get a title #like in my One of Repetition notes I call the reader Brighella #he didn't get any of that #pantalone #pantalone x reader #pantalone x male reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

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yourmomazfav · 10 months

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Masterlist

Exactly what the title says :)

Scream-

Sidney Prescott- -Did It For Her Gender Neutral Reader

Tatum Riley-

Randy Meeks- -Dating Randy Meeks Would Include Gender Neutral Reader -Randy Meeks NSFW Alphabet Gender Neutral Reader

Stu Macher-

Billy Loomis-

Mickey Altieri- -Way To Piss Off A Serial Killer Fem Reader -Mickey Altieri NSFW Alphabet Gender Neutral Reader

Roman Bridger-

Jill Roberts-

Sam Carpenter-

Tara Carpenter- -Love In The Face Of Death (Part One) Fem Reader -Love In The Face Of Death (Part Two) Fem Reader

Amber Freeman- -Love her Gender Neutral Reader

Mindy Meeks-Martin-

Chad Meeks-Martin-

Quinn Bailey-

Anika Kayoko- -Lovebug Fem Reader

Wednesday (TV Series)-

Wednesday Addams- -Dating Wednesday Addams Would Include Gender Neutral Reader -Devil Horns? Fem Reader -Axe Wielder (Part One) Fem Reader -Axe Wielder (Part Two) Fem Reader -Watch A Movie With Me? Fem Reader

Enid Sinclair- -Dating Enid Sinclair Would Include Gender Neutral Reader -Quiet Love Male Reader -Stupid Storms Fem Reader -Parents Day Gone Wrong Fem Reader

Yoko Tanaka-

Bianca Barclay-

Yellowjackets-

Lottie Matthews- -Dating Lottie (post and pre crash) hcs Gender neutral

Natalie Scatorccio-

Shauna Shipman-

Jackie Taylor-

Marvel-

Wanda Maximoff-

Natasha Romanoff-

Carol Danvers-

Kate Bishop-

Shameless-

Fiona Gallagher-

Lip Gallagher-

Ian Gallagher-

Debbie Gallagher-

Carl Gallagher-

Mickey Milkovich-

Mandy Milkovich-

Sandy Milkovich-

Young Avengers-

Tommy Shepherd-

Billy Kaplan-

Kate Bishop-

Cassie Lang-

Teddy Altman-

America Chavez-

The Babysitter + The Babysitter Killer Queen-

Cole Johnson-

Bee-

Max

Sonya-

Phoebe Atwell-

The Quarry-

Jacob Custos-

Dylan Leviny-

Emma Mountebank-

Kaitlyn Ka-

Ryan Erzahler-

Laura Kearney-

Max Brinly-

Until Dawn-

Sam Giddings-

Emily Davis-

Mike Munroe-

Ashley Brown-

Jess Riley-

Josh Washington-

Chris Hartley-

Matt Taylor-

Beth Washington-

Hannah Washington-

A Good Girl's Guide to Murder (All three books)-

Pippa Fitz-Amobi-

Ravi Singh-

Cara Ward-

Naomi Ward-

Nat da Silva-

Connor Reynolds-

Jamie Reynolds-

Family Switch-

CC Walker-

-Winter's Feelings Fem Reader

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alovesongtheywrote · 10 months

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Killer Queen | Eddie Munson x Reader

♥ Summary: It was supposed to be a quick job. A simple kill, like many before it. You just didn’t account for someone stealing it from you- nor did you expect that someone to be too pretty to kill. [Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader]

♥ Warnings: 18+, minors and ageless blogs dni. violence, murder, death of a minor character, brief mention of death during childbirth & miscarriage unrelated to the reader, arranged marriage to someone other than eddie, oral (f receiving), biting, pwp (that mostly kicks in at the end tbh, and even then the plot is going sideways) fantasy assassins au, enemies to lovers

♥ A/N: get ready for this fuckin thing

♥ Word count: 6895

Part 1, Part 2,

♥♥♥

What is death? Is it the simple end of life, the silence of a stopped heart and lungs that have ceased to breathe? Is it a bright light at the end of a long dark tunnel? Is it dark? Is it empty? Is it a soft twisting thing that wraps its limbs around the dying to pull them gently away from life? Or is it a classic grim reaper, with skulls and bones and a sharp rusted scythe?

To most people, death could be anything. To you, though, death was an old friend. No, that was too familiar- to you, death was a coworker.

And today, death was fucking late.

The taste of iron spilled through your mouth as you worried your teeth between your lips. The stone wall behind your shoulders had long since lost its chill. A few feet away from you, a lord sat at a grand table, plotting away over a map. Servants and advisors fluttered around him in an odd dance, performing their subordination to the best of their ability. You could almost appreciate that- but more than anything, you needed them to leave.

You needed to kill the lord. Preferably alone. Preferably fast.

You’d been in the right position just minutes before. During a brief respite where the room’s occupants had spilled out into the vast hallways of the manor, you had your shot. Death was in your hands- a precise weapon, ready to strike. Then you missed. A servant boy with tangled hair wrapped in a messy bun had come in, carrying a serving of tea. After that, you had to wait. You did not care for that shit at all.

You had nothing against the lord on a personal level. In fact, you barely knew his name. This was a mundanity for you. A job. A murder by order of your boss. Your king. You just didn’t like waiting. Neither did your knife- the metal of your blade pressed hard against your thigh, hungry and pleading. Nevertheless, you just had to stand there and watch the lord sip on his tea and plot over a map.

And then the lord collapsed.

You jolted at the sound of fine china smashing as the teacup fell from the lord’s grasp to the floor below. His face was flat against his desk, eyes open but unseeing. The room fell silent for the briefest moment. Someone moved forward- an advisor, if you remembered right. Their hand wrapped around the lord’s wrist, feeling for a pulse. With a shake of their head, they announced the man’s death. Chaos ensued.

Servants gasped and maids screamed. People gathered around the lord, poking and prodding and shaking the man’s body, trying to rouse the recently deceased. It looked like death had been on time for work after all. You just hadn’t seen them come in.

Or had you? From the corner of your eye, you noticed the same long-haired servant that brought the lord his tea sneak out of the room. Without thinking, you slipped away after him, giving just enough care to make sure you weren’t being followed.

The servant took a winding, wandering path through the manor’s halls. His lithe form sped through the house, gaining speed as panic over the lord’s death spread through every corridor and stairwell. Had you not been following his cloud of messy dark hair so closely, you were sure you would have lost sight of him entirely.

Finally, he ducked past a large oak door, into a study that you knew to be empty most of the time. You wondered if he knew that. Refusing to dwell on it for long, you darted in after him, skirt swishing around your legs as you slid into the room.

In seconds, your back was against the wall. The servant boy was deceptively strong, keeping your wrists pinned above your head with a single hand. He kept his other hand clamped over your mouth, silencing you. You struggled, but it got you nowhere. The man before you held you fast. You were trapped, completely unable to move- and entirely able to take in the face of your assailant.

His eyes were wide, honey brown and warm like the evening sun. There was a wildness to them, though you couldn’t tell if it was from fear or excitement. His skin was smooth, pale like porcelain, and marked with the faintest freckles and faded scars. The messy hair you’d identified him by hung in his eyes, curling around his face like a halo.

He was beautiful. And, if you were right, he had stolen your kill. Fucker.

“Apologies, fair lady,” he murmured, “But I’m not going anywhere that you can follow.”

His voice was just as pretty as the rest of him. It was soft and gentle, and ever so slightly strained, betraying his stress. For a moment, you just watched as his lips wrapped around every word.

“Now, I’d be happy to let you go, but I can’t have you screaming on me, can I?”

You stayed still, refusing to look away from his big brown eyes. He tilted his head, examining you in return.

“I’ll make you a deal, princess. I’ll let you out of here if you keep quiet,” he raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for a response. You didn’t give him one.

“C’mon, princess. This is a once-in-a-lifetime deal I’m offering here.”

You still didn’t respond.

“God, you’re killing me here. Look, I-”

He didn’t get to finish that sentence. Before he could, you brought your foot down on his, twisting in his hold to free yourself. Once you were free, you used his surprise to pin him to the nearest flat surface- the study’s desk. His chest was pressed against the mahogany, and his arms were wrenched tightly behind his back.

“You were saying?” you asked, trying not to be too smug.

“How did you-?”

You cut him off again, “Hey, speaking of killing, what was it that you slipped Lord Kline?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on. Was it nightshade? Cyanide? Don’t worry, pretty boy, you can tell me,” you put more of your weight onto him, pressing him into the desk even harder than before. He let out a little moan, and you had to hide the way your breath hitched at the sound.

“Okay,” his voice shook slightly, though he tried desperately to hide the tremor, “Maybe you do know what you're talking about.”

“Mhmm,” you spared a hand, reaching up to play with a strand of his long dark hair- both to intimidate him and out of pure curiosity. Like his voice and eyes, it was softer than you’d expected. You leaned in closer, lips nearing his ear, “I almost respect it, y’know? That thing with the poison, you’re just waiting for the man to croak. I was waiting for an opening to attack.”

He struggled against you, but you held him fast. The metal of your blade pressed against the skin of your thigh. You could feel your second weapon- another, smaller blade- digging into your sternum. You had no doubt that he could feel both weapons pressing into him. You kind of liked it- that silent threat.

“I would’ve had him, y’know? I had a tiny window of opportunity to kill him. But then you just had to come in with the tea and-”

This time, he cut you off. He turned in your grasp, his arms clutching your biceps before he pushed you back and turned the both of you, pushing you into the desk. You could feel the edge of it hard against your spine. A whimper of discomfort escaped you. He had the audacity to look pleased.

“Alright princess, just so we’re clear,” he stepped back from you slowly, letting his hands trace down your arms until he was just barely touching you. You moved to get up, but you were far, far too slow. In seconds, he was on you again- one arm lying lengthwise across your shoulders, and one hand flat against the bottom of your ribs.

“Don’t move. Just wait.”

This time, you did as he asked, watching as he stepped back and raised his hands as if in surrender. He moved slowly, acting as if you were some wild and feral creature he had to appease. That wasn’t too far from the truth. One of his hands slipped past the collar of his shirt, pulling a small bottle of dark, thick liquid from beneath the fabric. Next, he moved a hand to his pocket, pulling out another, similar bottle from it.

“Just so we’re clear, this is all I’ve got on me,” he put the bottles back in their places, “What about you, princess?”

You leapt back up, “Call me princess one more time-”

He met your fists in the air, where they were raised to attack him. Tipping your momentum against you, he shoved you back against the desk, once again pinning your wrists.

“Goddamnit- do not make me tie you up.”

You growled at him. He had the good sense to pull back slightly- if he got too close, you would absolutely bite him.

“Okay, please do not take this the wrong way. I promise I’m not going to hurt you, but-” his hand went under your skirt, tracing up your leg to your thigh. You let out a short scream, kicking at him on instinct as the feeling of his calloused fingers on your skin burned itself into your memory. He pulled away quickly, your blade in his hands. As he’d promised, you were unharmed.

But you were pissed.

“Oh, you motherfucker,” you reached down your shirt, seizing your second blade and lunging at him. He countered with the weapon you’d kept at your thigh with ease- though in all fairness, that was the bigger blade.

“Hey, wait-” you cut off his protests, taking another stab at him. He managed to doge, but if you had your way, he wouldn’t keep his skin intact for long

“You will not,” you threw yourself forward, swinging the knife at his arm and slicing the fabric of his shirt, “Touch me again. Do you understand?”

“Look, you have my apologies, my lady. I am deeply sorry,” he paused to block another attack from you, “But you can see why I was so eager to disarm you.”

You growled again, shoving him against the wall and burying your blade in the space beside his head.

“Wait,” he asked, “You can see it, right?”

You reached down, taking the longer blade from his hand and bringing it up to press it against his throat.

“Fuck. You,” your voice was low and sharp, terrifying, even to you.

“Look, I’m sorry-” he choked out, “I swear to God, I’m sorry.”

“You’ll be able to swear to God’s face in a second-”

“Wait! Wait,” he reached up to his shirt again, pulling it open and exposing the little bottle he’d shown you before. It was tied around his neck with a leather cord, “I disarmed you. It’s only fair that you do the same to me.”

You glared at him for a second before remembering the second bottle in his pocket. You reached down.

You tried not to revel in his shocked gasp or the way his hips slammed into the wall behind him. You tried very hard not to revel. You failed just a little bit, smiling as you took the bottle and the larger sword.

Turning the poison in your hand, your smile grew. You weren’t exactly happy, but you did appreciate the gesture. You just wondered what the hell was in your hand.

“Thank you,” you breathed, holding the bottle up to the light before turning back to face the servant boy, “I, uh. I appreciate it. Thank you.”

He nodded, bringing a hand to his throat, “It was the least I could do.”

An awkward silence fell over the study. You shook the bottle slightly, watching as the black substance swirled around.

“Hey, going back to my other question,” you held up the bottle, “What is this?”

He reached out for the olive branch you’d extended and opened his mouth to answer, only to be cut off once again by the sound of footsteps coming down the hall.

“Shit,” you whispered, tucking the poison into your pocket.

“Shit,” he grabbed your knife and pulled it from the wall. His eyes were on you- wide, and pretty, and desperate for an escape from the doomed ship you’d both climbed onto when you shut yourselves in this cursed study.

You searched the room for a way out. The windows didn’t open, and the desk wouldn’t hide either of you. A tall, sturdy cabinet stood beside the servant boy. If the two of you stood close together- perhaps uncomfortably close- you just might fit.

Without another thought, you grabbed his wrist with your free hand. You threw open the cabinet door and pushed the boy inside, thanking whatever god was out there that the thing was empty. You pushed yourself in after him, pulling the doors shut behind you just as the study door clicked open.

To his credit, the servant boy kept his hands to himself- or at least he tried. When the voices drew nearer and you practically jumped into his arms. Your back pressed into his chest. One of his hands moved to your shoulder, turning you away from the doors. Your nails bit into his arm, fingers slipping through the cut in the fabric that you made.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, voice so low that only you could hear, “Holy shit.”

“Shut up,” you turned your head as far as you could, “You’re gonna get us caught.”

“Sorry.”

You let out the quietest sigh you could muster before silencing yourself, straining to hear the voices outside. You could just barely hear them- two men, saying something about the king and how he would react to the lord’s death. The irony of it all almost distracted you from the increasing volume of the voices. One of them said something about the cabinet.

In a moment of panic, you turned, pressing yourself further into the boy’s space.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “This is going against everything we just established.”

“What-?”

You didn’t answer him. You just leaned up and let your lips meet his. The cabinet doors swung open.

Light streamed in from the study. You shut your eyes tightly, moving your hands up to the boy’s shoulders. His body tensed up beneath your touch. Deep in your chest, your heart pounded violently against your ribs. Heat pooled in the pit of your stomach. Guilt leaked into you, rushing through your veins until you felt his shaky touch at your waist. Your grip on him tightened.

You could hear the men gasp quietly, swearing and slamming the cabinet shut before you even had the chance to turn and face them. You heard the study door open and slam closed before you could even begin to pull away from the boy in front of you.

Once you did, you left your hands on his shoulders. He kept his at your sides. You both stared into the darkness at the approximation of where the other’s face would be.

You stayed like that for five whole minutes, floating in a dark universe, running through time and space until you finally came back to your body.

The second you did, you slammed the doors open and jumped outside, gasping as if you’d been deprived of air. The servant followed suit, stumbling out of the cabinet, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light.

You collapsed on the chair behind the desk, burying your face in your hands as the boy planted himself on the desk across from you. You sat in silence for a few more minutes, basking in the awkward air that filled the room.

“I uh,” you looked up at him, still hiding most of your face behind your hands, “I think that makes us even.”

“So it would seem, fair lady.”

You took a deep breath. He didn’t know your name. He knew nothing about you, and you knew nothing about him, and still, the memory of his soft lips on yours had carved its way into your brain. You shook your head, as if you could physically dispel the thought.

You stood, heading to the cabinet and grabbing the bigger of your two weapons. You turned it in your hand, examining the blade for a moment before you turned back to the man. You cleared your throat.

“Well then, pretty boy,” you took a step towards the door, giving your blade a bit of a spin, “Let’s hope that you’re better at finding your way out of here than you are at kissing.”

You reached for the doorknob, but his offended gasp cut you off. You didn’t turn to face him. You didn’t want him to see the pleased grin on your face.

“Just what are you implying, my lady?”

“I didn’t really imply anything. I just said it.”

Another offended gasp. You had to bite your lip to avoid laughing.

“Well, given the situation,” he planted a hand against the door near your head, “I don’t think I was half bad. You on the other hand-”

You finally turned to face him, “Me?”

“Yes, you, princess. That thing in the cabinet- you call that a kiss?”

“Do you, pretty boy?”

He scoffed, dropping his jaw to try and hide his smile. He failed.

“How dare you. I’ll have you know that I’m an excellent kisser.”

“You aren’t,” you crossed your arms, leaning back against the door with a grin of your own, “I know. I’ve kissed you.”

“So you would call that a kiss!”

You rolled your eyes as he kept talking, “My fair lady, that was not a kiss, that was-”

“Do you think anyone else is gonna come in here?”

“Pardon?”

“After those two saw us kissing, do you think anyone else will come in here?”

He paused for a minute, looking between you and the door before he answered, “I think they’ll all be busy with the dead lord.”

“Good. Kiss me, then.”

His eyes widened and his eyebrows raised, flying up past his bangs. His mouth opened and closed a few times, making him look like a very attractive fish.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re talking yourself up so high, I wanna see if the real thing can match it. Look, I’ll even make you a deal,” you pushed off of the door, making your way back to the cabinet. The bottle of poison he’d let you take was sitting at the bottom next to the shorter knife. They must have fallen when you’d crammed yourselves in there. You scooped them both into your grasp, taking one in each hand.

“A deal?”

A deal,” you held the weapons out to him, “If you can convince me that you’re an ‘excellent kisser’ then I’ll give you your poison back, and you can take Melissa.”

“Melissa?”

“That’s the knife.”

He nodded sagely before shutting back up, letting you continue, “However, if you suck, like I think you will-” he gasped, once again sounding terribly offended, “I get to take the poison. And Melissa.”

“I’ll take that bet,” he took a step towards you, “Melissa’s gonna love her new home.”

“Yeah?” you matched his steps until the two of you were face to face, “I’m gonna use your poisons to add a little kick to my blades.”

“I’m not gonna lie, that’s insanely attractive.”

“Then kiss me, pretty boy.”

He stared at you for a moment, his sweet brown eyes darting between your lips and your amused gaze. A shit-eating grin had immediately crossed its way onto your face, and you watched as his expression changed to mirror yours.

Slowly, he reached down and slid the weapons away from your grasp. He placed them on the desk behind him and turned towards you. There was a second of silence- the calm before the storm, before the world shifted on its axis and sent you spiraling.

He took your face in his hands, pulling you in close with both intensity and gentleness. His skin was warm, his fingers calloused, and you wanted to melt right into him.

“You sure about this, princess?”

“Are you, sweetheart?”

He smiled, brushing over your cheek with his thumb, “My name is Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

Eddie Munson. It suited him- it fit his sweet brown eyes and tangled dark hair. You liked it, more than you would care to admit. But you couldn’t deny it was probably a bad idea for him to tell you what it was.

“You’d give your name so freely?”

He shrugged, “I figured I’d give you something to moan while I kiss you- something other than ‘pretty boy’.”

“Moan? That’s presumptuous. It’s more likely that you’ll be screaming my-”

He silenced you again, not with a hand over your mouth, but with a kiss. A shocked sound escaped you before you leaned into him, moving your lips against his. Your hands ran up his chest, grasping his shirt in your fists. The fabric was softer than you expected it to be, not that you could ponder it for long.

His hands left your face, venturing down to the back of your neck. His fingers traced down your spine, making you shiver and press your body into his. You could feel him smirk against you at the small victory. You refused to let him win.

You let your hands run up and over his shoulders, threading your fingers into his hair and freeing it from the messy bun he’d put it in. As the strands spilled over his shoulders, you ran your tongue over his bottom lip. Immediately, he let you in, and you explored him thoroughly- an odd sensation since you knew nothing about Eddie Munson other than his name, and he knew even less about you.

Just as you’d started working Eddie into a bit of a state, you pulled back. You took a quick second to catch your breath and savour the sweet whine he let out before you spoke.

You told him your name.

And then you said it again, telling him that it was your name, because he looked a little confused.

“Ah, thank you for clarifying, I thought you might’ve been talking about your other sword.”

“Oh my god, do you ever shut up?”

He laughed a little, putting a hand on your waist and pulling you closer to him, “Oh, princess. If you want me to shut up, you’re gonna have to make me.”

You glared up at him, internally cursing his pretty face as you twisted your fingers in his hair before giving it a gentle tug. He leaned his head back, moving with your fist and exposing his throat as he let out a soft, low moan.

Stretching up, you attacked his neck, kissing every spot you could reach. You pulled his soft, pale skin between your teeth, leaving small, purple bruises in your wake. Your body caught fire as his breath hitched. His grip on your waist tightened, fingers digging into your sides as you found a particularly sensitive spot over his pulse point.

“Is this good enough?” you purred, voice low, “Am I making you?”

He whimpered. You took that, combined with his silence as a yes.

The leather cord around his neck brushed against your lips, reminding you of the prize waiting for you at the end of this game. With that in mind, you pressed your body further into his, forcing him to back up against the desk.

“That’s it pretty boy,” you gave his hair another tug, “You’re being so good for me.”

His hands moved up your back, shaking as they went. You had him right where you wanted him. Honestly, you were almost surprised at how easy this had been- he’d talked such a big game only to turn to putty in your hands the second your lips touched his neck. You just had to keep going and the bet was yours. His pride was yours.

“Keep it up, honey. You’re winning this goddamn deal for me.”

“Oh, am I?” his voice was weak, shaking and betraying his desperation- but there was something hidden in his tone, something devious.

Eddie moved a hand away from your back. You pulled back slightly, watching as he turned and swept the dusk clean of clutter. Ink and books fell to the ground with a crash. You tightened your grip on Eddie with one hand and covered your mouth with the other- a weak attempt to cover your shocked gasp.

“Eddie, someone will hear us!”

“They’ll be distracted, princess. They have a dead body on their hands. But,” he seized your hips in his hands and turned you until he had taken your place, and your back was against the desk, “If they do hear someone, it’ll be you.”

He wasn’t wrong. In the next second, you let out a sharp squeak as you went from standing to lying on the desk. Eddie hovered over you, a wicked grin overtaking his features as he stole control of the situation from you.

“Is this alright, fair lady?”

You rolled your eyes, turning your face away from him to hide your smile, “It’s just fine, pretty boy. It’s not enough to win the deal, but-”

Ignoring you, Eddie leaned forward, bringing his lips to the column of your throat and biting down gently. You weren’t sure how he’d managed to find such a sensitive spot in one try, but he had, and you were forced to cut yourself off with a breathy and embarrassing moan.

Maybe you didn’t have this bet in the bag.

Shaking slightly despite your every effort, you let your hands run up over Eddie’s back as he kissed the delicate skin of your neck, running his tongue and teeth over every sweet spot he could find. Your breath came faster as he moved a hand to your waist, keeping the other by your head to brace himself.

Curses escaped your lips as he moved lower, kissing every part of you that your maid uniform didn’t cover. His feather-light touch burned across your chest, across your arms, your neck, and face. Want pooled between your thighs, and you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning. Whatever he did, whatever came next, you could not let him win.

And then he pulled back.

Immediately you sat up, chasing his warmth, though you wouldn't even admit that to yourself. Before you could question him, he was moving, taking your longer sword from where it had fallen. He looked at the blade, tilting his head to admire it before he got to his feet again- advancing on you with the weapon.

You straightened up immediately, looking for something to throw at him- to fight him with. You had just settled on a nice, heavy book when he knelt on the ground in front of you. The next thing you felt was his touch on your ankle. You shot up to look at him, only to meet his wide eyes peering back up at you.

“I took this from you. Figured I’d give it back.”

“And you don’t plan to ‘give it back’ by putting it inside of me?” Blood rushed to your face as you registered the innuendo.

Eddie paused, looking both shocked and pleased, and maybe even pitying, “I-”

“Wait, no-” you began, but he drowned out your words with a laugh, “Hey, stop laughing-”

“Maybe later, princess. For now, I was just thinking that this,” he pressed the flat of your blade to your leg, “Could go back where it belongs.”

You hummed quietly, looking down at Eddie with a deep curiosity in your eyes- and a deep lust. His hand remained in its place at your ankle, his thumb gently stroking over your skin. Somewhere, far off in your mind, you captured that feeling and saved it. You couldn’t remember the last time someone, anyone, had been so gentle with you.

Without another word, you moved your skirt out of his way. His eyes widened, silently asking for a clearer answer. You smirked and leaned forward, slipping your hand to the back of his neck as you gave him a sure but quiet, “Yes.”

A smile crept across his lips as his hand slid up your leg. As his touch moved higher, you let yourself lie across the desk. You kept one hand tangled in your skirt, letting the other roam up to your chest. You let out a soft gasp as Eddie left a kiss on the inside of your knee. When he sunk his teeth into your thigh, your back arched up off the mahogany. Lust sped through your body like an electric current. You would deny it if he asked, but your body wanted him. Every part of you screamed for him to touch you properly- every part of you but your voice. No matter what your flesh craved, your mind would not let you lose this bet.

You sat back up, trying to free yourself from your own desire. You watched as Eddie moved his touch higher, sliding your blade back into its place. His touch lingered, his fingers inches from where you needed them to be. His gaze met yours again.

You were gonna lose this goddamned bet.

You moved your leg up, letting Eddie’s hands guide you into place. Your knee hooked perfectly over his shoulder. His lips met your skin again, leaving bruises all the way from your ankle to the inside of your thigh. He was so close, so very close to where you wanted him.

“Eddie-”

“Does Melissa have any specific care instructions?”

You didn’t bother to meet his quip with one of your own. You just leaned forward, moving your hands back to his neck and pulling him closer. Your fingers tangled with the leather cord knotted there.

“Oh god,” you whispered, loosening the leather tie, “Please, touch me, Eddie.”

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

Two of his fingers pressed against your clothed but dripping entrance. He moved them slowly, stroking up and down and watching as your body tensed in anticipation. You bit your tongue to keep from moaning as he sped up his movements.

“God, you’re so wet for me,” he whispered, “I think this means I won.”

“Does-” you cut yourself off with a shaky breath as he added a little more pressure, “Does that really matter right now?”

He shrugged, “It makes me feel good.”

“You got the kill, you’re getting a knife, you get to gloat,” the leather knot came undone, “What more could you want?”

“A taste of you.”

Oh, fuck, yeah, you lost. Bringing a hand to his chin, you tilted his head, making him meet your eyes. Brushing your thumb across his cheek, you whispered, “As you wish, sweetheart.”

Immediately, he moved your panties to the side, exposing your soaked cunt to him. His expression was so hungry- almost craving. How long had it been since someone craved you? Eddie took your hips in his hands and moved forward, letting his tongue circle around your clit before he moved down, teasing your entrance. A current of pleasure ran through you like electricity.

You could feel your world unravel as Eddie’s lips moved against you. Stars clouded your vision as he toyed with you, making you moan his name with only his tongue. At your sides, his fingers clenched and unclenched, digging into you before releasing. The sensation was strangely calming- and it only made you want him more. It took all of your physical and mental power to keep yourself from thrusting into his face.

You failed.

“That’s it, pretty girl, that’s it,” he murmured against your skin. The vibrations nearly made you scream, and that was to say nothing of the praise, “You taste so sweet.”

One of his hands moved down, away from your hip and over your thigh and right to your throbbing clit. His fingers circled and stroked, and you cried out, voice high and desperate. Sparks burst beneath your skin as he toyed with the bundle of nerves. You could feel him smile against your skin.

He reached down further, tongue and fingers switching spots. His lips wrapped around your clit as one of his fingers dipped inside your dripping entrance. You moaned, walls clenching around the digit as he slowly added a second.

Eddie pulled back slightly, lips dripping with your arousal. You could hear him panting, feel his breath against your cunt, “So tight,” he whispered, “You’re perfect.”

“Th-thank you.”

He laughed and kissed the inside of your thigh, dampening your skin before he returned his mouth to your clit. His fingers sunk deeper into you, curling slightly to hit every sweet spot they could find.

It didn’t take long for you to come completely undone under his touch- under his mouth. You found yourself clinging to his shoulders, wrapping your legs around him as your body shook with pleasure. It was more than safe to say he’d won the goddamned bet.

He pulled away from you slowly, moving both his hands to stroke your thighs. Slowly, you moved your hands to cover his. The study fell into a nearly surreal peace as you sat there with him, waiting for your body to cool down.

“So,” he broke the silence, “I guess I won the bet?”

“You did,” you panted, “You very much did.”

Eddie stood, holding his hands out for you to take. You needed them. When you stood, your legs shook almost violently, and even with your hands in his, you still collapsed into his chest. He remained blissfully silent, not mocking you even though it would’ve been easy to do so.

When you spoke again, it was into his shirt, “So. Melissa is yours.”

“Thank you, fair lady,” you could feel the vibrations of his voice through his chest, and God, you just wanted to stay there forever.

Soon enough, your senses came back to you.

You knelt to the ground at his feet, picking up the knife where it had fallen- and the bottle of poison you’d freed from around his throat. Before you stood, you tucked later away in a pocket, hiding it from his sight. When you stood, you met his eyes.

Just as you had thought before, they were beautiful. Huge and dark and warm- and you were sure you would never see them again. You didn’t look away from him as you handed him the blade.

“Take care of her,” you whispered, “Okay?”

“As you wish, princess.”

You let out a breath of a laugh at the nickname, fixing your skirts as you finally broke eye contact. The bottle of poison was a reassuring weight in the fabric. As you walked away from him, you reached for it.

“Well, Mr. Munson, this has been… exhilarating. Thank you for the challenge. And for taking my kill. And,” you turned the doorknob, cracking open the door, “Thanks for the poison.”

You pulled the bottle from your pocket showing him your prize as you slipped away from him. His eyes widened and his lips- still shiny with your arousal- parted. Shock appeared to paralyze him as you disappeared out the door, rushing off into the manor, and into the night.

–

Your trip home was honestly a little bit awkward. Your arousal coated your inner thighs. You couldn’t take a step without thinking of Eddie Munson- of his head between your legs, of his hands on your hips, of his mouth on yours. It was actually very annoying.

Not only had that man made you cum, he’d stolen your damn kill. And he’d taken Melissa from you. True, you had wagered her off, and he’d won fair and square, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t be irritated about it. At the very least, you had stolen the poison from him. That, you counted as a win. Your fingers ran over the cool glass bottle until your home finally came into view.

It was goddamn weird to call the palace home. In many ways, that wasn’t what it was. In the long term, you had no plans to stay, and you had no personal connections, but you lived there. The castle walls housed you, so the word “home” would suffice. It was just one of the many “perks” that came with being a royal assassin.

Another perk was your soft, comfortable bed- and given the day's events, you wanted to get to it as soon as possible. You crept over the palace gate, and silently swept through the gardens, preferring to be neither seen nor heard by anyone if you didn’t have to. Using the secret entrance in the East wing- an old servant’s corridor that had gone out of use years ago- you slipped inside and headed not for your room, but for the chamber of the king’s advisor, Lord Brenner. Tired as you were, you still had a report to make.

At this hour, the halls were mostly empty. Most of the servants were either asleep or preparing for all the shit they would have to do tomorrow. You were, unfortunately, still handling your shit from today.

You knocked quietly on the advisor’s door, and you did not wait for a response before you pushed it open. That was a bit of a mistake- or at least you thought it was. The room was half-full, despite the dark sky outside and the near-abandoned hallways. Brenner, servants, and other courtiers sat and stood in various places- and now all of them were looking at you.

Silence filled the room. When your eyes fell to the advisor, he cleared his throat and stood, making his way towards you.

“My dear, if you would join me outside for just a moment- I believe we have much to discuss.”

That felt like an understatement. With one last look around the room, you followed Brenner outside and into the still-empty corridor. The wretched silence continued.

With every passing minute, you grew desperate to make it stop- so you did.

“Lord Kline is dead.”

“Oh? Good. Excellent work.”

“I-” you paused for a moment, “I wish I could take credit. Another assassin took his life before I could.”

“Oh? Oh. Well, that will happen upon occasion. Did you happen to catch the assassin’s name?”

He was calmer than you’d expected. A sense of unease spread through you. You shifted your balance, trying to pull away from the advisor as subtly as you could.

“I didn’t. I only saw him flee from the room. I never got the chance to get a name, but I’m sure he was responsible.”

“Ah. Alas.”

Another period of silence fell, frustrating you beyond measure. Your footsteps echoed through the hallways, each step sounding like cannonfire. The chirping of the insect life outside could practically be heard through the windows. Each sound that was not the advisor’s voice brought your fists into a tighter clench.

“My lord,” you broke the silence, “You said there was something that we needed to discuss?”

The man paused, looking up not at you, but at one of the castle’s large stained-glass windows. You kind of wanted to throw him through it.

“I trust you know the fate of the King’s beloved wife?”

It was your turn to pause. Of course you knew that poor woman’s fate- she’d been brutally assassinated while visiting a neighboring country- and she had only been the latest wife. The woman before her had met a similar fate, as had the woman before her. Before that, another wife had died in childbirth- her child was lost soon after, and-

In short, the king had really shitty luck with his wives.

“I’m aware.”

Brenner let his hand trace over the window sill, pressing his fingers to the cool stone, “The King seeks another bride. One who can protect herself- who can give him strong heirs.”

Dread pooled in your stomach.

You didn’t like where this was headed- working as a royal assassin was one thing. It allowed you to get by, and it allowed you to get closer to your true goal, but this? The unsaid proposal on the advisor’s lips was a death sentence. It would destroy all your plans, all of the work you had done to get here-

“You are, it would seem, a woman who can protect herself.”

No. No, no, no, no, no, no. This went against everything. This ruined everything. You needed your freedom- the ability to move around, to plot and scheme, to contact your mentor, to breathe-

“So, it appears, my lady, that you have a proposal.”

This couldn’t be happening. Your breath came hard and fast in your chest. Dark spots clouded your vision. You were supposed to kill the king, not marry him.

“And I’m afraid the King has already decided.”

You couldn’t say no.

With the poison bottle weighing heavy in your pocket, you looked up to meet the advisor’s eyes. Blood roared in your ears. For the second time that day, your legs began to shake.

“I-” you tried to draw in a breath. You had no choice, “I accept.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #killer queen fic

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starogeorgina · 9 months

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#house of the dragon #Aemond Targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #Aemond Targaryen edits #Aemond Targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon edit #my edits #killer queen

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ozzgin · 7 months

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Yandere Jane The Killer with Female Reader who is like Mary Bloody Queen from Identity V(It’s ok if you don’t know Identity V. I adored Mary/BloodyQueen. I feel like Jane The Killer would simp over her. So yes, Yandere Jane x Bloody Queen Reader.)

Sadly I’ve never played nor heard of the game, but it seems there are several essays of character analysis for this Madame Red, which makes it easier for me. I think I have a good idea about her and I do agree the two of them would make a tragic but well fitted pair.

Yandere! Creepypasta x Bloody Queen! Reader

Featuring Jane the Killer and a female reader that strongly resembles the Bloody Queen. TW: May contain violence

Jane has made a promise. She vowed to dedicate herself to a single purpose, that of seeking vengeance. She has abandoned her previous life, the friends she’s known and any hope of normalcy given her fate of an unfortunate test subject. Yes, that much is clear to her. So why, oh why, is she in such pitiful state right now? She’s crouching like a thief in utmost secrecy, hoping to catch the smallest glimpse of your presence. That’s all she needs, nothing more. Why is your sight so soothing to her? She cannot answer. Perhaps it was the way she instantly recognized the look in your eyes, because it’s very much similar to that of her own. The bitterness, the betrayal, the resentful hate boiling within the depths of your black irises, ready to spill over. You’ve been hurt in your past.

She had hoped she’d be satisfied with just observing you from afar. With each day, however, a certain longing seems to bloom and branch out, with powerful tendrils grasping her heart and clouding her mind. She sees your lonely figure and can’t help but fervently wish she could take away your misery. Your only sin is being naïve. Misunderstood. She wants to claw and tear this treacherous world apart, until all that’s left is you and her and…peace.

Once you start dating, Jane is over the moon. Being with you feels like a nightmarish veil has been lifted, and her former self, buried and forgotten in time, digs its way out once again. Warmth floods her body and her lungs expand with fresh, calming air. On your end, you’ve always been somewhat egoistic and burdened by greed. Yet this time it’s different. It’s a paradoxical, directed egoism. You’ve selfishly fallen in love with this mysterious, ghastly stranger that spontaneously invaded your life and your senses. Her bottomless orbs glisten with adoration, but something isn’t quite right about it. It’s twisted, unhinged, a maddening frenzy that traps your being into submission. You don’t mind. You’re a glutton for many things, and nothing is sweeter than unadulterated love. It’s the loyalty that you always desired.

Alas, she hasn’t abandoned her goal. Once you become aware of her intentions, you offer to join her on this intriguing quest of revenge. You can’t say no to such a story of redemption. You arrange your sleeves in the mirror and listen to the worried warnings of your partner. Jane would rather be certain of your safety. Once the outfit appears to be of your desired standard, you linger before your reflection and thoughtfully trace the stitches on your neck. “Have I ever told you why they call me Madame Red?” You turn back towards the pallid woman. A chuckle escapes your mouth upon noticing her nervous expression. “You needn’t concern yourself with my wellbeing. I have faced my fears once and defied my fate.” You pause and search for the words, muddled up in distant memories. This time, when the guillotine falls, you shall be the executioner. At last, it’s your turn to lay the final piece as you glare victoriously at your opponent and announce it: checkmate.

#creepypasta #yandere creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta headcanons #jane the killer #yandere #yandere x reader #jane the killer x reader #identity 5 #bloody queen

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skyfall8600 · 5 months

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Killer Queen

Chapter 3: Blood-stained

Series Masterlist

Warnings: murder, g on g making out, poison, needles, mentions of abuse

“She’s a motherfucking killer queen, a psychopath at 17

A beauty in a blood-stained dress

She’ll fill your heart with kerosene

And light you up ‘till you can’t breathe

If you cross her path you just might end up dead”

She looked down at her list, two names already crossed off, and she debated who would be unfortunate enough to be next. Of course, the decision came naturally once she was back at school, pretending to be shaken and crying over Justin on Chelsea’s shoulder.

The girl’s cheerleading uniform was somehow fresh and untainted with sweat despite just finishing cheer practice. Apparently girls like Chelsea, who are always perfect and put together, would rather be caught dead than be in a sweaty uniform. Her daddy made enough that buying another uniform…. Perhaps even enough to wear multiple everyday of the week was like nothing to them.

“Oh honey, I know it’s so hard— Justin was so hot and I can’t believe he’s gone!” Chelsea whispered into Y/n’s ear.

“I don’t know what he was doing in that house, he was suppose to meet me in the park so we could… you know.”

Chelsea‘s body stiffened slightly and Y/n knew that the little blonde cheerleader was blushing. Just like how she was on that dreadful night, overhearing what the boys had planned and did nothing to stop them.

There was a reason why Chelsea was so high up in the list; and it had a lot more to do with than her actions on that night. No. Chelsea Van Martin was an upright hypocrite bitch.

The rumour started back in grade school for a young Chelsea Van Martin…. Secret lesbian in hiding. Y/n didn’t have anything wrong with that, queer, gay, straight—as long as you were a decent human you were in a good books. But Chelsea was anything but good.

Chelsea’s torment of other students may have been a way to suppress her own confusion with her feelings, but her specific target of other girls who were different or liked the same sex as brutal.

“I’m sure there’s another boy that can tickle your fancy—“ Chelsea tried to say, playing it off in some weird attempt to cheer Y/n up.

“Urgh— that’s the thing. It’s always boy after boy and it’s like I’m never…. They never… god Chi-Chi, I can’t explain it.”

Chelsea nodded, “If it helps, I know how you feel. God, the amount of boys I’ve had to fake it for.”

The two girls erupted in soft giggles between, almost the perfect opportunity for Y/n to make her move.

The plan was simple, befriend Chelsea, make her question herself and slowly break her down. There at her lowest point, the little cheerleader would give her final bow.

Sifting her eyes, Y/n moved her hands to slide against Chelsea’s wrists. She saw the blonde inhale deeply, her eyes now shifting to look around them all alone under the bleachers.

“You shouldn’t have to fake it. You should find something you understands you, who’ll make you feel every pleasure possible… almost like your heart might explode on itself.” Y/n spoke gently, bringing one hand to rest on Chelsea’s now fast beating heart. “Exactly like that.”

The girl remained speechless but didn’t protest any movements.

“Plus, I doubt faking it sounds as hot as the real thing. Imagine the uncontrollable breaths coming from your mouth—“

“Stop it.” She snipped quickly but again didn’t move.

“I’ve seen how you look at me Chi-chi, where your eyes wonder and a blush creeps on.” She whispers closer to her ear now, their faces only inches apart. “I couldn’t have gone through shit without you…. We’ll just be two friends finding comfort in each other.”

“Just friends— I’m not a— a—“

“Neither am I.” Y/n reassure her, “But we both have something in common.”

“Like what?”

“Boys can’t satisfy us, and here we are so desperate for release we have to turn to a friend.”

Their lips almost brush over each other. “No one can find out—“

“Oh I know, I’m counting on no one ever finding out we were here. Under the bleachers. Together.”

And with that final word, Y/n was almost taken aback by how fiercely Chelsea crashed her lips into her. The longer they stayed in that position, the more demanding and reckless Chelsea became. Her hands gripping her body so tightly, Y/n was sure she’d have bruises along her body.

She couldn’t deny that it was probably the most intense and passionate make out of her life, but Y/n had a task to complete.

The filled syringe she had stashed in her back pocket was now in her hand. The GHB drug inside would provide Chelsea with a brief sense of confidence and relaxation before drowsing off in silent agony. The dosage high enough to ensure her heart imploded within minutes.

Y/n moved her mouth to nip along Chelsea’s neck. The girl too breathless to really know the differences between teeth nipping at her skin and the sharp pinch of a needle.

Mere minutes later, when Chelsea was all but rubbing her most private part on Y/n’s thigh. She muffled Chelsea’s burning screams with her mouth and felt as her body overheated.

The thud of her body hitting the ground was accompanied but a crack coming from her left shoulder.

Y/n stood there for a moment, wiping her mouth and spitting on the girls dead body. Catching her breath slowly she wrote a note, mimicking Chelsea’s handwriting as best as possible.

‘Only death gives me peace over what I have done. Ashamed of my attraction to females and more repulsed by my actions to other girls like me’

She placed the note scrunched up in the dead girls hand and made her way back to the trailer park. She wanted to feel bad, to feel anything other than rage but she couldn’t. She knew how Chelsea treated any person who was different, her previous self included. The worst she could recall was the use of small tweezers against Georgia Wilson’s stitches the one year she fell while riding her bike. Chelsea laughed and claimed that since Georgia was a lesbian she should’ve loved that Chelsea have her another slit to use.

It was repulsive… it was idiotic.

A beeping car horn came from behind her, tires screeching.

“What the fuck! Look where your driving you stupid—“

“Are you okay?” A male voice cut off her screaming. That voice—It caught her off guard but when an opportunity prevented itself she knew better than to not take it.

“So do you normally try to run over girls, Harrington?”

“Harri— you again.” He turned the engine off and forced himself to move as quick a as possible.

“Yeah. Me again, you know I’m starting to think you have a thing for trying to knock me over.”

Keep it playful.

His smile was sweet and almost made her forget everything. Almost.

“Scouts honour— I had no intention of running you over.” He joked, saluting two fingers to his head. “Besides, it’s a bit late for a pretty girl to be walking around the streets alone.”

She tried hard to not let his bad attempt at flirting affect her, however the blush creeping along her cheeks.

“Bold of you to assume I can’t take care of myself Harrington.”

His eyes widened ever so slightly but his smile remained.

“Of course, I apologise— however what sort of gentleman would I be if I didn’t at least offer to drive you home?”

“Especially after almost hitting me—“

“I did no such thing!” He laughed so dramatically, “Come on, won’t be my first stop of the night. Sit up in the front and ignore the sleeping brats in the back.”

She cocked her head to the side. Suddenly unsure of herself and the situation.

“Oh, I promised Dustin and Max I’d drive them home from the Wheeler’s house. Don’t exactly want them riding their bikes this late.”

She nodded and was surprised that her body moved without instruction to take his offer. “Thanks I guess, I um… live in the trailer park with Max so at least it’s not adding to your trip.”

She saw no judgement in his eyes, no disgust or rejection. He just continued to smile and hummed to himself when he sat behind the wheel, keeping the radio music down to a soft buzz as to not disturb the sleeping children in the back.

Perhaps this Steve was different to the one she remembered…

Her thoughts were cut short when Steve coughed out embarrassingly, “I actually didn’t catch your name…”

Her own smile vanished. “Y/n.” Was all she told him. And that was all he needed to know; if he couldn’t remember who she was prior to the change then perhaps he was no different than before.

————————————- ————————————- ————————————- ————————————-

Hi everyone! It’s been a while….. but I’ve got my passion and time back. If you’d like to be removed from tagging fully understandable. It’s been almost a full year….

Taglist: @loving-and-dreaming @sweetsweetjellybean @azaleapeachberry @cutiecusp @sheisjoeschateau @tinydonkeysforlife @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @gothvamp1973 @taeddybearkim @whoreforhowl

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #munson!reader #thriller #skyfall8600 #killer queen

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