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#dead by daylight
maxcaulfield · a day ago
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more mandy doodles bc the brainworms are writhing so much
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edgion-the-great · a day ago
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Out in force today are we
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botanyspirit · 8 hours ago
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have you two met the new survivor yet?
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J: He sucks.
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Nea: No one asked you to take off your clothes. Stop volunteering to take your shirt off!
David: Can’t ‘ear you. Shirt’s over my ears.
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plush-rabbit · a day ago
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Chop Chop
Picture Perfect Series
TW: noncon, murder
Word Count: 4.1K
A/N: Ive had this chapter in my head for a while
-
Daniel sits at his desk, typing an article about a highschool fire that had happened last night. He scoffs at the immaturity of it all. Don’t they know that the school had cameras and that they’ll be caught? He isn’t sure what it is with today’s youth that has them thinking they’re untouchable but then again, that is how all kids act- thinking they are higher than life, that somehow they will prevail above all else without a scratch. It’s cute in a way that a child will show what they believe is a work of art but is only just scribbles and crayon too dark and unshapely. They’re wrong, but it’s cute. He brushes his nose with a thumb and rolls his tongue in his mouth, feeling the grooves of his molars as a phone on the other side of the office rings. He’s at the last sentence, typing how the school will be taking action once the suspects are apprehended.
There’s a part of him that wonders how his child will turn out. You must have already aborted or miscarried the first, and he’s sure that you're already on the pill, but maybe he could swap them for placebos? He isn’t sure. You’ve been getting a bit too smart for his liking. However, he doesn’t want to dwell on that thought for too long.
There’s a knock on his desk and he turns with a bored expression to face a co-worker. Randall. He quickly flashes a tired smile and rolls a bit away from his desk to face him. “Randy, what can I help you with?” He isn’t the most charming, but he’s friendly enough for people to approach him.
“Dan, hey-” Daniel bites his tongue at the nickname- “you got any news yet on our residential killer?” There’s some sick, twisted thing about Randall. Morbid curiosity, perhaps. Some weird desire to know all the gore-y details, teetering on the edge of jokes about what it is that Ghostface does to his victims- even playing around with assault, curiosity so forefront that it’s clear he’s got some sick fantasies. “It’s just that it seems like it's been a while. You think he finally moved on?”
“You know, I'm not entirely sure. I haven’t gotten anything yet and you know me-” he flashes another smile and immediately drops it when he turns towards his desk- “always on the fast track to news stories.”
Randall leans over, skimming over the text and letting out a sympathetic hiss of pain. “Fucking kids, man. Always up to some shit.” Daniel responds with a simple agreement. “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask-” there’s a certain edge to his voice that has Daniel turning his head- “you still with that partner of yours?” His eyes flitter over to meet Daniel’s but he’s unable to hold eye contact.
There’s something that ignites inside of Daniel that makes him square his shoulders and think about giving Randall a personal meeting with Ghostface, but he only smiles tightly and twitches his jaw. “Tell me how kids and Ghostface lead up to a conversation about my partner?”
Awkward laughter fills the empty space but quickly dies down and many, stuttered apologies that leave the other man’s lips. “I just- you mentioned the other day how y’all were trying and I- you know, I was curious?” He says in a breathless tone of voice, clear discomfort written over his face.
“What you want to know how I’ve been fucking my partner?” There’s a certain edge to his voice that makes the other man squirm. Even if his obsession with you leads more into domination rather than a caring partner, you’re still his and he doesn’t want people to know the intricacies and inner parts of the relationship. There’s a pause as the other man tries to find his words and it makes him upset. He’s backed into a corner and suddenly he acts so scared like if he weren’t a sick fuck. “Well?”
A hand runs through the man’s short blonde hair. “Come on, Danny. I didn’t mean it like that,” he says now fidgeting in his stance.
Hearing Randall call him Danny, makes him want to take a pen into the man’s eye. “What if we weren’t together, huh? What? You’d go sniffing after my seconds? Is that it?”
He can feel the stares that the other coworkers are giving him and he allows it for now. “Danny, I didn’t-”
Suddenly, another co-worker pops up, standing in front of the desk and placing their hands behind the monitor. “Hey, hey. Why don’t we calm down.” Tatum turns to Daniel and it’s enough to make the man calm down. “Come on, Danny-” it leaves a different taste in his mouth compared to the other- “we both know Randy here-” they jerk their head towards the reporter clearly too red to breathe properly- “is just itching for all those juicy details. But I do have to admit, I am curious. Before you couldn’t shut up about them. And now? Well dang, makes me think that they left your sorry ass.” Their smile is gleaming, sharp and fun, and it’s everything that Daniel wants.
It’s everything that you were before him.
There’s hesitation on his end. Even before you both started dating and when you only knew of his alter’s infamousy, he still referred to you as his. Now, however, it’s as if the spark is gone. “I ain’t gon’ spill shit.” There's a smile attached to his words to make sure the cruelty of it isn’t too off-putting.
“Come on, at least give us a hint as to how they’re doing. They still cute? Still sweet as- how did you put it- ah! Right, still sweet as honey?” Tatum holds a teasing grin, leaning over the desk, Daniel can’t help but dart his eyes to the few buttons that baits him into looking at their cleavage.
“I thought the phrase was “sweet as sugar?”” Randy interjects, earning a smile from Tatum and a roll of the eyes from Daniel.
“They’re fine,” Daniel is quick to put the attention back on him. “We’ve uh- been going through it. Moving in is tough on the both of us.” It’s quiet for a moment and he isn’t sure whether it’s been emotions that’s been piling up from the time together or having a lack of outlet that isn’t you or murder, but the silence is enough for him to continue without further pressing. “They’ve been jumpy lately and it’s made it difficult for any type of- you know, intimacy.” He scoffs and his smile takes on something more grotesque. “They’ve been a real bummer. Fucking crying and shit, and I don’t know if it’s undiagnosed depression or something, but they’ve been lacking in self care and it’s fucking gross.”
A hand touches him and he realizes that Tatum has moved away from the monitor to beside him. “You can’t be mean to them about that, Danny,” the way they say his name sends a wave of heat over his neck. “I bet they’re trying, and well, no offense,” their caring tone has suddenly changed into something more playful, “you aren’t that easy to hang around either.”
His mouth goes dry, and he feels a nudge to his leg from Randall who gives him a certain look. He takes in a deep breath and fixes his gaze onto Tatum’s lips. A cute cupid’s bow that frames them so sweetly that he can feel a wave of heat in his stomach. “Whatever. If it wasn’t for the lease, I’d have dump them, by now, but when we do fuck, it’s decent enough to stick around.”
A hand puckishly swats at his back and lingers for a bit too long, curving slowly around his neck before fleeting away. “Well if it helps, I’ll be single for the foreseeable future and Randall here already admitted that he’d like those sloppy seconds.” Tatum’s smile lingers before turning away to Randall who looks a bit too excited at the proposition.
“Give it about a month, I’m sure with that on the line, he’ll find some way to make them break up with him,” Randall adds, a bit of wickedness on his tongue. “Ain’t that right, dear, old Dan?” He kicks at his leg once more, before moving off of the desk. “Anyways, I’m out. I need to go talk to the editor about an article. Later, losers!” Randall sticks his tongue out and gives a peace sign before rounding the corner, only to stop in his tracks and curse.
“Watch your mouth, Rand,” Daniel calls out, sneaking a glance to Tatum who lifts their head and moves quickly to where Randall stands. “Hey, Tate, where are you-” Daniel asks, surprised at Tatum having moved away, but then again as reporters, gossip is something actively sought out. It’s only when Tatum curses, that Daniel stands up, and when he turns, he’s looking at you holding a neatly packaged box- bento or something, he’s sure. Your name is on his tongue and it’s the first time he’s ever sounded so guilty.
“You forgot your lunch,” you say in a strained voice and you walk past the other two giving them small smiles in a greeting to thrust your arms forward to Daniel. “I thought I’d drop it off.” There are unshed tears in your eyes and when the box is in his hands, you leave immediately, not even bothering to tell him goodbye. It’s silent between the three and it’s only broken when he curses under his breath.
-
The mask fits perfectly on his skin, the soft cloth nothing more but a familiar kiss on his neck. He isn’t sure what he’s doing here. Well that’s a lie. He knows what he’s going to do, but he’s unsure why he’s here rather than trying to get you to talk to him.
You’ve decided to spend the night with a friend, claiming that it’s their birthday, but even you didn't sound too convinced at the lie. It crossed his mind that maybe you were having an affair, but what is he supposed to do? After you heard him insult you to his coworkers, you wouldn’t answer his calls. So now, he’s climbing into the window of Tatum’s room, and making sure to not knock anything over.
It’s not his first time inside their house. He knows exactly which floor to avoid, where to start to feel around for the coffee table with an impossibly sharp edge. He knows which door to open and to open quickly in order to avoid the squeaking. He knows how light of a sleeper they are.
The bed dips under his weight, and just like last time, they sleep without a shirt, their nipples perked and a thin blanket over their stomach. They always did mention that they have an unusually high body temperature. He removes a glove, and sets it on their stomach.
“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath, creating a small fog inside his mask. “You really are hot.” He can feel his cock grow hard, and he clumsily removes the blanket that he’s trapped between his and Tatum’s body. A thin veil of cloth covers their sex and his smile is ever growing, crazed and hungry. “It’s been too long.”
Without wasting a moment, he frees his cock. He entertains the idea of the tight fit, the screaming and the pain that will make them wake, but he also wonders how they taste, the thick, slow drool of their arousal, and lewd moans that will only further fuel him. He brandishes his knife and the flat of it is dragged along their thigh and hooks under the cloth of their underwear and without much trouble, the cloth is torn from their body.
A free hand reaches underneath and fingers at their hole. It’s tight, but there’s just enough room for him to wiggle inside and massage at their gummy walls. It isn’t long until he hears the familiar squelching, the loving call to his ears as arousal coats his finger in a thin layer.
Tatum shakes their head, the middle of their brows furrowing and with a sadistic smile, he slips his finger out and grabs his knife with arousal around the handle. “Wake up, Tates,” he coos, leaning over, too impatient to wait to even let them wake up on their own. “Come on, Tates.”
In slow motion, he watches as they open their eyes, slowly, still bleary with sleep and still too tired to register what is going on. A hand rubs against their face and they wake up with a yawn and tears in their eyes. He lifts himself, Tatum’s body twisting to turn on the lamp beside the bed, and they blink rapidly. “What’s-” they don’t have time to finish the sentence when their eyes grow accustomed to the light and they see who is on top of them. Ghostface feels his heart beat in excitement when they scream and squirm under him.
“Hi Tatum, ready for a good fuck?” he leans over and he can feel the heat of their sex throb against his. “Because I am and if you’re lucky, I might even let you live.” To hell with prepping them, he needs this now. He grabs himself and presses his cockhead against their hole and their screaming, the moment finally becoming real for them.
“Oh god, please! I’m begging you!” Tatum shouts, their screams loud and deep and has him striking his palm against their cheek. Their sobs are loud and Ghostface is cutting off the remainder of their clothes, his hands harsh against their soft body, gripping at their breasts and massaging at the mounds. “I’ll give you anything you want, just please-” a hiccup disrupts their words and he’s unzipping his pants, moving the robe to the side and releasing his cock from it’s confines. Tatum’s foot kicks at his thigh and he brandishes the knife, stabbing it and dragging it beside their pillow, stuffing falling out as the cotton tears. Tatum lets out a scream that Ghostface immediately smothers with the ripped pillow.
“One more fucking scream, and I swear that I’ll rip you a new hole and fuck that one, you goddamn bitch,” he seethes, and it’s enough for the thrashing and screaming to stop, immediately replaced by sniffling and whining. “That’s much better.”
He’s wondered what it would be like to kiss them, to feel the salty taste of tears in their mouth as he pressed his lips over them, but he can’t risk a reveal of himself. He leans over, and his cock is slipped inside of Tatum and they scream and it only pushes them to rock further inside. “Fuck you’re tight,” he hisses, feeling something warm drip down his cock. To hell with it. He lifts a portion of his mask up and presses it against Tatum’s swollen lips and the taste is… off. He pulls away and he fixes his mask. He’s stopped rocking his hips and when he pulls out of them, Tatum, sobbing and turning on their side, his cock isn’t as erect as it is with you, it isn’t flaccid, but there’s no excitement.
“What the fuck,” he wonders out loud. He’s thought about this- creeping inside of Tatum’s home, fucking them and seeing their reaction the next day, seeing how they’d react, and yet, with the opportunity presented in front of him and his cock still covered in arousal and blood, there’s no spark. It’s not like it usually is with you. Fuck. Tatum isn’t you and for some fucked, deranged reason, he wants you. He clears his throat and Tatum’s quiet sobbing stills. “Change of plans, Tatum, you weren’t nearly the good fuck I thought you were.”
Tatum turns, peeking through the space of the bend in their arm and they watch as he raises the knife in the air and lets it pierce into their skin. Blood rushes out, and they keep twisting but he overpowers them, and they rest on their back, and his knife is digging in between their shoulder blades and there is a sickening crack in the air.
-
With heavy bags under his eyes, he enters his apartment. He drops his backpack beside the door and he can hear the early chirping of the birds. He’ll count his blessings if he managed to remain undetected, but right now, he rather not do much other than sleep. Of course, being him, he has things to do before he can rest.
He grabs the backpack and walks into his room, opening the closet and dropping to his knees. His hands scour the space, pushing things out of the way and shifting his hands around until he finds the piece of wood with a certain groove. He pulls and an empty space of black blends with the closet darkness. Gently, the backpack is placed inside and he uses the flashlight of his phone to make sure the covering is secured and looks no different than the rest of the wall.
Forcing himself to stand, he goes to lock the front door. Paranoia scratches inside of him, acid burning his tongue and a headache forming until the familiar click of the lock is in place. When he turns his head, he finds your bag on the end table.
You’re home.
Walking around the couch, he finds you curled up, asleep with the throw blanket under your head. He frowns. He wonders when you got back. Why you came either so early or so late, depending on the time. Why did you even come back at all? It's no surprise, it’s a week day, you have commitments you need to tend to. He sighs and sits on the floor in front of you, knees bent and arms circling around them as he leans back to turn his head to look at you.
Has he really ruined you? Has he taken what was an already anxious person, but with a smile so wide that it attracted him and twisted and broken them until they were nothing but a shell of their former self? What had your friends said about your recent change? Do they know about your encounters with Ghostface? Do they know that he has a mask and that he wanted to roleplay? Do you know? Or at least have an inkling that it could be him? No. He’s made sure to at least not interact with you for a while, but maybe that should change. The whole fiasco with you listening in on him rant about you has already pushed you away and when he sent you a message, you didn’t reply to him. His hand runs down the side of your face, your skin imperfect in little ways that makes him lick his lips and let out a shuddering breath. Maybe Ghostface should pay you a visit. Just something quick and fun- for him, of course- in order to make you run into his arms for comfort. That’s all. He needs you back.
With a groan, he shimmies his hands under your body and lifts you bridal style. You curl against his chest, your face hidden and the floor creaks under him as he walks to the bedroom. His hand curves against the back of your head once he reaches the doorframe, the wood scratching along his knuckles, but protecting you from that little injury. It surprises even himself. Carefully, you’re set on the bed, your body still curled even though you’re free from his grasp. The light switch is loose between his fingertips and he groans- another thing to fix himself. The fan spins slowly before turning on, and filling the room in cool air. He shimmies himself out of his pants, kicking them to the side and running a hand through his hair. There’s no use pulling out the comforter only to have it half unused, so he grabs a blanket at the foot of the bed, clutching it in his arms as the bed dips under him.
He lays on his back, the blanket covering the both of you and and slowly, he turns his head to your sleeping frame. It’s not guilt that he feels for all of what he’s done to you, but he can’t help but feel melancholic about it all. You fear him and that’s enough, but you also fear him. It was never supposed to be like that. You were supposed to fall in love with him- so dependent on him that you’d never leave him. Yet, he and you are the ones pushing each other away.
You shift in your sleep, your arms bending and hands curling underneath the pillow. You whine and there’s the sign of you beginning to wake up. You shift and shut your eyes so tight that creases form between your brows. He wants to watch you, see how you'd react to being in bed, knowing that he carried you, watching and realizing that he was watching you sleep.
Does he have to apologize to you? He’s sure it would make you feel better, but he doesn’t want to. You let out a contend hum and he watches as your eyes flutter open. You see him, and you look so sad. A hand raises, and he goes to cup your cheek, but you turn away, hiding your face in the pillow and he hates how small that has left him.
“How was last night?” He doesn’t want to apologize. He won’t. But he doesn't want the tense air to linger. He doesn’t want to see the way that you pout, and feel how uncomfortable the air gets because you refuse to talk to him. You peer back at him, and he’s glad that you’re the type to feel awkward with apologies. You always seem to make everything easier for you.
“I don’t like the things that you said,” you whisper without looking away from him. He clenches his jaw- he spoke too soon. “I- You wanted to date me. I tried to push you away, but you kept persisting. You were the one who wanted me to move in with you.”
“You were crying the next day. Whining about your nightmares-”
“They’re not just nightmares!” You say loudly, your weight supporting on your hands as you rise. Your eyes widen and you look away, sitting with your legs pulled to your chest. His eyes widen and his breath stills. “They feel real. I- When I talked about the fact that we rushed into this, you got mad,” you hiss out the last word and he can hear the strain on your voice. “And now, you go on and bitch about me to your coworkers and it’s embarrassing,” you finish with a heavy sigh. You look at him, and for some reason, you feel so far away from him. “Am I just a decent fuck to you?” Daniel doesn’t answer, because he doesn’t know how. You scratch around the shell of your ear, your nervous tics finally shining out and he comes to sit beside you. “I’m sure we can work something out with the lease, but my friend did mention that I could room with them for the next couple of months.” You twist the side of your shirt and he can see the faint outline of the tag.
“I don’t want you to leave,” he murmurs, his head resting on your shoulder.
“You act like you do,” you retort.
“I don’t want anyone else, but you. I just- Look, life is shit and I know I’m a piece of shit and I’ve ruined you, but you’re the one good thing that has happened to me and I-'' he sucks in a deep breath and the words fall flat. He won’t say it.
“You need to start treating me like a partner, then, Danny.” He won’t say it, and because you’re so much better and worse than him, he never has to.
“Yeah,” he breathes out. It’s silent and he’s growing tired by resting his head on your shoulder. You’re still and when he pulls away, he can see just how tired you are. “Do you want to go to that new restaurant tomorrow? You know, the one with the theme of bears?” You turn your head and you smile at him, and without thinking, he leans in and closes the gap between the two of you. His phone rings and when he pulls away, giving you an apologetic smile, he looks down at the screen. A missed call from Randall, and a new message that vibrates in his hand telling him to call him now. He tosses the phone and before you can ask, he’s kissing you again and you taste so much better than anything he’s ever had in his life.
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slashingdisneypasta · a day ago
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One of my favourite things to think about is the Entity one day managing to get Jason, and he just outright ignores all the rules that Killers have the follow. Like, he'll go ahead and (Somehow??) get to the campfire and slaughter everyone there, he'll make it into trials that aren't his, he'll kill other killers (Starting with you, fried one.), and he'll probably escape the whole damn realm, after all that. Like, Jason is just that effortlessly powerful. Nothing can stop him. Michael steps the fuck back, when Jason arrives.
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unevilart · a day ago
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the inherent wifeism of the huntress
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resileon · 2 days ago
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Me, trying to work on a gen at the start of the trial: I wonder who the killer is...
Wraith, somehow finding me immediately:
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keinacea · a day ago
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My entry for the art contest on
@lilithomen
s discord server. That thing took me 13+ hours, countless nights and headaches. So have a Wraith mid blighting process
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nakeddavidclub · 2 days ago
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Hey, Claudette. Do you remember that scene in Final Destination where the girl gets hit by a bus out of nowhere?
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ask-the-dweets · 2 days ago
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🎉 Thanks for 200 Followers!!! 🎉
  Thanks so much you guys ;w; I managed to hit a milestone here and on my DbD twitter at around the same time! (took me a while to finish the milestone pic though) And I’m so excited and thankful!~ Thanks you guys for all of your support, I’ve been having such a great time being a part of the community and drawing the boys.
I hope to continue to bring you DbD art and stream content for a long time to come X3
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sleepydaydreamz · 9 hours ago
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Cups of Sugar (41)
Fandom: Dead By Daylight
Ghostface x Female Reader
Rated M for violence, language and smut
***
Another gust of cold wind hit Danny’s body and he quickly pulled his jacket closer to him. The days were starting to become colder and he was getting a little stir crazy with going to work and then back home everyday. He hadn’t stalked anyone for so long and although he yearned to go out and find someone, there wasn’t a single person that had caught his attention.
Walking up the steps to the Roseville Gazette, he saw Rene up ahead holding the door for him when two figures approached him.
“Good morning, Mr. Olsen. Can you please come with us down to the police station?”
Fiona King smiled at him with her hands in her pockets while her partner kept his hands to his sides. Danny’s heart thudded against his chest as he looked around the parking lot, spotting their familiar SUV, along with two others. 
“What for?” asked Danny.
“We just have a few questions for you,” said Fiona’s partner. Danny raised an eyebrow at him, irritated with himself that he hadn’t looked him up sooner.
“I see,” nodded Jed. “And, who might you be?
“Jonah Hart, federal agent,” he said. “Now, if you could do us a favor-”
“Is there something wrong?” asked Jed. “If this is about the articles I write, I’m not really allowed to speak on it without my editor’s consent.”
“Oh, it’s not about that,” said Fiona. “I promise, just a few more questions at the station. That’s not going to be a problem, is it?”
Danny tightened his jaw, wondering if this was the moment that the Ghostface had finally gotten caught. He had thought of this moment only a couple of times but he didn’t think it would happen like this. Had they figured out that the same type of film he used was the same as Ghostface’s? But he had been so careful, making sure to buy the most common brand possible…
“Not a problem at all,” shrugged Jed. “Can I just go inside real quick? I need to tell my boss I’m going to be late.”
“That won’t be necessary,” said Jonah. “We’ve already informed him of your interview. Here, we’ll give you a ride.”
They aren’t arresting me, thought Danny. They probably don’t have a warrant for my arrest either. I could just tell them to fuck off but that would only put more suspicion on Jed. Fuck! It’s fine, everything’s fine, I can’t keep them waiting any longer.
Danny turned his head toward Rene who was giving him a worried look. He smiled and rolled his eyes, giving her a wave goodbye. Following the agents into their vehicle, he could smell their shitty coffee and the wafting stench of clove cigarettes. Danny kept his composure calm and focused his gaze out the window; bored, but occasionally giving the agents curious glances. 
They finally pulled up to the police station and as Danny got out of the car, he saw Jonah rest his hand on his gun strapped to his hip. Fiona went ahead in front while Jonah walked so closely behind Danny, he could feel his hot breath on his neck. 
Fiona held the door open for him and when he walked inside, she pointed toward the front desk.
“You’ll need to check in your bag and-what is it this time, Hastings?” said Fiona.
Danny raised his eyebrows as the detective scowled at him while he motioned for Fiona to come with him. The two walked behind one of the doors but Danny could see them talking through the small glass window. Hastings rubbed the side of his face as he talked to Fiona while the agent looked at him in fury. Turning around, she gave a quick hit to the door, making everyone closest to them jump in surprise. 
Danny’s heart began to speed up again as Fiona slammed the door open with her car keys in hand. 
“Hart, we need to leave, now,” she said.
“But, wait, what about the interview with Olsen?” asked Hart.
“There’s no time for that! I’ll explain everything in the car.”
Hart gave Danny one last suspicious glance before following after his partner. The two agents quickly got into their SUV as they sped out of the parking lot, leaving Danny staring after them in bewilderment.
“Finally, they’re gone,” said Hastings from behind Danny. “Acting like they made progress here when everyone knows they didn’t do a damn thing.”
Danny turned his head to see the detective muttering into his coffee while the receptionist absentmindedly nodded her head.
“Why did they leave so suddenly?” asked Jed. “Did something happen?”
“Turns out the Ghostface found himself a new town to play in,” said Hastings, taking another sip. “Would make sense since he hasn’t killed for a while now.”
 “Where has he gone, what city?”
“More like what state,” said Hastings. “They’ve found evidence of him in Ohio, same signature and everything. Looks like your little friend has moved on.”
“He’s not my friend,” said Jed. 
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” scoffed Hastings. “Guess you’ll need to find something else to write about.”
The detective made his way to the back offices, leaving Danny alone and completely shocked. 
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered. “This has to be some kind of joke.”
Giving one last look around the police station, he used a nearby payphone to call himself a cab and took a seat on a stone bench outside. His stomach flip-flopped as he covered his mouth with his hand, trying to hold in his nervous laughter.
Is this a trap? he thought. What if they’re watching me right now? But they wouldn’t, not when they had me at the police station. It can’t be this easy, can it? Is this some kind of sign? Maybe I do need to leave, go somewhere else-
“Ya called for a cab?”
Danny looked up to see a man in a blue baseball hat driving a yellow cab. As he got up from the bench and into the car, he spotted a wrinkled paper bag with ‘The Honey Pot’ stamped onto it.
“Where to?” asked the driver.
“The Honey Pot,” said Danny. “It’s over on Park Avenue.”
“Funny, I was just there,” said the driver. “Good coffee.”
Jed nodded politely and stared out the car window while biting the nail on his thumb. 
Why would they give up so easily on me? There’s no way they had enough to detain me...then again, I haven’t gone out in a while. I can’t even remember the last time...Sweets’ friend? No, it was that pediatrician, wait, no, he was definitely a doctor…
“We’re here.”
Danny paid the driver and got out of the car, looking up and down the street before entering The Honey Pot. No black SUV was in sight and as he got in line to order, he still gave the occasional glance toward the parking lot.
“Hello sir, what can I get you today?”
A new worker, with the name tag that read Tyrell, stood behind the counter and Danny looked past him to see if he could catch you working in the back. 
“Just a small coffee, please,” said Jed. After paying, Danny took a seat near the counter, waiting for you to come out.
The bell to the shop rang and when Danny instinctively turned his head to look, his mouth dropped ever so slightly.
A young couple walked into the shop, holding hands and sneaking kisses as they stood at the end of the line. The man was American-Asian with an intricate viper tattoo that circled around the base of his neck. His maroon bomber jacket fitted his toned body perfectly and his long, black hair was tied back into a slick ponytail.
His girlfriend, who had a strong resemblance to Rene, wore an emerald green coat with black gloves and a matching beret. Her lips were full and rosy and she had perfectly straight, white teeth that sparkled when she laughed. 
Time slowed as Danny recognized the hazy, yellow glow that outlined both of their bodies. The way their voices carried throughout the shop resonated in Danny’s ears and he felt his palms start to get clammy as they finally made their way to the front of the line.
“Two hot chocolates and a slice of cheesecake please,” said the man. 
His voice made Danny shiver in pleasure as he imagined him screaming at the top of his lungs while he dug his blade into his chest. His girlfriend would probably cower in the corner or try to flee. But what if she decided to fight back? Danny grinned as he pictured her attempting to take his knife from him, only to fail as she would tumble to the floor. He would stab her through the throat and watch in amazement as both of their blood stained the carpet of their bedroom.
“Here’s your coffee,” said Tyrell, placing it in front of him. “Have a nice day!”
Danny smiled as he lifted his cup in thanks and kept his eye on the couple as they sat down in front of the main window. Grabbing his camera from his bag, he pretended to mess with it while secretly taking pictures of them.
It wasn’t long before you finally walked out to the front and started helping Tyrell with coffee orders. Danny watched as you patiently taught him how to pour the coffee designs, giving him words of encouragement and a smile that made Danny pout.
Serving the last round of customers, Roger went up to you and quickly whispered something in your ear. As soon as you turned around, Danny gave you a knowing smile and beckoned you over with his fingers. 
The scowl on your face made him grin wider and as you came up to him, he couldn’t help but tug on the corner of your apron.
“Busy?” he asked.
“Extremely.”
“Liar,” smirked Danny. “Let’s talk in private.”
He didn’t give you the chance to respond as he got up from his seat and grabbed your wrist. Heading into the back room, he made sure to close the door behind him while you looked up at him with your arms crossed.
“I’m not going to give you any more free food,” you said. 
“Yes you will, but that’s not important right now,” said Danny. “So, great news...I’m in the clear.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I never told you,” started Danny. “But there were a couple of federal agents that thought they could get the drop on me-”
“Wait, you had the actual FBI watching you?” you gasped. “For how long? Did they interview you? Were they watching me?”
“They’ve been watching me for a few weeks now, but I didn’t want to worry you,” said Danny, giving you a small boop on your nose. “I think they were watching you for a bit, but I’m pretty sure I was their target.”
“So, what? Are they here? Were you followed?” you asked.
“Relax, Sweets,” chuckled Danny. “Turns out there’s some other poser in Ohio they think is me. Which honestly makes sense; all killers usually migrate there eventually.”
“So there’s a copycat killer?”
“I-well, yes, but it’s not like he’s the real deal,” said Danny. “Whatever evidence they found, I’m sure it might be similar to mine but it’s nothing compared to what I do.”
“I dunno,” you sighed. “I mean, it’s not like it’s hard; doing what you do.”
You stepped to the side and pulled out a piping bag filled with light pink frosting from the fridge. You began to decorate the cupcakes that were on the counter while Danny felt his eye twitch in annoyance.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.
“You know,” you shrugged. “The mask you wear can be picked up at any costume store, you wear all black and you stab people pretty...normally?”
Danny narrowed his eyes as he grabbed you by the throat and pushed you up against the wall. 
“There is nothing normal about me,” he snarled. “Whoever this copycat piece of shit is, they don’t have any originality, no talent. They only got the feds attention because they were desperate.”
“Yeah Danny, real smart assaulting me in a public place,” you hissed. “You need to remember where you are, who you are.”
Danny bit his tongue and let go of your neck. He started to pace back and forth, his hands becoming more twitchy and agitated.
“You think I don’t know how to play as Jed? You were the one who fell for him! Don’t tell me what to do!”
“I don’t see why you’re getting upset all of a sudden,” you said. “If what you said is true, then the feds are gone; they’ll leave you alone.”
“No, no, no, it’s us now,” said Danny. “We’re partners, remember? Even if you wanted to leave me, I will never let you go. You mean too much to me.”
Danny wrapped his arms around you, ignoring the way you grumbled into his chest. As he rubbed your back, he looked through the small window on the door, keeping his eye on the lovely couple.
***
Hope you guys enjoyed the latest chapter! I would really appreciate if you could support and follow me at https://www.twitch.tv/gemini_jinx, gemini_jinx on tiktok, or donate at paypal.me/sleepydaydreamz 💖
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warmilkopi · 21 hours ago
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re-l mayer and rin yamaoka. for an art trade with @nlstr30k 💙
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