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scvrmqueen · 1 year

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Tag, You’re It - Danny Johnson

┊ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — one-shot.

┊ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒) ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — Danny Johnson x afab!reader.

┊ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — SMUT! dubious consent, descriptions of gore, vaginal sex, use of knife handle for penetration, dirty talk, unprotected sex, no aftercare, Danny is literally his own warning.

┊ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 2,982.

┊ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ I got this idea after listening to Tag, You’re It by Melanie Martinez. Takes place during Dead by Daylight. I don’t own the rights to Danny or DBD. You’re just trying to survive another trial when Danny proposes a little game.

“Oh, you were so close, kitten!” A mirthless chuckle slipped from the macabre figure perched above you, his hips pinning you to the frigid earth. Your struggles had promptly ceased once his steel blade found purchase against your throat.

“And to think, one more step and you would have been home free,” he tsked, blade digging further into your sensitive flesh to reveal a crimson stream. “Didn’t know you could be so cruel, kitten, trying to leave me on my lonesome without so much as a goodbye kiss.”

“Fuck you, Danny,” you spat, glaring into the shadowy abyss of black fabric that concealed his eyes. “Kill me and be done with it, I’m sick of playing your fucked up games.”

An audible gasp sounded beneath the foreboding mask, a gloved hand - the one not preoccupied with mutilating you - covering his heart in feigned shock. “Y/n you wound me! Where’s your fighting spirit, huh? C’mon, I know you have that ‘I’ll go out kicking and screaming’ final girl mentality.”

You were mere feet from a successful trial, sparing a glance toward the cement hatch. What anger bubbled in your chest was steadily replaced with fatigue, an overwhelming sense of feebleness rendering your fight or flight instinct futile. You pressed your scorched fingertips into the dirt beneath you. A shaky breath pierced through pursed lips, frustrated tears gathering in the corners of your eyes as you realized just how close you had been to besting the Ghost Face.

“Aw, doll. You’re so pretty when you cry for me,” Danny cooed, his blade smearing blood on your cheek as it moved to collect the pearly drops. “Tell you what, I’m feeling generous. Play one last little game with yours truly, and I’ll let you have the hatch.”

Mouth agape, you waited for the inevitable ‘ha, gotcha’ moment. When Danny remained silent - a phenomena in itself, you finally responded, “what game?”

“Atta girl.” He lowered his head until cheap plastic scraped your cheek, his faux mouth resting by your ear. Leather and copper flooded your senses, head reeling at the intimacy of his proximity. “You’re familiar with tag, aren’t you, doll?”

You scoffed, “tag?”

“That’s what I said, Y/n.” You could feel the deep chuckle rumble through his chest. “Try to keep up, sweet thing, you’re smarter than that. Now, if I catch you - and we both know I will - I get to do whatever I want with you.”

“But you won’t kill me?” The question was more breathless than you intended. Whatever he wanted? Your cooperation was founded on the promise of making it out alive. Still, you couldn’t help but hesitate. If Danny’s intention wasn’t to give you to the entity, what did he want?

“Cross my heart hope to die, kitten.” His words dripped with deranged glee, the rough edge to his voice sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll even give you a ten second head start, being the generous fella I am.”

“Fine,” you conceded. “Get the hell off me so we can get this over with.”

“There’s the Y/n I know and love.” A leather clad hand wrapped around your throat, using the leverage to drag you to your feet. You reluctantly complied, attempting to ignore the traitorous heat that pooled in your abdomen.

You sprinted in the opposite direction the moment he released you.

Aside from a guaranteed win, this game hardly differed from the demented reality of every trial. You were perpetually haunted by that damned mask - led to slaughter each time the sanctity of the campfire was torn away. Unlike your counterparts, your penchant for fighting back had earned Danny’s favor from day one. His insatiable obsession blossomed during your first trial, when you drove a jagged plank through his abdomen.

Had you predicted he would save you for last each trial, you wouldn’t have been so damn heroic.

Your lungs burned, legs aching as your pace gradually relented. You spared a glance over your shoulder to determine Danny’s proximity. Though momentarily relieved to be greeted by empty darkness, his absence ultimately proved equally troubling. Ghost Face was synonymous with stealth, often remaining undetected until his signature hunting blade was buried deep in your gut. It was impossible to determine where he prowled now.

Haddonfield offered little room to be chased. Eventually, you would have to loop back to the hatch in order to escape, a feat which would require you to pass through the decrepit homes. Though entering structures always proved to be a precarious gamble, remaining on the street much longer practically ensured your capture.

You bypassed the first few houses you passed with the intention of throwing Danny off your trail. Zig-zagging through abandoned vehicles, you staggered toward the Myers residence in hopes of a momentary reprieve. Hiding in the abandoned building was futile - Danny had prompted a game of tag after-all. The moment you ceased moving he would be there, his merciless shadows ensnaring you. You prayed slipping through the rooms undetected would buy you some time.

Pausing briefly upon entering, you attempted to regulate your rapid breathing in order to detect his presence. Satisfied, you darted into the kitchen to grab a butcher’s knife from the familiar wooden block. Danny hadn’t specified rules regarding self defense - his mistake. Should the occasion arise, you fully intended on making grabbing you a hellish feat.

No sooner had you grabbed the knife did a familiar dark chuckle sound from the doorway to the porch. You turned slowly towards the culprit, as if minor movements would shroud you from his gaze.

“Really, bunny? The Myer’s house? Tsk, never knew you were so cliché.” Well, at least you knew where he was now. Spinning on your feet, you sprinted back toward the main entrance. Knowing Danny, the moment you stepped out onto the porch he would be there to grab you, blade against your throat and arms encircling your waist. Hesitation would cost you precious seconds, leaving you to scamper up the stairway on shaky legs.

“Annndd going up the stairs?” His distant voice only caused you to increase your pace. “Y/n, haven’t I taught you to be better than those horror movie bimbos?”

As you reached the room with a large opening to the roof, you couldn’t resist screaming a hearse, “Fuck you, asshole!” Once on the roof, you would slip into the backyard and make a swift exit back to the hatch. You could taste victory on your tongue, beyond pleased to have outwitted Ghost Face.

Or at least that was the plan.

You hadn’t planned on Danny tackling you mere feet from the roof, his imposing figure weighing heavy on your back. Thrashing beneath him proved futile. He grabbed your wrists with little resistance, pinning your arms by your head. The cold hardwood was pressed roughly against your cheek, and from the awkward angle you watched as his mask lowered to your ear.

“Tag, you’re it.” His deep chuckle reverberated through your spine.

“Let me up, Danny, and I’ll gladly come get you.” Clutching the butcher knife tighter, you wriggled your ass slightly in hopes of providing a momentary distraction. A throaty groan sounded above you, his hips digging further into your own. His grasp loosened, and you used your remaining strength to twist on your back. You were quick to extend the blade toward him in a punishing stab. But Danny was always quicker.

“Feisty,” he growled, his hand encircling your wrist and slamming it to the ground with excessive force. A small yelp escaped you as the knife flew from your grasp.

“But I think you’re forgetting the rules, kitten. Naughty girl.” You were pinned beneath him once more, glare burning through his black mesh. “Let me remind you what happens when you don’t. fucking. listen.”

Danny shifted, capturing both your wrists in one hand, his knife skimming your waist. The cool steel scraped against your stomach as it lifted your shirt. Before you could even comprehend struggling, your hip burned with a familiar intensity. Searing pain crept up your side as Danny sliced into your sensitive flesh - a hiss escaping through clenched teeth in a poor attempt not to scream. The blade curved against you, shallow in its path but agonizing enough to demonstrate his wrath.

“Ah, perfect!” Danny leaned back on his heels to observe his work. Your eyes drifted down to observe a jagged “D” carved into the left side of your hip.

“You sick fuck!” You shouted, all thoughts of self preservation having dissipated. The wound would heal upon returning to the campfire, but it didn’t stop the blinding rage that permeated your senses.

“Oh, Y/n,” he snarled, using the blade to slice through the middle of your tank-top. “You have no idea just how sick I really am.” He traced the steel around the top of your exposed breasts, humming his approval as your breath hitched. The knife slipped beneath the thin fabric in the middle of your bra, exposing your chest to his ravenous gaze. A traitorous moan slipped from your lips - a wanton sound that you attempted to disguise as disgust by struggling beneath him.

“Danny-” his name tumbled from your throat with unintended reverence. Your voice trembled with thinly veiled desire, leaving you to pinch your lips together. You desperately hoped Danny hadn’t recognized your slip.

“Fuck, kitten, I love it when you say my name.” His hips bore into your own with bruising pressure, forcing a haphazard squeal from you in response. Admittedly, this wasn’t the first time that you had been in a compromising position beneath the killer. While the previous instances had ended in your untimely demise, this moment whispered promises of something more - something deep-seated that you could never come back from.

“You know, I can’t count how many times I’ve heard your screams of pain,” he muttered, the deep, guttural sound going straight to your core. “I can’t wait to hear what you sound like screaming for more.” Without further warning, his chilled, leather fingertips pushed past your denim shorts, briefly grazing the hem of your panties.

You didn’t recognize the sound that emitted from the depths of your chest as he slid into you - facing little resistance much to your dismay. His finger curled, stimulating a part of you that hadn’t been unearthed for far too long. Dragging in and out, hitting a spot that made your vision dance with speckles of white, you couldn’t find the strength to resist his ministrations.

“You like this, don’t you? What a dirty little girl you are, bunny.” His voice fractured your lust-fueled haze, attempting to slip your hands from his grasp as you bucked beneath him. Your resistance hardly fazed Danny, earning no more than an amused tsk as he tightened his hold.

“Now, now, bunny. If you’re going to be naughty and not play by the rules, I’m going to have to punish you.” A wisp of fear at the promise of discipline caused your core to clench. Danny groaned as he removed his fingers completely, the sudden emptiness sobering your senses. The reprieve was short-lived, the leather previously working you replaced with the blunt handle of a familiar knife.

“What the fuck -” Your words slipped into an unexpected cry of pleasure as the handle brushed your center with expert precision. Discomfort melded into bliss, your will to fight a distant echo in the recesses of your mind. His concept of ‘punishment’ seemed skewed, particularly as a skilled finger danced along your clit in tandem with the blade’s thrusts. Your eyes fluttered close, walls clenching with bruising force as you reached the precipice - nearly pushed over that delicious edge -

And just as soon as sweet release had been promised, it was stolen.

A pitiful whine escaped you as his attention ceased, robbing you of the peak you so desperately craved. Ah, punishment, indeed.

“Ah, ah, Y/n. Only good girls get to cum.” Danny adjusted his position so his hips were once again pressed firmly between your legs. Much to your dismay, the coarse fabric of his pants caused you to grind against him - desperately searching for friction.

“I might consider being merciful and letting you cum on my cock if you beg me for it.” His deep rasp trailed into a lilting tone, teasing you - humiliating you. Even in all your torturous deaths dealt by Danny’s blade, you had never begged him to spare you. Though your hips chased his, desperate to ease the ache between your legs, you would sooner die than plead for him to fuck you.

“You call that merciful?” You scoffed, attempting to ease the tremble in your voice. “You’re even more fucked up than I thought if you think I want you.”

“Oh, I think you’re pretty fucked in the head yourself, kitten.” Those fingers slid between your thighs once more, gliding up your center to collect evidence of your arousal. “You can lie to yourself all you want. But see this?” He pressed the glistening leather to your lips, forcing your mouth open to taste your body’s betrayal. “This doesn’t lie.”

“So, you’re going to be a good girl, and you’re going to take everything I have to offer. Every. Last. Goddamn. Inch,” he growled, each word only fueling your thinly veiled desire. You wanted to protest - wanted to kick and scream like a good little survivor. But something within you, some deep, animalistic urge only satiated by the thrill of danger, wouldn’t permit it. Maybe Danny was right. Maybe the endless torment of fighting to survive fueled something savage - a ruinous need to be ravaged by the enemy.

Saving you from the false pretenses of your moral obligation to resist, Danny flipped you onto your stomach in a swift motion. One firm arm wrapped around your waist, using the leverage to lift your hips up. With your face and arms planted to the floor, the harsh arch of your figure placed your bare ass on display for Danny.

Without warning, two fingers were buried deep within you, setting a brutal pace that set your body ablaze with burning embers. Just as your walls began to flutter, Danny removed his fingers before delivering a sharp slap to your sensitive flesh. He waited a moment, allowing you to drift further from the promise of release, before claiming you once more. You lost track of time as he continued to edge you - cooing dirty words in your ear and chuckling at your growing frustration.

“You know how to make this stop, kitten.” Your body ached, core pulsing as his touch parted once more. Danny trailed his blade down your thighs, collecting the slick of your arousal. You had been so determined not to beg. But now as you burned with stifled desire, begging for release seemed preferable to continuing this torture.

“Danny,” you whined, aghast at how difficult stringing together a sentence had become. “Please, please, just fuck me already you fucking psychotic -”

You were cut off by your own hoarse scream as Danny pushed into you, forcing you to take his entire length in one fatal thrust. You arched further into the ground, allowing him to reach impossibly deeper as he brushed your cervix. He was so big, feeling as though he would split you apart as he snapped his hips against yours.

“That’s it, Y/n - fuck, you’re so tight. Bet you haven’t had anybody fuck this sweet cunt like this, have you?” You could only moan in response, clenching around him.

A gloved hand fisted your hair, pulling your head back roughly so his mask rested by your ear. “I asked you a fucking question, bunny. Nobody fucks you like this, do they?”

“No!” You squealed. “Only you, Danny - Danny.” His pace increased as you whimpered his name, thrusts intensifying until your looming orgasm was forced upon you. Your body trembled as your release washed over you, waves of fierce pleasure threatening to consume your very existence.

“Yes - yes, that’s my girl.” He didn’t slow down, allowing you no reprieve from the overstimulation that wracked your core. You attempted to pull away, to form a coherent thought that would save you from the onslaught of fervent sensations.

“Danny s’too much,” you slurred. A venomous laugh sounded in turn as he flipped you over again, hands gripping the undersides of your thighs to press your knees to your chest. He resumed his brutal pace, brushing the pad of his thumb against your clit as you writhed helplessly beneath him.

“C’mon, Y/n, you can take one more can’t you?” That familiar pressure was already building. You forced your fluttering eyes to gaze upon his mask, the mere sight of his looming presence causing you to tumble over the edge once more. You screamed his name, overwhelmed by the earth-shattering intensity of your climax.

“Fuck, yes, that’s it,” he groaned. Danny’s pace became frenzied, each thrust forcing brutally past your fluttering walls. “You want me to fill you up, don’t you? You want to be dripping with my cum when you sit around that campfire with your pathetic little friends.”

“Fuck. You,” You managed, the breathy words lacking their usual bite. Your fire only spurred him on as he buried himself to the hilt within you, hot ropes of his cum coating your insides.

As he slipped from you, allowing you to come down from your orgasmic high, the weight of your actions settled in your chest with crushing realization. Danny placed a finger under your chin to return your gaze to him - an uncharacteristically gentle gesture.

Whatever insults you prepared to spew were quickly lost as he moved his mask - revealing a finely sculpted jaw covered in dark stubble. He leaned in close, pouty lips hovering above your own and stealing the breath from your lungs.

“Until next time, kitten. And there will be a next time.”

#danny johnson #danny johnson x reader #Danny Johnson x you #jed olsen x reader #Jed Olsen x you #jed olsen #danny jed olsen johnson #DBD #DBD Ghostface #ghostface #ghostface smut #danny johnson smut #dbd smut #slasher x you #slasher fic #slasher smut #slasher fandom

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d10nyx · 3 months

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lacerated to the bone

ft. danny johnson as ghostface x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, dark content, masked men, stalking, photography, heavy dub-con, knife play, coercion, choking, blood, threats, predator/prey play, fear play, major character death, p in v, creampie

a/n: requested by anon! hope it lives up to the idea you had, bcs i had so much fun writing this one !! title from 'a life less ordinary(need a little help)' by motion city soundtrack

word count: 2.1k words

“Come on… come on.” You say under your breath as you work at the generator, your heart rabbiting in your chest. You're looking over your shoulder every few seconds, trying to make sure that the killer isn't on your trail. You did your best to save the others from the entity, but you'd failed. You were all alone now. You had to survive.

You can't shake the feeling that he's watching you. There's an eerie silence around you, the only sounds coming from the generator you're working on. The final one. You let out a deep breath as you look away again, but your fingers falter, and the sounds of the generator failing echo throughout the forest.

“No, no, no…” You say quickly, perking up to examine your surroundings, hoping that you hadn't alerted the killer. You curl up behind the generator, waiting for a few moments as you try to listen out for any movement. The minutes that stretch by feel like hours, but there's no sign of him.

You let out a deep breath, standing up before you lean over to work on the generator again. Before you can get started, you feel a finger tap your shoulder. You turn around quickly, coming face to face with a camera. You hear the click of the shutter, and then a bright light flashes that ends up blinding you for a few seconds.

You blink rapidly to clear the spots from your vision, stumbling back. You knew who it was. It could only be one person. You needed to get out of here, and fast. When your vision finally refocuses, you're left face to face with Ghostface. The mask tilts to the side as he cocks his head, his voice husky and slightly crackly from the vocal modulator as he speaks.

“Boo.”

You're running before your brain can even register the movement. You do your best to escape, weaving through dilapidated structures to try and lose him. At every chance you got, you sent wooden palettes tumbling in narrow spaces, keeping a mental note of where you'd cut off the path, hoping to slow him down.

At this point, the chase had become a matter of stamina rather than technique. It was clear the killer wasn't going to let you go, barely letting you out of his sight for more than a few seconds before he was on your tail again. You knew better than to hide, but you were running out of options. Your breathing was becoming laboured, and your legs burned from the chase. You knew you didn't have much of a chance - he was stronger, faster and smarter than you.

It was all down to luck. Your eyes flick over the treeline rapidly - it's a bit far out from the generators and the exit, but it was your best chance of staying concealed. The feeling of being watched irks you once again, causing you to stop and try to find the source.

It's quiet. Too quiet. All you can hear is the sounds of your own breathing. For a moment, you almost feel like you've lost him. That is until you hear a sound that's becoming far too familiar for your liking.

Click!

You turn to try and run again, but a gloved hand wraps around your ankle, yanking you into the underbrush. You cry out as the branches scratch the skin that's exposed as he drags you towards him.

“An image is worth a thousand words, don't you think?” A voice echoes from behind the mask, his free hand shifting to press down on your chest to keep you flat on the ground as he pins your legs down with his knees. With his other hand, he snaps a few pictures of your fearful expression with a beaten down looking film camera.

“Can't wait to get these developed… add them to the collection.” He adds after a moment, placing it down carefully so he can reach for the knife he had tucked in his belt. “I think I like this look on you…”

“Please…” You croak out weakly, your voice wavering as he trails the tip of the blade down your cheek and along your jawbone. “Please, don't.”

“Oh? Already begging for your life?” He coos, patting the flat of the blade against your cheek a few times. He presses the tip of the knife against your cheek, placing just enough pressure to nick the skin. “You're in luck. See, I don't normally play with my designs, but…”

He slides the tip of the knife down your skin, applying pressure when it reaches the hollow of your throat. The mask tilts down, and you can almost sense the sick satisfaction from him as he watches your blood trickle out with every panicked breath you make.

“Well, you're different. I've been watching you for a while. I wanted this to be special; the kind of headlines that people don't forget.” He leans down slightly, and you can feel his gaze boring through you despite the mask obscuring his features.

“Anyway, look at me getting all sidetracked. You poor thing, you keep shaking. I hope that's not on account of me?” He mocks, holding the knife to your throat to keep you from making any attempts to escape. “My apologies. I've always been one for a good story. And you, my dear? I feel you'll be my best one yet. I have a… proposition for you.”

“Please, just stop. I won't say anything… I swear! Just let me go I… I was so close, please!” You sob, raising your hands to try and push him off of you, as if that'd do any good. You wriggle underneath him, ring to give yourself a chance to break free and escape his grasp.

“You see, I'd love to do that. Really, I would. There's just one small issue.” With that, he loosely nods his head towards one of the hooks not far from you. “See, I could let you go, but that wouldn't be in my best interests… now, if you want to make it worth my while…”

He trails off, dropping his head down so his mask is looming directly over your face. He presses the knife down harder, drawing blood as the sharp edge digs into the skin of your throat. “Either you give me what I want, or I'll gut you and offer you up to the Entity. It's simple, really.”

Your stomach sinks at his words. There's no mistaking his intentions. The mask is tilted towards you expectantly as the knife against your throat is replaced by his tight grip. He trails his blade down, hiking your skirt up with the tip of it.

You nod. What other choice did you have? It was this, or die. You couldn't die here. You won't.

“There we go. Good girl.” He says as he removes his grip on your throat to pat your cheek, slipping the knife in between the top of your thigh and the edge of your panties. You tense as he pulls the fabric taut with the blade until it splits. You shiver as the cold metal brushes right above your folds, sliding the fabric out of the way to expose you to his greedy eyes.

You squirm underneath him as he runs the flat of his blade downwards, trying not to jerk your hips as he brushes past your clit, a small whimper falling from your lips. He smacks the blade down a few times, landing spanks against your pussy until sticky strings of arousal connect you to his knife.

“Filthy little thing.” He hums, pulling his knife away to drag a gloved finger between your folds. “Making such a mess. To think, I was planning to wet my knife in a very different way.”

You watch with a mix of arousal and horror as he shucks off the cloak, exposing the black jeans and t-shirt he wore underneath. He keeps that mask on. Seems to enjoy the way you shiver whenever your eyes land on it. He manages to unbuckle his belt one-handed with little struggle, the clink of the metal echoing in the air for a few moments.

He drops the knife down to free his cock and hold it in his right hand. His left hand slides its way up your body, squeezing one of your tits before his hand trails higher, gripping your throat once more. Just to be safe. He smacks his tip against your clit a few times, clearly enjoying the way it has you jolting. Your cunt gushes as he ruts against your sensitive nub, drawing a moan from your lips.

He slides his cock down until the head catches your hole. With a grunt, he pushes forward, filling you to the brim. He throws his head back, his chest rising and falling visibly with his rapid breaths.

“Christ, doll. Didn't think you'd be this wet.” He hisses through gritted teeth. He drops his head forward again, watching your expression carefully through the mask. The tone of his voice sends heat pooling in your lower abdomen, air leaving you in a breathless sigh.

His thrusts are shallow and desperate. He barely pulls out before slamming back in, not wanting to leave the tight heat surrounding him longer than necessary. Each thrust brings a whimper from his lips. Hastily, he reaches a hand out to grab his camera, the one resting on your throat squeezing down just enough to have you gasping in a breath, your cunt clenching tighter around his cock.

“Oh!” He moans, his hand shaking as he snaps a few pictures of his cock sliding in and out of you, the length coated in a layer of clear slick. “God, that's so tight. You like it when I squeeze your throat, huh?”

His voice is hoarse as he speaks, slightly breathless. He tightens his grip on your throat a little more as he speeds up his thrusts, fucking into you with a more brutal pace, his cock bullying your cervix with every movement. Blood rushes to your head as he pounds the air out of you while leaving you unable to suck more air in due to him choking you. You start to get light headed, your vision growing spotty and blurry with unshed tears. As your eyelids begin to flutter, he lets go and you're quickly sucking in deep breaths, your chest heaving.

“Ah, sorry, darling.” He forces out, sounding absolutely wrecked. He drops the camera to hold your hips in both of his hands, pulling you back on his cock with enough force that you're sure you'd be littered in finger shaped bruises. His balls slap against your ass with every heavy movement.

“Oh, can't wait to get these pictures all done. Gonna build a whole shrine for you, dolly. Such a pretty thing.” He reaches down to pinch and tug at your clit before rubbing circles into it with his thumb. He's too rough, and you're already so sensitive. Your body twitches, whines spilling from your lips as you cum, back arching and dragging along the dirt as you clench around his cock.

“W-wait… gotta… gotta get a picture, fuck.” He croaks, flipping you over onto your stomach. He grabs your hair in one fist, yanking your head back painfully as he sinks his cock back into you, making you cry out. He snaps a couple of pictures of him buried deep inside of you, aiming the camera mostly at your fucked out, tear-stained face.

“Fuck… fuck. Coming…” He manages to choke out, the sensation of your walls squeezing him enough to milk his cock. He drops his head down to the crook of your neck, the material of the mask jarring your heated skin. “Shit.”

He drops the camera again, his hand fumbling with something in the thick brush. In the corner of your eye, you see a glint of metal in the moonlight, causing you to flail in panic, scratching at the ground and trying to fight him off.

“You promised!�� You yell, trying to scramble out from underneath him as you realise what he’s about to do. “You said you'd let me go! Please… I did what you asked!”

Your eyes widen with fear - wet and panicked as he lifts the knife up, plunging it deep into the side of your neck. Blood bubbles up in your throat, making you cough and splutter as the excruciating pain shocks your core.

“Sorry, doll. Honest. I know I said I'd let you go, but, well…” He yanks the knife out, and your body convulses as you try desperately to suck breath into your failing lungs.

“A good story always needs a twist.”

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unwantedshivering · 1 year

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NEW SURVIVOR

HEADCANONS of DANNY JOHNSON with a new survivor he finds attractive

WARNINGS: creepy stalking, typical danny stuff, perverse & sadistic thoughts, obsession

FOR: Ghostface ft. Dwight :]

Oh?

You suddenly dropped in one day during his trial, might he add, as though you were made for him. Disoriented, quivering and on unstable legs. It's Danny's instinct to prowl, hunt and observe, and he absolutely loves when there's new survivors — it's a new opportunity for him to see what your insides look like.

Are you terrified yet? You seem to be a bit too calm in the moment, but it was probably just setting in. Of course Dwight takes it upon himself to explain the generators to you, blah blah blah. Danny's attention is nothing more than a simple curiosity, that of a cat lazily pawing at a mouse. If you're lucky, he'll lose his curiosity quickly and your first death will be (almost) painless.

Unfortunately, you're not lucky at all. You blow a fuse on a generator, quickly disrupting the unnerving and almost faint caws of those ominous crows that seem to follow you everywhere. Dwight quickly hushes your surprised yelp, urging you to move quickly, but Danny's already behind you. His interest has been piqued, you're quite pretty when you're frightened.

To be fair, he had been behind you for quite some time. Ohh, you're easy to spook, aren't you? You're a quick learner, your fingers move diligently, but the pressure of being dropped in a game of life has you fumbling. He thinks you'd look good smeared in blood, a sweet rouge dotting your face as he watches those eyes go big and doe-like. Thinking about it gives him a small rush, and he idly twirls his knife as he stealthily slinks after you.

Dwight grabs your shoulder to make you crouch and you flinch, a sharp breath escaping your lips. Danny's own breathing falters.

He likes watching. He likes figuring out everything about the survivors, which killer they fear the most, how good they are in tough situations, how easy of prey they might be. The quiet whimpers of pain he inflicts upon them, the groans and limping, he could end it quick — but he doesn't choose to, he revels in their misery, prolongs it. All survivors have hope to escape, that's why The Entity chose them.

He loves breaking it. Of course, they'll occasionally escape through that damned gate or hatch, but when they don't it's almost artistic. He broke them down. He crushed their hopes, their small semblance of faith in leaving the hellhole they're eternally trapped in, even if it was for a single round. If he finds it particularly poetic, he'll even snap a quick photo. Danny's always been quite the romantic.

He's snapped many photos of you in the short time that he's known you. Your side profile, your smile at the awkward quip Dwight makes to ease your nervousness, all of it. Your hesitant movements and the changes in your face is something he finds charming. It's the way you're adapting even though he could practically smell the absolute horror radiating off of you, you're so fucking scared it's driving him crazy.

Danny plays with you. He wants you to be paranoid with every flash and click, every branch snapping you hear. It's amusing when you turn to his direction only to see nothing, no, he doesn't want you to see him yet. He has to get rid of that parasite sticking by your side first.

He decides then he wants you for last, like a sweet reward for his excellent trial. Yeah, he wants to see your hair disheveled and your limbs sprawled against the dirt. The Ghostface doesn't speak, none of the killers generally do, but he would whisper a description on how he'd gut you and see the realization of your predicament seep in. He wants it so badly. He wants — needs photos to commemorate the experience.

Deep down, Danny knows this is just an obsession formed over a baseless fascination. He wants to see what makes you squirm, but also you're attractive to him, so it works out for him perfectly. It also doesn't help that he believes you to be photogenic, and only The Entity knows how many survivors he would sacrifice just to see you covered in blood.

It's the pure notion of such a thing that would set him off. Are you a cryer or would you attempt to hold it in? How's your pain tolerance? Have you ever experienced such brutality and cruelness before him? Danny would love if the shimmer of your tears appeared in the photo as well as your contorted expression. These thoughts cross his mind as he hooks Jake and Feng.

Fuck.

It's getting harder to rein himself back in, but Danny is smart to know patience is a virtue. It bears fruit, beautiful fruit such as being the first killer in this endless loop to sink a knife into your side with a sick slick sound.

There was something watching you.

You felt it throughout the whole time you were in this weird dimension, your hair bristling as though there were eyes were locked onto your frame's every movement. You recounted the feeling hesitantly to Dwight as you were headed to another spot, and he pursed his lips before saying that it was most likely The Ghostface. You persisted for more answers, but he provided you none, stating most trials felt that way.

Dwight was nice, sticking by you and looking out for you as you tripped and messed up time and time again. "It's alright," he whispered, fixing up a generator skillfully. "It's your first trial, I was even worse when I got here."

It was sudden when you lost him, another blown generator and the building dread of something approaching. You ran away. You shouldn't have, Dwight even shouting after you, but you did anyway. It was too overwhelming, the fear had overtaken and your natural instinct was flight.

It had receded naturally as you left, but then the guilt had taken over. A piercing scream ripped through the air and you whipped your head around. It was him — Dwight. You should've just stayed put.

It was the moment you decided to step toward the sound to fix your mistake that an aggressive shove halted your movements, your body sent tumbling to the strangely wet soil. It was cold, dirt sticking to your hair and body, and a soft scream forced its way out of your mouth. You quickly turned over to attempt to stand, but then a dark, impeding mass of black seated itself right on your hips.

His name — you know how he got his name. The Ghostface and his startling white mask, forever in a petrified scream, your eyes were blown wide. It was one thing to hear about him and feel him, but his actual presence made your stomach churn. You thrashed and wriggled violently in hopes of forcing your way out from below him, but he kept his weight heavy upon your body, purposefully pushing his legs against your torso to cage you in.

As if to issue a warning, the Ghostface cut a slice into your thigh, and you released a silenced whimper. Stunning. You were stunning, he could analyze and study your every expression forever, maybe pry noises out of you no one else could.

Dwight's blood curdling cries worsened as the Ghostface wiped the knife he used to slash him down, head tilted and chest heaving. The exhilaration of hunting the other survivors was nothing in comparison to seeing you below him. There were clumps of filth across your face and hair, clothes ripped by the strangely sharp branches of the dead trees, your heartbeat spiking.

He could feel it. If he wanted to, he could reach down with his own two fingers and press against your thumping pulse in an oddly intimate fashion. Would you be bewildered? He wanted a picture for every face you could ever make — confused, angry, whatever.

"Has anyone done this to you before?" he asked before he could help himself, freakish mask leaning in closer to see every twitch on your visage.

Your eyebrows knitted together, he saw it. Something like that shouldn't have fascinated him as much as it did. With a shuddered breath, you spoke in a rasp. "I—I don't understand..."

Your alert eyes flickered toward his knife, and the Ghostface hummed. He smelt of cheap cologne.

"Dwight was babying you," he stated lowly, mockingly cocking his head to the side. The martyr. He bit off more than he could chew. "The nerd took it upon himself to try and save you, have your first trial be one where you survive. Isn't that fucking ironic?"

It was rhetorical, you knew it was, yet you answered anyway. "I know," you spat bitterly, turning away. It felt bad to have your own mistake be said so bluntly by a murderer of all people.

Weakly, you writhed underneath him for a chance to move, but his hold was too suffocating. Tears sprung up in your eyes. Why was this creep just watching? He didn't do much with his weapon, just kept staring with his hooded lids and breathing in your face as you struggled.

It seemed like the rise and fall of his chest quickened when that light glaze of frustration and fear appeared upon your face. He sucked in a hiss, craving to see those bewitching, translucent pearls stream down your features.

"Oh, you're a fucking cryer," he cooed. His hunting knife pressed against your cheek, the cold blade forcefully turning your head back to face his eery mask. "Look here, I need a good shot of those eyes before and after I sink my knife into that stomach of yours."

#danny johnson x reader #jed olsen x reader #dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #ghostface dbd #ghostface x reader #dbd ghostface #ghostface dbd x reader #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #danny johnson #jed olsen #dbd x reader #danny johnson x you #jed olsen x you #dbd x you #dead by daylight x you

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guttedwhxre · 11 months

Text

how they'd get rid of you, pt. 2 - multiple slashers

UNDER THE CUT: jed olsen, bo sinclair, vincent sinclair, asa emory, amanda young

tw: reader death, violence, torture ment

author's note: since people seemed so fond of the first one, here's another for you! lmk if there's anyone you guys would want to see in particular - or if you wanted an 'are they sorry' for these guys too! enjoy <33 oh and here's the og post <3

JED would probably just kill you. i’m sorry, sweet thing, but you know way too much - and unlike billy and stu he’s unwilling to take the risk of you singing to the authorities. no doubt he’s taken careful months of planning to infiltrate whatever town he’s taken to, and him tiring of you, even dating you in the first place, was an unexpected wrench in his plans. your death, like all other things, would be planned out meticulously, and he of course would make it look like an unfortunate accident after. he takes his usual souvenir photos to commemorate your time together, but he couldn’t possibly take the risk of your murder being linked to his other work! no, too much of a coincidence - better safe than sorry. jed would only take these measures if you ever became a danger to his operations, whether he came to distrust you or you became too skittish. you need to be all in - and if you’re not, well, jed could always use the practice.

with BO, it honestly depends. piss him off enough and he’ll hand you over to his brother to become a nice new figure for the town, or in luckier circumstances he’ll just tell you to fuck off. not without threatening you of course, promising to find you if ambrose ever becomes compromised…if you weren’t that lucky, then first bo will drug your dinner, making sure you fall asleep before hoisting you downstairs to vinny’s studio, handing you over. the man will never complain about having new material - though he’s a little resigned at the thought of it being you. he goes through the motions, taking care to make you as lovely as you were in life now in death. you’d be placed at the top of the stairs in the museum of wax, waving down to all who walked through. bo would only do either of these things if you proved to be useless, sitting around all day instead of carrying your weight. there’s always things to be done in ambrose, things to be cleaned, sorted, tuned, and upkept. if you are to be unable to do anything, without good reason? well, sorry to say it but bo won’t tolerate it - and he’d already have given you several chances to turn it around. whenever he happens by your statue, he gives it a kiss, and keeps moving on.

VINCENT, firstly it’d take a lot to get him here at all! so if you managed to push his buttons that hard, he wouldn’t even consider turning you to wax. if you’ve been so intolerant of him, of his brothers, so whiny and refuse to help in even the slightest way, vincent will kill you. brutally. this man has a lot of patience, he has to in his line of work, and if you wear him out not only are you probably a huge asshole, you provide nothing. intimacy aside, if you won’t help out, what good are you for his family? for him? it’ll seem like it comes from nowhere, but vincent has already been enduring you for a while - and he’ll endure nothing else. he’ll chase you into the basement, thundering behind you as he brandishes his scissors. when he corners you, gone is the vinny you knew and loved, his face darkened, shoulders heaving as he beats you to the ground, finally severing the cord of your life with a crunching snap of his scissors around your neck. better luck next time!

ASA is a cold-hearted bitch and could honestly tire of you at any time. doesn’t matter how much he’s come to be sentimental over you, one wrong twitch of your brow and you’d be dying in the worst ways you can imagine. sure, he’s patient but he’s flippant - not concerned with much else besides being amused further, strengthening his collections, and his dogs. if you’re a pet of his you have higher standing in his eyes, but that doesn’t mean you’re not immune to his every whim. and he likes to remind you of that, often. there’s not much to do to prevent or influence this possibly happening - it’s simply luck.

bonus! AMANDA would have to see if you became unworthy of life. ungrateful of her and your opportunities, so much of her decision would come from months, years of observation. you’re someone who means a lot to her, and she couldn’t just toss you out on a whim - unless kramer told her to, then well, sorry again darling but you’d be throughouhly fucked. assuming that’s not the case, amanda would take stock of your actions, your words, mannerisms, everything, and make a choice. you’d awaken in a trap made especially for you, and we all know amanda has a habit of rigging them to fail. she’d give you a sliver of a chance to make it - but if you fuck it up well, that just proves her point. you weren’t grateful for your lives together after all.

xoxo, babe 💋

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bad-m00n · 2 years

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"Sweetheart, I have to mark you. How else is everyone gonna know you're mine?"

With your choice of blorbo!

"My choice" is a dangerous option to give me haha I hope you like Danny Johnson~♡

You writhed under his touch. His lips against your neck and fingers skating up your side were gentle whispers in comparison to the bite of his teeth and the blade pressed against your inner thigh. He was littering your body with reminders of him. Both for you and others.

"Danny, please-" You whined as he pulled away to admire his handiwork. A slight pout still pulled at his lips however and you knew your night was far from over.

"It's still not enough. What do you think?" He trailed his fingers over a chain of bite marks on your shoulder.

"Danny, please! Just touch me already! I need you." You sounded pathetic and it made his pout turn into a grin.

"We're getting there, but sweetheart, I have to mark you. How else is everyone gonna know you're mine?" The purr of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, turning you on more before you were pulled from your haze by the bite of steel on your hip.

You cried out, the sound caught somewhere between a hiss of pain and a moan. Reflex wanted you to sit up, but Danny kept a firm hand on your abdomen as his knife carved into your hip. Once he was done, he licked over the bleeding wound with a groan. The blood lingered on his lips before he kissed away the tears trailing down your cheek.

"There. Now they'll always know who you belong to." He smirked as he watched you look down to your new adornment. Just above your hip bone was a 'D' inside of a sharp edged heart etched into flesh. Now you could never get rid of him.

#taliesin writes #taliesin answers #danny johnson x reader #danny jed olsen johnson #danny johnson #danny johnson x you #jed olsen x reader #jed olsen x you #dead by daylight #dbd #ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #dbd ghostface

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ghqstfqce · 2 years

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Hola, creo que llegué justo a tiempo para pedir algo

Podrías hacer headcannons de Danny Johnson con un/a S/O que es amo/a de casa? Danny quiere mucho a su pareja y no quiere que se dé cuenta de su segundo trabajo porque sabe que le va a espantar, su S/O es una persona amable y sensible.

Me gusta lo macabro, un poco, así que más tarde su S/O se daría cuenta de el pasatiempo de Danny mientras ordenaba sus cosas (encuentra las fotos de gente muerta al lado de Ghostface, el disfraz manchado de sangre y así), probablemente Danny no va a dejarle ir así de simple aunque esté horrorizado/a

Warnings || Mención de Asesinatos. Temas yandere podría ser. Danny esta enamorado obsecionado con lector. Retención contra su voluntad. Algo se pelusa al inicio.

Pairing || Danny Johnson | The Ghost Face x Husband ! Reader.

Notas || Me pusiste en una encrucijada, me encanta hacer lectores mortalmente grises que aceptan de una al slasher, así que a ver que tal ha salido esto.

Danny no creía que fuera capaz de amar, tan dañado y oscuro, ¿quién podría querer al monstruo que acechaba en sus pesadillas infantiles?

Tú, al parecer tú lo querías y la parte maniática de él se sentía extasiada por ti, su dulce chico, no sabe qué hizo para merecerte, pero no te dejará ir.

Aunque tienes un pequeño trabajo siendo tutor de niños en su pequeño suburbio; siempre tienes la casa limpia y agradable, comida caliente para cuando él llegue, su almuerzo por si sus horas de oficina se alarga y su cambio del día siguiente planchado e impecable.

Te adora con violencia, no sólo porque te encargues de la casa y aunque es un gran punto extra, vive para como lo amas.

Cada pequeño detalle en lo que haces por él y la casa donde viven, cómo se iluminan tus ojos al verlo entrar a casa, como corres para abrazarlo como el gran koala que eres.

"Bienvenido a casa, cariño, te he extrañado" y seguido un ataque de besos por toda su cara, es su parte favorita de todo el día.

A veces en las noches no puede dormir pensando en la rapidez en la que podría perder todo eso, un descuido de su parte y el gran sol que eres tú no dudaría en alejarse y explotar, no lo permitirá, ¿verdad?

Todo había estado marchando de maravilla, a Danny le iba muy bien en su trabajo como periodista y aunque te preocupaba como el horrible asesino que era Ghostface lo escogió para publicar sus atrocidades, te sentías agradecido de que Danny pudiera hacer lo que más le gustaba.

El día era agradable, el sol brillaba sobre todo a tu alrededor y eras el hombre más feliz del mundo, inconsciente de las nubes grandes y espesas que se cernían sobre ti y la relación con tu maravilloso esposo.

No había sido tu intención husmear, confiabas en Danny con tu vida, así como él confiaba con su vida en ti. Pero siempre te pareció extraño como te pedía no limpiar cierta parte de su oficina y aunque querías entenderlo, no te parecía justo que aparte de aportar a casa, tuviera que limpiar.

Quizás debiste obedecer, debiste dejar esa maldita parte del estudio de tu esposo y seguir con tu vida. Pero no, por tratar de ser tan buen esposo te encontraste con tu propia pesadilla. No sabías que pensar mientras veías tantas fotos de cadáveres, una peor que la otra y al principio quisiste excusarlo con las fotos que el asesino le daría a tu esposo, pero luego ahí estaba esa maldita foto. Danny sonriendo como nunca, mientras sujetaba el cabello de una chica que lloraba y sangraba por la boca, todo rastro del brillo en los ojos de él había desaparecido, él no era tu Danny.

Y cuando viste esa sombra cerniéndose tras de ti, sabías que era lo último para ti. ¿Cómo decía el dicho? La curiosidad mató al gato, pero por lo menos murió sabiendo.

Danny sabía que debía ser cuidadoso, nada de pruebas incriminatorias en su casa, menos en la maldita casa adorable qué compartía contigo. Pero fue tan engreído y confío tanto en que lo escucharas, pero sabía que eres curioso y amable por naturaleza.

Quizás él mismo quería autosabotearse, pero, ¿era autosaboteo si aún lograba mantenerte junto a él? Lo descubriría pronto quizás.

Obviamente trataste de huir, no serías su dulce e inteligente esposo si no corrieras al sentido contrario del peligro, pero él no necesitaba que fueras su dulce e inteligente esposo, solo quería que fueras su esposo y malditamente lo apoyaras.

Pero sabía que dejarías de ser tú si eso pasaba, así que trataba de ser agradable contigo, por el bien de conservarte tal y como se enamoró de ti.

Todo es desastroso al principio, tratas de luchar, de llamar a la policía y hasta de pelear con Danny, pero él no permitirá nada de eso, se niega a que te conviertas en quien lo traicione, no cuando eres a quien ama tanto.

Te hará hacer todos los trabajos de casa bajo su atenta mirada y si esta fuera, bueno, estarás encerrado en su oficina hasta que vuelva.

Le duele verte llorar y suplicar porque te deje ir, como te rindes y aseguras no abrir la boca si te deja ir, pero eso es imposible, no puede y no te dejará ir, es la parte más importante de su vida, su dulce y brillante sol, su dulce amo de casa, su precioso esposo y te ama.

¿Qué sería de su poca humanidad sin ti?

#danny johnson x y/n #danny johnson x reader #danny johnson x you #danny johnson x male reader #jed olsen x y/n #jed olsen x reader #jed olsen x you #jed olsen x male reader #ghostface x y/n #ghostface x you #ghostface x reader #ghostface x male reader #dead by daylight x y/n #dead by daylight x you #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight x male reader

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diejager · 9 months

Text

Riding

“Fuck, babe,” he groaned, his head thrown back in the moment of exquisite pleasure. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re- tight!”

In a daze, he reached for your hips, warm palms clutching your naked flesh as he tried to ground himself, trying to stay coherent in the frenzy of sinful pleasure. You felt whole, squatting over him in the corner of the killer’s shack, skin bare and naked to his hazel eyes and hungry mouth. He watched you roll your hips, grinding yourself against the hardness of his cock, his trimmed hair tickling your nub, sending you both shivering. You from the constant stimulation, and him, from your sudden tightness around him.

He arched his back, rutting into you, his strong arms moving along his shaft. It was a soft motion of pushing in and pulling out, in and out, again and again, until you were both panting and moaning for more. You met in the middle, your lips dancing across his in a passionate tango of love and obsession. You pushed off the ground, thighs burning at the work of riding him, he helped you move, supporting your weight with his hands and his hips thrusting upwards.

“God-” he gasped, hissing when you bit his lower lip, pulling it when he tried to pull away. His chest rumbled in a low chuckle, pushing his body flush against yours and grinding into you. “You’re so fuckin’ hot.”

You let out a cheeky laugh, hands roaming the expanse of his coat, nudging the flap away and running your nails over his tight muscles. You dug your short nails into him, hearing him groan, hips stuttering as you slammed down on his lap. He made the most addicting sounds you’ve ever heard, low and raspy, or deep and teasing. Danny had a way with words, his tongue singing the best songs one could wish to hear when he was moaning and groaning under you.

“I could tell you the same, Ghostie.”

He slurred out a moan at your nickname. He loved it when you called him Ghostie, you fully embraced his darker side, even playing little games with him when he asked. Maybe you were as sick as he was, wanting to give yourself to him, letting him fuck you however he wanted and giving him whatever he wanted. But he was as devoted to you as you were, he’d kneel and beg for you, he’d let you use him as your toy and he’d do anything for you. You were both a blessing and a curse to each other.

You gasped, back arching and eyes rolling. You clawed at his shoulder, drawing lines of beautiful crimson from your love down his chest as you rolled your hips. Danny hissed, driving skyward jerkily, biting back his moan as he came. He filled you in waves of potent cream, the white cum dripping down his balls and his puckered rim when it became too much for your tight snatch. He gave a few more thrusts, riding out your peaks until his cock grew soft and he supported your limp figure, tired and satiated.

“Love you, doll,” he murmured, his swollen lips finding their rightful place on the crown of your head.

“Love ya too, Danny.”

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akanothere · 2 months

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After meeting at Roseville Gazette, 1993.

#dbd #dbd ghostface #danny jed olsen johnson #dbd fanart #dead by daylight fanart #dead by daylight #ghostface #dbd danny johnson #danny johnson #slashers #jed olsen #ghostface x y/n #ghostface x you #ghostface x reader #dbd jed olsen #danny johnson x reader

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angelbarelywrites · 26 days

Text

♡ slashers scenarios | first meeting (part 2)

♡ fandoms; Friday the 13th, House of Wax, Black Christmas, Scream (kinda)/ Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Jason Vorhees, Bo Sinclair, Danny Johnson, Billy Lenz, Bubba Sawyer

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; Billy Lenz, mentions of violence and general slasher activity, kidnapping, stalking

♡ notes; i didn’t include Bubba last time, so i slipped him in with the pt 2 team :v

also for ghostface i went with Danny over Billy + Stu, just because i’m more comfortable writing older characters tbh. and he’s very attractive to me. maybe i can do a college au fic of them in the future?

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Jason Vorhees

> you were lost

> utterly, hopelessly lost without a map, compass, or even your backpack

> you were out camping with a couple of new friends when you wandered off to pick flowers

> well, acquaintances more like- they weren’t particularly nice to you, but you knew one from your home town

> before you knew the sun was starting to set and you had no clue which way to go

> you’re kicking yourself for being so dumb but try to make the best of it, continuing to collect flowers and pretty rocks

> soon enough you find yourself on the edge of a lake

> that couldn’t have been good- there weren’t any lakes near the campsite at all

> maybe this was that old summer camp they’d mentioned?

> either way you turn around and try your best to retrace your steps

> but even with a full moon it’s just too dark and too dense and you’re exhausted

> holding in tears, you find a small meadow and finally sit to rest

> you’re still sniffling and rubbing your eyes when someone walks up to you

> you were so oblivious that Jason was able to get a few feet in front of you before you noticed

> he seems…perplexed to find you there

> he thought he’d gotten all of the campers

> and you didn’t really look like you belonged with those fornicators

> (or at least that’s what he told himself to justify leaving you alive)

> he’s holding his machete and soaked with your companions’ blood, but you don’t seem to notice

> “…can you take me back to my friends?”

> well he most certainly cannot do that, not if he wants you to like him- though he’s not sure why that matters

> he’s still staring so you, exhausted, do the only thing you can think to

> “…do you want a flower? I picked a lot”

> he’s delighted and takes it before finally gesturing for you to follow him

> you can’t keep up, so eventually he picks you up

> and like that you’re nearly dozing off

> you don’t even notice he’s taking you back the way you came from

> and he’s glad- he wasn’t going to give you much of an option anyway

Bo Sinclair

> single travelers are so much easier to deal with

> so when Lester gives him the call that some college kid was stuck on the road, he’s eager for an easy catch

> you take your sweet ass time getting to the station- even though Lester drove you most of the way you let him drop you off just outside of town

> the smell of the truck was really getting to you, and you’re happy to let the dog lead you

> when he strides out you’re cooing over Jonesy and giving her a belly rub for her troubles

> he’s seen his fair share of attractive victims

> men, women, and folks that didn’t fit either category

> and he’s slept with most of them

> but you… there’s something extra special about you

> he decides right there he’s not taking care of you without at least getting a taste

> you’re not too impressed by his flirting- or at least you try and act like it

> but he catches your pink cheeks and quiet giggles as he takes you on a walk

> because of course he’s got the part down the road at his place

> by the time you get there he’s decided he’s marrying you - or maybe keeping you tied up, beggars can’t be choosers

> he’s impulsive but he’s never wanted to keep anyone before

> “hey sugar-“ god your face heats up just hearing him call you that “turns out I don’t have that part you need. It should be in by tomorrow, if you can stay the night?”

> you say yes before you can think critically- he’s good at getting folks wrapped around his finger like that

> “Good. Cause I’m just dying to show you some real southern hospitality…”

Danny Johnson

> he knows you long before you know him

> he’s a natural nosy guy- he’s a journalist after all

> and a serial killer, of course stalking is on his to do list

> originally you were going to be a victim

> you’d make a good story, a young person taken tragically early

> but you were too cute to die just yet- he had to at least meet you, just once

> if you were a dick no one would say anything nice for your article, right?

> so he just happens to bump into you outside your work one day

> literally bump

> when you spill coffee all over yourself he smoothly apologizes and offers to help clean you up

> “What a mess- I’m so sorry sweets. Let me take care of all this”

> and you fall for it, hook line and sinker

> he’s a handsome guy, he’s used to that but he’s smug anyways

> he gives you a spare shirt of his, though you still skip work

> he buys you another coffee and you sit in his car chatting

> you’re innocent enough to trust him like that- to get in a vehicle with a strange man?

> a strange man that’d been stalking you, no less

> it’s adorable- if he wasn’t so attached he could kill you right there

> but you’re just so damn sweet, and genuine

> and you’re so fascinated by these Ghost Face killings…

> maybe you’re worth keeping around for a bit

> just a bit

> that’s what he says to himself anyways

> when you meet him as Ghost Face, it’s after you’ve already got him all figured out

> and he’s lucky that you like a bad boy

Billy Lenz

> it’s a given that you first meet him over the phone

> you’re renting out a spare room from Mrs Mac, not in the sorority but a good enough tenant that she keeps you around

> you get along well with the girls and cook them meals, run study sessions and help clean

> it’s almost parental at times, even if you’re not far off in age

> Billy hates you at first, for taking such good care of ‘filthy piggy whores’

> he tells you just as much over the phone, but you’re not bothered

> you never seem to be bothered by his calls

> and that pisses him off more

> but you’re so so cute… it quickly becomes an obsession

> he’s in your walls constantly, watching you

> and the calls from the moaner start coming more and more frequently at times you’re home alone

> one day you just start giggling at him, tipsy “you know, you scare the girls,”

> “good i—“

> “but your voice is sooo nice. that’s why i pick up so much”

> you didn’t mean to confess that , and you hope he takes it as an awkward joke

> when he hangs up you think that maybe he did take it that way

> its not until late that night that you realize that he knew he was sincere

> before you can register that there’s anything wrong he’s covering your mouth and pinning you to your bed

> “hi there, baby doll,”

> his grin gets huge when your still horrified face goes bright red

> he always knew you were perfect

Bubba Sawyer

> you pick up Nubbins hitchhiking one day, and he’s just dumbfounded by you

> you’re nonplussed by his rambling and you don’t squirm at his yucky pictures. you don’t even kick him out, just drop him off at the gas station.

> you’re not really his type, but you’re fascinating

> he’s gotta get you home to meet his brothers

> so he pops your tires when you go inside- all four

> when you come back out Drayton is cursing him out and smacking him upside the head

> he makes him take you back to the house to rest up while he gets you tires

> of course he intends for Bubba to kill you

> but Nubbins doesn’t pass the message along, because he’s Nubbins

> “Here Bubba! I made us a new friend!”

> you shyly greet him, but he’s an oddly calming presence

> let’s be honest you’ve gotta be okay with a lot fast to like the Sawyers

> so maybe you’re just in denial about the material

> but you tell him you like his mask- and you do

> he obviously worked really hard on getting the makeup just right- and it compliments his suit

> he stares at you a long while before taking your hand and giving you a grand tour

> well, more a tour of his favorite spots

> the chicken coup, a patch of wildflowers out back, and his room full of trinkets collected from victims

> you’re strangely enamored by this big, quiet man

> and you don’t get the sense you’re allowed to leave

> especially when Drayton comes home and goes on and on about witnesses

> but you didn’t really even have an end goal in mind on your road trip anyways

> and now you’ve got Bubba to protect you

> maybe it’s not so bad, stuck with those weirdos

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airbendertendou · 1 year

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lonely heart ♡ danny johnson

soulmate au where the first time you have skin to skin contact, your body glows & is stamped w their handprint - it looks like a birthmark.

cw ; typical dbd warnings [blood n gore] ; reader offers ghostie a nude pic in exchange for freedom ; might b ooc but idc <3 ; how danny looks is up to you!

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

——♡——

The heat of the campfire brushes against your face, warming your skin just enough to forget the biting wind. Nancy is beside you, falling asleep where she sits, nodding her head forward before she snaps out of it. Across the fire, Feng is chatting idly with Dwight and Steve, Leon chiming in when he felt like it.

The bench-like-log you’re sitting on shifts as Nea takes a seat, letting out a huff as she settles. “It’s been quiet recently,” she says, “too quiet if you ask me.”

“I’m a little wary,” you agree. Your eyes scope the woods surrounding the survivors as if someone is going to pop out any second. They wouldn’t, though — the killers kept away from the light of the fire and never wandered any closer than they were allowed. “I wonder if something’s happened.”

Nea rolls her eyes, “we wouldn’t be so lucky.”

You grin at her pessimism, shoving her lightly with your left shoulder. Nea snickers as Nancy jumps awake once more, jolting in her sleep before yawning. A faded, gray fog settles over the camp and with it, five more survivors make their way around the campfire. You know what that means — a new trial is bound to start at any second.

Readying yourself, your muscles tense and your heart rate picks up, preparing to sprint when the time comes. A darkened, indigo-tinted fog wraps around you — it’s cold and loud as it grasps you from the campfire. You blink and then you’re in Haddonfield.

Taking in a deep breath, you shuffle quickly to the nearest generator. Feng smiles as she passes by you stealthily, clicking her flashlight at you a few times. The area is terrifyingly quiet — it must mean your killer this round is a watcher. You puff up your cheeks as you mis-wire something, moving away from the generator that’s popped.

A scream echoes in the distance — it sounds too close, so you take off.

Momentarily, you hide in a dusty bedroom. You peek from the walls, not spotting anyone other than the back of Leon’s bulletproof vest. Another look from the room — another scream hits the air.

Finding another generator was easy enough, but trying to stay hidden was a little more difficult. Your fingers curl and tug on wires, the smell of oil and burning wires hitting you the more you twiddle with them. Claudette hovers beside you, checking to see if you need any healing. Deeming you healthy, she flops to the other side of the generator.

“It’s Ghostface,” she breathes. Looking over her shoulder warily, she gulps as she looks back to you. “Already got Feng and Dwight. Only one gen’s done ; I’ve been hooked.”

You pause your wiring, confusion building up in you. “I haven’t even seen him yet.”

Claudette pauses too, looking over you with a furrowed eyebrow. “If we don’t make it, then win for us. Yeah?”

The generator pops with completion, lighting up for a second and exposing your location. You take off in the opposite direction Claudette did, hopping through a window and out through the backdoor. A flash of black catches your eye — your killer has finally shown himself.

You decide to buy everyone else some time. Hopefully, with a little distraction, a few more generator’s could be fixed.

Sneaking behind him, you let out a small “psst!” and wait for his attention to fall on you. He whips around, white mask greeting you. Walking towards a closet, you point to it a few times. Ghostface looks from the closet, to you, and back again. You wiggle your hand, insisting, “someone’s in there!”

Curiously, the closet door creaks open and Ghostface sees it’s empty. He turns to face you slowly and you’re already holding back giggles. A chase is pursued — something you struggle to do with all of your laughter. He swings his knife haphazardly, not really aiming at you, but not allowing you to get away with your joke either.

“Heheh—ah!” After a successful swing, a cut slashes across your arm. Blood seeps from it as you fall to the ground, laughter still spilling from your lips as you roll around. Ghostface shakes his head down at you — as if he’s disappointed in your joke — before he saunters off to find his next victim. You frown as your laughter comes to a stop, “well, now what?”

Another generator pops and you think this is it. We’re so close to going home — well, what you call home now. Letting out a sigh, you sit up and wrap your new cut with a bandage. You hear a squeal, then a scream. Seems our Ghostie is agitated now ; ready to get the trial over with.

Chills flow up your spine, a cold sweat breaking out on your forehead as the feeling of being watched overpowers you. That can’t be good. You stiffen, looking through the corner of your eyes without turning your head. Hopefully, you’ll see him with your peripheral vision if he’s near. Otherwise— you didn’t want to think of the other option.

Sneakily, you tip-toe into a nearby house, hoping to wait out the feeling. But, you know you won’t. One thing about Ghostface is once his eyes are set on you, you’re not escaping. A noise catches your attention in the silence — the sound of a latch unlocking.

The hatch — you must be the only one left.

Your breath catches in your throat as you creep along the street, keeping an eye out for the hatch. You see it — it’s right in your sights and your heart rate picks up. Shaky breaths escape your parted lips as you glance around the empty street. Coast is clear — time to make a run for it.

Until a white mask phases in out of nowhere, directly on the other side of the hatch.

“Oh, come on,” you whine. Ghostface tilts his head at you, waving his knife teasingly. Your arm stings with the shine of it, bandage now being colored a deep red. “I’m so close to ending this!” He continues to stare your way silently. “Don’t you think this is a little unfair?”

“That’s the game, doll.” You’ve never heard him speak before now. A static-y, modulated voice isn’t what you expect to hear. He creeps closer, no longer directly across from you. “That’s what makes this fun.”

You purse your lips, fingers knotting together at the edge of your edge. “Okay, how about this? You let me take hatch, and I’ll let you take a shirtless picture of me. My face isn’t allowed to be in it, though!”

Ghostface bounced where he stood, an excited giggle echoing in his mask as he immediately agreed. Puffing up your cheeks, you let out a breath before nodding to yourself in encouragement. A polaroid camera has replaced the blood-soaked knife in his hand — even with the weapon gone from sight, dread flushes through you.

“Okay,” you say to yourself, “this is no big deal.”

Without another thought, your fingers clench the end of your shirt and raise it to cover your face. Your skin prickles with the wind, goosebumps raising at the new sensation. With bated breath, you wait to hear the shutter go off — a click, another giggle, the hatch closing ; anything. All that’s there is silence.

And then a leather glove is wrapped around your wrist.

Jumping at the sudden touch, your shirt falls back into place as you take a step back. Only a sliver of skin is free from the glove — just enough for his skin to brush against yours.

A golden sheen takes over you, settling where your bodies meet. In a panic induced state, you’re pushed to the ground as Ghostface hovers over top of you. Shaky, shallow breaths hit his mask as his camera is settled to the right of your head. Slowly, he peels a glove off and reaches for you.

Where his now bare hand meets, a light follows. Right on your wrist, the shape of his fingers is imprinted forever, as if it were a birthmark you were born with. It was supposed to be a myth — a tale shared between hopeless romantic’s. Soulmates weren’t supposed to actually exist.

Except, yours apparently did. In a realm you couldn’t escape ; killing you and your fellow survivors on a continuous loop. You were stuck there — stuck with a murderer as your soulmate until forevermore.

Ruffled hair is exposed to the wind as Ghostface unmasks himself, his pupils practically hearts as he stares down at you. His eyes search your face, never settling on one particular spot as he drinks you in entirely. You feel as he lets out a breath ; feel his shoulders sag with some kind of relief as he grabs one of your hands. He leads it to his face and lets out another sigh when his skin glows, the shape of your hand left on the left side of his face.

“Mine,” his voice is soft. You can’t stop looking at him — can’t stop staring at your hand that’s been imprinted onto his cheek. “You’re all mine. Made just for me.”

You can’t tell if the feeling swelling inside of you is dread or excitement. But, you let him pull you closer anyways ; allow him to hug you as he pleases. This could come in handy, after all. Maybe.

——♡—— lets ignore that valentines day is over already teehee <3 i hope my version of ghostie is okay, idk how well i write him </3 airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

#danny johnson x reader #danny johnson imagines #jed olsen x reader #jed olsen imagines #danny johnson ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #ghostface imagine #dbd imagine #dbd x reader #dbd ghostface #dead by daylight imagines #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight imagine #dead by daylight ghostface #💝 : soulmate au’s

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e1dritchjackal0pe · 1 year

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🔪🩸 ghostface

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scvrmqueen · 1 year

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Oooooo your requests are open <: I was wondering, how do you think Danny would react to another killer going after reader? Like, in a scenario where another killer has reader cornered?

Hi @mamamemequeen, thank you so much for your request! I love this idea! I hope this is okay! ♡

┊ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — Headcanons & one-shot.

┊ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒) ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — Danny Johnson x reader.

┊ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — Blood, gore, stalking, Danny being Danny

Danny is possessive - when he chooses a victim, he is all in.

This man literally spends weeks stalking you. That's weeks of hiding in the shadows learning your routine, taking detailed notes of the layout of your apartment, and crafting the perfect demise.

Not to mention, his sleep schedule is decimated thanks to you. Every waking hour that he isn't running around playing 'Jed Olsen' he's watching you. His pretty little muse.

So, you can imagine that he isn't pleased to find another killer taking up your time. I mean, what are the chances? He's almost a little jealous.

Danny may be calculated when it comes to the hunt, but he is a petulant child when his plans are altered.

Anyone who tries to hurt you has a major death wish. Danny won't let some amateur take what's his.

After all, you're his obsession.

The night had devolved into a fit of madness quicker than you could comprehend. One moment you were leaving work, the humid Florida air clinging to your skin. The next, you were pressed against the rough brick of a secluded alley - a steel blade digging into your neck. Rancid breath enveloped your senses, a demented chuckle escaping the lips hovering above your own.

"No one's gonna hear you scream," the man said, his free hand gliding up the exposed flesh of your thigh. Tears stained your flushed cheeks with the realization of your impending demise. The knife parted from your neck, and you squeezed your eyes shut as he raised it high above you, prepared to feel it slice through your flesh.

But the killing blow never came.

Something warm and wet splattered against your face, your eyes flying open in shock. The man's lifeless gaze greeted you, a knife protruding straight through his neck. The blade was ripped away, his corpse tossed away by the firm grasp of your savior.

Perhaps savior was too generous.

Standing before you was a figure shrouded in black, his face concealed by a theatric white mask. A strained gasp escaped your lips as you recalled the headline in the morning paper depicting the same plastic scream.

"Ghost face," you whispered in disbelief. What were the chances that you escaped the clutches of one demented psychopath only to be thrown to another?

"Very good, bunny," he commended with a mocking lilt. You recognized that alluring voice from the phone calls you had received earlier in the week. "You look so pretty covered in blood."

He stepped forward, his lithe figure towering above you as you attempted to press yourself further against the wall. You whimpered as he leaned down, his knife staining the curves of your jaw crimson.

"You're going to kill me," your voice trembled. Though intended as a question, you were far too aware of the Ghost Face's reputation to suspect an alterative outcome.

"Oh, of course I'm going to kill you doll face," the blade rested under your chin, forcing you to gaze into the black abyss encompassing his eyes. "But not yet. See, our fun has only just started. I just had to make sure no one else took what was mine."

#ghostface dbd #dbd #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen #danny johnson x reader #danny johnson x you #jed olsen x reader #jed olsen x you #slasher fic #slasher headcanons #slasher x you #slasher x reader #writing requests

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morwap · 2 years

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𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄

dom!danny johnson x sub!fem!reader | mini fic | nav | phone sex, masturbation/guided masturbation, voyeurism, stalking, mention of taking pics of you, mention of making porn, praise, degradation, panty stealing and sniffing, squirting, sir kink

part two

“you can see me?” you asked, looking around your house, pressing your house phone closer to your ear. your bottom lip tucked between your teeth to keep you from smirking. whipping your head around to peek out the sliding doors you had then to the windows in your kitchen.

“course i can, doll, purple really does wonders on you”

his cocky tone made you scoff. furrowing your brows as you looked down at your black shirt, getting ready to say something sassy back but once you put your hand on your hip and sighed you realized he wasn’t walking about your shirt, he was talking about your light purple panties.

rubbing your legs together as you looked around again. you went to speak and he interrupted you.

“though, the white with red dots are a personal favorite but i dont know if you’ll get them back.” the line went silent for a moment, then a deep inhale was faintly heard. “you smell so good bunny”

you laughed, “perv” you muttered and started walking to your couch and plopping down onto it.

moving your feet to the coffee table, planting them comfortably and leaning back and parting your legs slightly. your hand coming to play with the elastic of your panties.

“you gonna put on a show for me, bunny?” he asked.

“will i get my underwear back?” you asked, raising a brow as your fingers started to slip into your panties, teasing him and them back out and then playing with the little bow that was made out of a silky material.

“maybe” ghostface said, dragging it out playfully.

“lets make a deal then? i will let you watch me, only, if you give them back.” you hummed, tilting your head as you waited for his answer. hearing him hum as if he was thinking it through.

“i think you’ve got yourself a deal bunny” he said, you just knew he had a smirk on his face and probably his hand in his pants.

you let a small giggle leave your lips before sitting the phone down on the cushion next to you before slowly pulling up your shirt—the purple set now on display for him. throwing it to floor before bringing the phone back to your ear and leaning back.

your hands moving into your panties, lightly grazing along your folds before pulling your hand out and grazing yourself over your underwear.

teasing yourself, getting yourself worked up enough that a little wet spot of your arousal was forming—darkening the fabric and you hoped he was able to see it as you heard some ragged breaths through the phone then some ruffling and then soft grunts and more hard breathing.

dipping back into your panties and gathering your wetness on your middle and ring finger and spread it from your entrance to your clit then started slow circles on the bud. your breath was picking up and you wanted to wiggle around but stayed still for your audience.

“cmon bunny don’t be a tease, be a good girl n’take the panties off for me” he groaned, voice low and more clear. did he have the voice modulator off?

you hummed in agreement and sat the phone back down, fingers hooking around the fabric and your lifted up and pulled off, taking them off your ankles and dropping the purple garment onto the ground.

finding your previous position quickly, fingers back to your clit and slowly reopening your legs and hearing him curse under his breath made you giggle.

“there we go. god, look at you, fucking dripping.” ghostface moaned, hearing a click through the phone but you didn’t question it.

your back arching a bit as you did faster circles on your clit, letting your mouth open and eyes close, moaning out and feeling your thigh twitch as a pleasurable shock ran through your body when your finger tips ran over the bud.

“spread your pretty fucking cunt open for me” he instructed, more clicks were heard as you mumbled a quick ‘yes sir’

taking your attention off your clit and moving your folds apart, your middle finger did up strokes on clit as you heard more clicks over the phone.

“since you’re being so good i might let you see the pictures, you’re very photogenic by the way.” he teased, so that was the clicking noise.

“maybe next time since you’re so shy right now, we could make a movie” you teased back, looking around to every dark corner you could see. he chuckled through the phone.

you moved your fingers to your hole, middle finger teasing yourself by shallowly dipping your finger in then circling around it.

moaning loudly as you pushed your middle finger into your cunt, your head going back and digging into the cushion. hearing a little mumble of “oh fuck” before you started moving your finger in and out.

you moaned again once you started picking up speed, your palm grinding against your clit making it even better though you wished it was his fingers, his tongue, his cock, whatever he wanted to give you.

“feels good dont it doll?” ghostface asked, a moan slipping from him at the end. you nodded and hummed an ‘mhm’.

“add another finger, i know you can” he ordered, biting your lip as you slowed and added your ring finger. picking your pace up again, spreading your legs wider, muscles burning at the strain.

swears and moans and gasps left your mouth as you continued to fuck yourself with your fingers, hips starting to roll into the thrusts and your palm dragged against your clit each time you moved your fingers in.

you started to feel the knot tightening in your lower abdomen, knowing you were getting closer and closer to your release. whining into the phone as you heard him saying how cute you looked.

“cmon bunny, i can tell youre close, let go” he huffed. your fingers going faster and harder.

“fuck m’gonna cum” you cried, moaning and face scrunching up in pleasure as he was telling to ‘be a good girl and cum’ but you could barely comprehend what he was saying to you as you felt the coil snap, your body hot and starting to get a thin sheen of sweat.

feeling the gush start from between your thighs, quickly moving your fingers to rub your clit. basically screaming in pleasure as you squirted.

“holy shit bunny, good girl-good fucking girl.” you heard him moan as he found his own release.

rubbing your clit as you were now coming down from your high, only stopping when it started to get overstimulating and a bit uncomfortable. letting your hand rest on your stomach as you listened to him breathe over the phone while you caught your breath.

closing your legs and eyes as you gathered yourself.

“didnt know you were a squirter bunny.” ghostface breathed out, the voice modulator was back on and it made you jump then relax. you laughed and heard rustling through the phone before the line went dead.

letting the phone rest on your chest and you groaned as you realized you were need to reshower and clean up your mess.

sitting up and grabbing your shirt and panties from the ground. getting up and sitting the phone on the charging dock in the kitchen before walking to your small laundry room.

sighing as your tried to the light switch, finally switching it on.

you smiled as you were met with a damp towel and a dry one folded neatly on your dryer and your white with red dots panties were on the floor. tilting your head and lifting a brow as you bent to pick them up and a polaroid was under them.

feeling your underwear and feeling something sticky, you gasped as you realized it was covered in his cum. you couldnt help but laugh a bit as you picked up the picture.

it was of him using your panties to jerk off with, taking in the image. cock out, panties around his length and a gloved hand mid stroke.

flipping it over and seeing he had written something on the back.

“see you soon ;0”

#danny johnson x reader smut #danny johnson smut #morwaps.dark #danny johnson x you #dbd danny johnson #dead by daylight #dead by daylight ghostface #jed olsen ghostface #danny johnson ghostface #ghostface smut #ghostface x reader #jed olsen x reader #dbd jed olsen #morwaps.nsfw.#jed olsen #danny johnson #jed olsen smut

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yourbestprincess · 5 months

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Could I get some Danny Johnson (ghostface) with just some fluffy headcannons with an S/O who is extremely touch-starved and clingy, like always has to have a hand on then kind of thing.

LORD YES 🙏🙏🙏 I’m gonna do half fluff n the other half smut cause why not hehe. this is gonna have lots of ddlg 😔 have fun!!!

FLUFF-

-Danny let’s you touch him all the time. He basically branded you and you’re never gonna get away from him, so he just lets you touch him all the time.

-He treats you like a princess, like oml. But, don’t you dare piss him off or disappoint him or you’re getting punished.

-Since you don’t like to be alone, sometimes he lets you come to help him kill (pre dbd). Like, he’d break into the house of the victim when you were knocking at the door, distracting the victim…then he’d come up behind them, and…SLASH!

-He wouldn’t want you to necessarily kill anyone, but if you did he would find it attractive if you were all bloody, but god forbid if you got hurt. You’re never going out with him again if you get hurt.

-On days where he’s not stalking, he’s on the couch letting you lay in his lap/ sit in his lap. He actually really enjoys this more than he thinks he should.

-Carries you around Dbd style when he’s not in a match. You kinda love it kinda hate it.

-he will hold your hand if you ask.

-he LOVES to hold your thighs.

-he holds you like a baby if you ask.

-This man loves to just drive you around.

- Eventually, after a month or so, he’ll take off his mask around you.

-Always carry’s his knife when you two go out incase someone tries to hurt you.

SMUT-

-Lord have mercy, this man is rough as FUCK. He will literally fuck you for hours.

-He throughly loves overstimulating you. He loves it so much.

-He loves to use his knife to make you bleed. He will never cut too deep though. If he ever got the urge to go deeper he throws the knife and becomes only A LITTLE bit gentler.

-he would definitely enjoy car sex.

-he lets you suck his fingers while you’re fucking.

-loves loves LOVES being called daddy. Don’t ask me why, he just does.

-he loves your size difference.

-He also loves to chase you around, it turns him on to the max.

-pulls your hair enough to make you whine sometimes.

-if you ever dressed up as him he would be so aroused.

-uses his Polaroid SO MUCH. This man has to buy so much film because of you. Before you knew what he looked like, he would go to your work and place the pictures by your desk/work area and lurk around to watch your reaction to them.

-this man is SO HORNY. All the time. 24/7. He is ALWAYS down. (I mean, have you SEEN his mori?!?)

#danny johnson #danny jed olsen johnson #ghostface dead by daylight #ghostface #slasher smut #slasher x reader #dead by daylight #dbd killer #dbd smut #dead by daylight ghostface #ghostie #ghostface x you

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writing-for-me-at-this-point · 1 year

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Obsession | Ghostface, Danny “Jed Olsen” Johnson | Dead By Daylight

Summary. the ghostface isn’t known to be gentle, but when it comes to his... obsession, he can’t seem to bring out anything other than a wicked devotion that many could only envy, even if his muse couldn’t accept it just yet.

Warnings. intimacy, suggestive material, heavy petting, yandere vibes for ghostface tbh

Reader. Female reader <3

Word Count. 1392 words

Authors Notes. another danny fic lets gooooooooooooooo, only spell check was used and i wrote this in only an hour and a half while watching house of the dragon and barely able to speak english at this point. i love commas if you couldnt tell that already lmao. enjoy!

Obsession

the state of being obsessed with someone or something.

"she cared for him with a devotion bordering on obsession"

an idea or thought that continually preoccupies or intrudes on a person's mind.

plural noun: obsessions

ㅡ”without obsession, life is nothing.” John Waters

There was something in the way he held you that made his grip secure, where you could feel the groove under every knuckle and the rise of his calloused skin, it was safe. It was comforting, really, if you ignored the suffocating reality that this wasn’t a choice of your own free will, and that your current situation was one that you had to become accustomed to. Large, needy hands move around you as you lay on your back, and you remain still enough for him to get comfortable on you.

His mask is shifted upwards slightly enough to see his lips, a wicked smile shows between them, and you feel a shiver up your spine as your body relaxes enough for the Ghostface to not know of your own inner turmoil's that are hidden behind your eyes and above your heart. He rests his head on your chest, face turned up into the crook of your neck and shoulder, his mask laying on the other side of your body while a killer finds comfort in your warmth- legs open and his weight crushing you in an oddly pleasant way.

He smells of leather, iron, and cologne, his hair is longer than usual, the short black tufts have now become loose curls that tickle the side of your face and neck. His scruff is starting to grow, you note, feeling it scratch your skin as he nuzzles into you further to comfort himself. He finally stills, and you let out a small sigh, giving yourself some time to shift under him for your own comfort.

He's cold, so unbelievably cold, and he saps the warmth your body created like a leech does to an open sore. Your heart picks up a bit as you feel his gaze on you, looking through the flesh and into a deeper part of yourself that even you refuse to acknowledge. His eyes aren't meeting yours, yours are closed, relaxed, and moving behind the darkness of your lids, His eyes stare into your skin, looking up, unmoving.

He’s waiting, you realize. Your hand twitches, before slowly coming up to rake your nails through his hair, a satisfied hum leaves his throat through unopened lips. But his eyes don't close. He expects more from his gaze. His muse. His lover.

Another hand, at the same pace as its successor, moves under the opened leather jacket, before finding its way under more cloth to the cool feel of his back. He isn’t a corpse, but he lacks so much warmth, you almost worry for him,

“Keep going.” He's curt, but his voice is soft, as you realize that this is Danny you're in the presence of. Your fingertips are warm, and the palm of your hand even more so, and as your dignity falls into nothing Danny finds himself pleased as you fall to him whims of your own volition.

For a killer, one who lacks a heart, who lacks every shred of humanity that is expected of a man, he finds himself at the mercy of his instinct. He’s needy, clingy, desperate for your attention. The beast that craves the screams of his victims, a ghost in the night, a monster that thrives off playing with the mind of his victims finds himself at the feet of an unwilling woman whom he can't imagine a life without.

You start to scratch at his back lightly, and his skin raises at the attention, begging for more of you, before flattening your palm to soothe the red flesh. His mind is full of static, and he presses himself into your body even more, the need to crawl into your skin becomes more and more evident as he stares into your body once again, and your anxiety spikes.

He feels how your body reacts to him, fearful, yet pleased. Hesitant, but yearning. You enjoy the attention he gives you, the feeling of knowing how you’d never be rejected by him in any way, shape, or form. Your heart and body fight your mind as you force yourself to remember the blood that stains his hands, the thrill he feels chasing down his prey, his victims, and the subsequent glee as they take their final breaths under a hunting knife as the phone line is cut.

You were never going to be one of them. He assured you that.

You were to be worshiped by him, to have your feet kissed and your body touched with love and safety, to have your needs provided for as you keep him sane by merely allowing him to be near you- to take what he needs from you.

But he also can't deny the jump of his heart when your voice quivers underneath him, or when you jump as you realize he's in the room much later than the time he entered it, the way you fight the urge to lean into him and his hands hold your face or when they grab at your hips.

He was in love with the way your skin felt against his, searing hot, as your bodies molded together in a way he can only describe as perfection. The way you style your hair to fit your face in the most pleasing manner, how you bite at your lip or cheek when thinking or absentmindedly, the way your fingers would tap against the countertops or the wheel of your car as music plays- either aloud or in your own head. Everything about you screamed at him to worship that part with every part of his being, his newfound, and unknown obsession.

He mouths at your neck while you continue to massage and scratch at his back, playing and pulling at his hair at the same time, His mind races with need as you take in a quick take of air, a broken whimper leaving your throat as he continues to mark up your neck as best as he could, his own hand coming up to your jaw, to hold your figure in place before you squirm as you usually do when in his hands.

Your senses are overwhelmed by him, the way he feels, the way his body looks laid on top of you as a mess of ebony rests just under your chin, his scent filling becoming stronger as he manages to somehow get even closer. You hear the sound of his mouth on your skin, his heavy breathing, the sounds that leave him before he slowly moves his hips into yours- leaving you pawing at his hair and skin as your own hips move to meet his.

He overwhelms you. He leaves you needy and empty, craving more of him as your mind screams to just leave him and run, but those thoughts are only pushed back further and further into your head as the emptiness and need grows more in importance at that moment.

You know he’d never hurt you, even if you asked, because he can’t bring himself to.

It brings you comfort as you fall into him, allowing your heart to open up, and he notices rather quickly.

Your body finally is able to relax, sinking into the bed under his weight, no longer fighting to keep yourself up. Allowing yourself to sigh and move your own hips against his, before you tug at his clothes in a silent beg for more and it leaves Danny feral for your need.

He grins again, wicked and delighted, teeth against your skin as you finally fall into his touch. He’d gladly lay himself bare for you, ready and waiting, watching in delight as dark eyes watch as you finally start to take what you need from him.

His obsession leaves him weak for you, open, and bare.

And it leaves you hungry, and watchful, moving to please the both of you.

It soon grows, and the obsession is a mutual agreement, of blood and kisses, with bared teeth and needy hands, playful and curious as time goes on.

It's an obsession, yes, you’ll admit that later on.

But is that so wrong?

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ghqstfqce · 2 years

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¡Hola! Espero que te encuentres bien y tengas un excelente día. Tengo un pedido, ¿Podrías hacer headcannons para Danny Johnson con un Lector que es su mejor amigo@ de la infancia, pero se tuvieron que separar porque Lector tuvo que mudarse y después se reencuentran cuando Danny ya es Ghostface? + Lector era el crush de la infancia de Danny (Algo así estaría bien, también si es posible me gustaría que no se especifique el género del lector)

Warnings || Mención de asesinatos. Leve comportamiento obsesivo y posesivo. Acoso, es Danny. Mención de peleas. No se si algo de esta relación cuenta como suavidad, lol. Puede ser tanto platónico como romántico, tómenselo como gusten, pero Danny quiere ser más que amigos. Use el genérico masculino al hablar de Danny y Reader, pero use Ellx como pronombres.

Pairing || Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson x GN ! Reader

WA || 1k.

Notas de Autor || Ok, solo decidí ponerme a escribir antes de tiempo solo por esta solicitud. Amo muchísimo a Danny, es uno de mis cuatro asesinos favoritos de DBD, si pudiera, me casaría con este hombre.

¿Crees que este hombre desarrolló su insana actividad de acosar siendo ya mayor? No, siendo un niño también era algo fisgón en la vida de sus vecinos. Se aburría con rapidez, pero las miradas persistentes a las ventanas ajenas ahí estaba.

Hasta que te mudaste al vecindario y oh, sorpresa, la casa junto a la suya. Contrario a sus espionajes anteriores, el tuyo fue constante, estaba tan intrigado en ti, tu persona, tu vida y todo lo que te rodeará.

Le tomó un tiempo antes de acercarse, primero tuvo que asegurarse de espantar a los demás niños que querían ser tus amigos y no era tan difícil, Danny ya era considerado un pequeño bicho raro ante todos, que se agregarán algunas amenazas no hizo daño.

Tú yo inconsciente tomó todo lo que Danny quiso ofrecerte, nadie quería ser tu amigo más que este agradable chico de al lado, somos mejores amigos ahora.

Irían de un lado a otro siempre juntos, estaban casi pegados por la cadera y aunque tu papá se sentía preocupado, sus madres no podrían evitar estar tan felices y enternecidas por sus interacciones.

Danny siempre te defendía de los niños mayores cuando éstos querían un pequeño saco de boxeo, te ayudaba con tu tarea aunque fuera un grado más arriba y recorrían el camino de la escuela de ida y de regreso, siempre tomados de la mano.

Danny te invitaría a dormir a su casa o tú a la tuya, no importaba dónde, pero Danny no se separaba de ti, al menos que sus padres dijeran o hicieran lo contrario y aún así, Danny se enfurruñaria hasta que volvieras a su lado.

Su rutina no cambió nunca, simplemente fueron creciendo y Danny tendría pensamientos más oscuros, los cuales tú escucharías alegremente y sin querer, alentarias dichas ideas.

Al principio no lo sabría, pero conforme crecían, Danny se daba cuenta que te quería mucho más que para mantener una amistad y aunque si por él fuera estarían juntos desde los 10, sabía que debía esperar.

Solo que sus planes se vieron quemados frente a él cuando corriste llorando a decirle que te mudabas. Él no lo creía, sólo te veía y te sujetaba sin fuerza alguna. No podías irte, eras suyx para estar juntos y conservar, eso era imposible.

Hasta que a la mañana siguiente se quedó en la banqueta frente a tu casa, esperando, esperando y esperando, hasta que su mamá tuvo que llevarlo a la escuela.

Danny no aceptará nunca esto, pero tu partida agravó todos los problemas que ya tenía y aunque ha logrado disimularlos con el tiempo, aún está tan resentido con tus padres por separarte de él.

Aquí hay dos posibilidades de reencuentro, que fueras tomadx por la Entidad o que se encontrarán en Roseville.

Si es en Roseville, podrías reconocerlo inmediatamente, estabas por atenderlo a él y sus compañeros de oficina en el restaurante para el que trabajabas, cuando reconociste ese cabello y algunos rasgos del niño que fue tu amigo de infancia.

Estabas listx para llamarlo por su nombre, hasta que escuchaste a uno de los hombres llamarlo Jed, estabas tan confundidx pero segurx de que era él, pero lo descartaste como ideas tuyas.

Él no, él vio como estabas por hablar, como esa D resbalaba de tu lengua y como tu sonrisa disminuye a algo falso, solo servicio al cliente.

Tomó todo de él para no tomarte ahí mismo y llevarte a su casa, lo quería tanto. Habías estado años lejos de él, no permitiría más tiempo separados.

Después de ese día en el restaurante, ni podías dejar de sentir que alguien te observaba y aunque muchos en tu lugar estarían asustados, tú no. Algo en tus recuerdos infantiles te decía que así te sentiste antes de conocer a Danny, así que, ¿Danny estaba cerca? Esperabas qué si.

Claro, lo último que esperabas era terminar con un asesino en serie sobre ti, presionando un cuchillo contra tu cuello, todo mientras su mano libre te acariciaba con tanta vehemencia. No podía creerlo, su (T/N) estaba aquí, habías vuelto a sus brazos.

Nuevamente, tu reacción no fue la más cuerda, pero cuando dicho asesino se quitaba su máscara para dejarte ver al hombre de otro día, no, no al hombre; al chico que dejaste atrás hace tantos años en otro pueblo en Florida, no podías evitar abalanzarte para abrazarlo.

Danny estaba confundido, tan confundido. ¿No gritos? ¿No preguntas? ¿No te defenderías?

Pero aún así, no podía evitar sentirse tan cálido por dentro, sabía que eras especial, cuando lo escuchabas hablar de sangre y cuerpos de pequeño con solo una pequeña sonrisa en tu rostro o palabras distraídas de aliento, eras para él.

¿Se reencuentran en el reino de la Entidad? Oh, chico, espero que Danny este preparado, porque no dejaras que un idiota en un traje de Halloween te atormente cuando acabas de llegar a un lugar desconocido.

Si su primer encuentro fuera en tu primer juicio, no sé arriesgara a quitar su máscara. No estará ya en el mundo real, pero ninguno de esos imbéciles, aparte de ti, merece ver su rostro.

Estará molesto porque eres muy buenx tirando de tus golpes, pero disfrutará la persecución y podrá dejarlo pasar porque aún no sabes quien está bajo la máscara, le emociona como no dudas en burlarte de él y golpearlo si es necesario.

Al principio su relación será un poco amor-odio o de amor duro. Estas tan molesto, no ves a Danny desde que tienes 11 años y la pequeña mierda cree que puede apuñalarte, estas cabreadx. Si, podrá ser obligado por dicha Entidad, pero también sabes que lo disfruta, si es que sus pensamientos no cambiaron desde que eran niños.

Él te buscaría todos los días cerca de la fogata, al inicio tratas de ignorarlo, hasta que sus lloriqueos se hacen molestos y los demás supervivientes no dudan en lanzarte miradas sucias(las cuales no pasarán desapercibidas para él, nadie mira mal a su (T/N)).

Su relación volverá a iniciar con algunas dificultades, pero no duda que caerán en las viejas costumbres, después de todo, sigue siendo el Danny que conociste hace tanto, solo ya mayor.

#danny johnson x reader #danny johnson x you #danny johnson x y/n #danny johnson x gn reader #jed olsen x reader #jed olsen x you #jed olsen x y/n #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #ghostface x y/n #ghostface x gn reader #dead by daylight x you #dead by daylight x y/n #dead by daylight x reader

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