danny johnson, despite his charismatic and utterly sarcastic nature, was a relatively private man.
he didn’t wear his insecurities on his sleeve, he didn’t let his heart guide his decisions.
and you got a very different version of him than others did. of course he was still witty and infuriating, teasing you with a wicked grin when his knife would accidentally slide across your skin when he walked by. he would team up with frank or susie to prank you—susie would always feel bad after, curling up into your side and showing you her new blades and small bracelets she’d made.
but, there was a part of danny that he despised.
his health.
you always noticed it when a pallet was thrown on him, a jagged breath of air. sure, you exhaled in strain and exertion when the wood thudded against you, but danny’s breathing was different. it was staticky, unstable.
it would take him longer to recollect his breath.
a particularly grueling trial had him laid on the couch, tossing the red chunk of plastic in the air repeatedly. it was a fresh fill, courtesy of julie and the ever diligent joey. they had gone out to see sally while she was in a good mood, returning with a refilled inhaler concealed within joey’s hoodie.
danny’s asthma wasn’t necessarily secret, but it wasn’t common knowledge either.
the legion knew, sally knew, you knew, and that was really it. you were fairly certain some of the survivors had caught on after their several trials against him, but you had never heard anything about it.
you sat down next to his legs, and his warm eyes met yours. “how’d your trial go, lovie? kill ‘em all?” he asked, moving to tuck the inhaler away. you reached for it, stopping him gently. danny stared at you, a flicker of insecurity and disdain.
“didn’t see you use it,” you quietly said.
“shouldn’t have to use it,” he spat, tearing his wrist from your hand, “fuckin’ weak enough to need a piece of plastic and some tinned air.” you paused, eyes narrowing, “fix that.”
danny’s tension loosened, placing the inhaler in your hand, “i’m sorry.” you nodded once, twisting the inhaler between your fingers. he glared at it like it had personally wronged him—and in his mind, it had—and you held it to his lips.
“i’d rather you breathe air into me,” he winked, tiny smile falling at your deeply unimpressed expression.
“damn you,” he muttered, lips pursing around the inhaler. you pressed on the capsule, watching him breathe deep. you repeated it two more times, pulling it away and placing it on the small side table. “good boy,” you fondly stroked his hair, your lips quirking up at the way his eyes just sparkled.
“okay, new rule,” he sat up, hands finding your waist and manhandling you onto his lap, “you must praise me every time i use that damn thing.”
you shrugged, hands cradling his face, “‘kay.”
if danny had a tail, it would be wagging.
“new rule,” you echoed, smiling at the way he groaned, “i’ll only praise you if you let me do it for you.” he visibly pondered, biting his lip until he eventually nodded in agreement, “i don’t mind. ‘s long as you sit pretty on my lap. love you sittin’ here, making me do somethin’ i hate.” you kissed his cheek, tan skin warm against your mouth, “i don’t hate it.”
“don’t say some sweet shit,” he mused, “makes me hard, y’know?”
“you’re disgusting.”
“mm, tell me that again.”
“danny,” you exasperated, feeling the way his hands gently began to massage your thighs. “yeah, baby? tell me.”
“i love you and your weak lungs, okay?”
danny met your gaze, and he looked at you like you’d hung the stars. he melted into your palms, almost purring at the sensation of your fingers running through his hair.
“you’re the best, lovie,” his lips pressed to yours, “i love you.”
you returned his affections, heart aching at the way he nuzzled into you. a quiet knock at the door made you peek up, but danny’s head remained laying on your chest. you could tell he was spent, exhausted from the trial earlier. you hadn’t even thought to ask him how it went, far too concerned with him taking his medicine.
“it’s me,” susie barely crept inside, “can i come in?”
“come on, kiddo,” danny held out an arm, and she entered. she looked upset. you frowned at the sliver of bandage peeking from under her sleeve, gesturing her over. the two of you sat up, and susie sat on the couch in the way she always took up space—small and silent. “what’s wrong?” you asked, reaching for her hands.
“julie got…mad at me,” she admitted, “i, um, messed up in a trial. i got blood hungry for one, and t—two got out. joey cleaned me up and sent me out so they could deal with her.” she lifted a hand to wipe away stray tears.
“hey, hey,” danny cooed, arms wrapping around her and leaning back against the arm of the couch, “we all have our days. did i ever tell you about the first time they all got out?”
“no,” she meekly replied, her voice watery and uneven, “all of them?”
“yep, all of them,” danny confirmed, holding the teen close. you tossed your legs over his lap, grabbing the throw off the back of the cushion and draping it over susie. you listened to danny tell his story, the dreadful trial where all four survivors escaped.
“ain’t a thing wrong with havin’ a bad day,” danny soothed, feeling how susie began to relax against him after crying her heart out, “even excellency like me and perfect geniuses like my girl have rough trials.”
“what happened to your arm, hun?” you asked once danny had concluded, gently rubbing her back. “one of the guys,” she answered quietly, “jumped at me through a window.”
“ouch,” danny winced.
susie hummed, and you watched fondly as she drifted to sleep. you and danny exchanged worried looks, a silent understanding that the two of you would have words with julie. susie was a sensitive girl, and you understood her beyond belief. she didn’t like solo trials, she hated to be left alone against four survivors she really didn’t want to kill.
a firm knock made you carefully climb off the couch, and danny kept susie warm and comfortable as you shifted. he, however, did not pass the opportunity to land his palm against your ass, to which you glared as he snickered.
you cracked the door open, spotting frank.
“is she okay?” he asked. frank wasn’t kind necessarily, but he certainly cared for his friends. he was murderous and malicious, but his heart was soft for sweet susie.
“she’s sleeping,” you allowed him to look inside, and he nodded at the sight of susie curled up with danny. “we talked to julie,” frank sighed, and you sent danny a thumbs up as you stepped out. you tilted your head in question.
“julie’s…a lot,” he said, “and she’s passionate, which i love about her, but sometimes she gets fuckin’ mean. i can handle it, but susie can’t.”
you nodded for him to go on.
“she had a bad trial, and it wasn’t even that damn bad. she ain’t gone solo in months, ‘nd she got two out of that thing. julie’s on a streak, so her performance wasn’t good enough, i guess.”
“that’s not an excuse to berate her,” you sighed, “she bawled her eyes out, frankie.”
he nodded solemnly, and he looked genuinely apologetic. you tensed when the door behind you opened, danny leaning against the doorframe. “heya, frankie,” he greeted, and you peeked back in. susie was still fast asleep on the couch, hugging a pillow beneath the blanket.
“she’s gonna stay the night,” danny’s tone left no room for arguing, “tell julie she’s comin’ with me next trial.”
frank dipped his chin. he and julie idolized danny, and you often saw the resemblance in the way they carry themselves in the trials. “yes, sir,” he grunted under his breath, “tell susie i said sorry, and that we talked to julie.”
“will do,” you patted his head playfully, and he grinned as he walked away. danny redirected you back inside the room by your waist. you returned to the couch, pausing when you saw susie lying awake with teary eyes.
“oh, honey,” you whispered, arms dipping beneath her and holding her against you. she hugged you, her pink hair tumbling from under her hood. you gently tucked it back, feeling danny slide in behind you. his arm tossed over you, his hand tenderly rubbing susie’s back.
“i’ll set her straight, kiddo,” he teased, “she’s gonna hate trials with me after tomorrow.”
a watery laugh rumbled from her chest, and you smiled at the sound. it was quiet for a minute, and the door made a sound again. danny groaned, nearly faceplanting in the process of getting off the couch. he swung the door open dramatically, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
julie stood there, pill bottles in her hands.
“susie’s meds,” she said shortly, “she’s won’t sleep all night without them. she gets antsy.”
“hm,” danny hummed, taking them from her, “see you tomorrow.” she didn’t reply, but danny caught the worried and remorseful glance she sent susie before walking away. he caught joey standing at the bottom of the stairs, a clean blade held loosely in his hands. he figured the boy must have a trial soon.
“susie-q,” danny cooed, kneeling over her. she peered up from her place in your arms. “got your meds, need t’take ‘em.”
she sat up without fighting, but her face showed her obvious distaste. counting out the pills from each bottle and tossing them back, you handed her a bottle of water from the side table, watching her drink them down. “back to sleep now,” danny coaxed her back into your arms, “it tastes real bad, but medicine makes ya strong.”
he froze, his inhaler practically laughing at him from its place on the wood. you gave him a look, lips pursed to keep from giggling.
“oh, does it now?” you mused.
“lovie.”
“no really, i mean, if you are advocating for medicine, it must be life-altering stuff—“
danny slapped a hand over your mouth, unable to resist a smile at the way your eyes glinted with mirth and the way they crinkled as you grinned. “go to sleep, baby, y’gonna disturb susie-q over here,” he practically pleaded, laying down next to you.
he hoped he wouldn’t have to get up again.
he reassumed his position of the big spoon, you as the middle spoon, and susie perfectly safe and warm as the little spoon.
he sighed.
damn that inhaler.
riotrants: reader and danny are the parents of the legion i do NOT make the rules. susie is my BABY.
cw! : cunnilingus, unprotected!piv, knife, blood, Danny carving his name into your skin, squirting, rough, dbd lore centered, ooc!Danny maybe 🤔 just a lil something something :P
The fog settled on the ground beneath you, like it always did when you could only remember the campfire’s warmth as you explored the realm around you.
You had found a hideout almost two days ago. The unforgettable smell of paper that was pungent in there made you kinda miss it - there were notebooks lying around, half of them empty and the other half full of information of the people that were here before you. It was a warm place - a place you actually felt at rest among the trees and the fog. It all felt so far away - the trials, the killers. But that thick fog that just wouldn’t seem to let anyone go. That thick fog that brought you here.
The leaves and sticks crunched beneath the soles of your shoes, your clothes almost enveloped by the fog, as you spotted the hideout in the distance. You quietly hurried toward it, heart pumping with excitement to isolate yourself and finally relax. It was slightly cold, your skin broke out into goosebumps and your teeth started clattering slightly. Just a little further.
The squeaky, rusty hinges of the rotten wooden door creaked as you opened it, looking around the place. You had really cleaned up here. Most of the spider webs were gone, in places you could reach, and the dust wasn’t as thick as it was before. Grabbing a book from the one room shack, belonging to an old survivor probably, you skimmed through the lines of it and found new things out about this realm.
You were so focused on reading the notes that you didn’t even hear the leaves crunching beneath someone’s light footsteps. Not even the loud twig snapping that had occurred just outside the door.
Finally, your attention was on the door as it slowly started to open. You hid in the corner behind the door, trying to be quiet. Trying to get your mind on keeping still as you sat on the floor, your movements fully restrained. You didn’t want to look. You had to. You were behind the door. There wasn’t anything else to hide behind.
The footsteps came inside. Your breath hitched, and then you decided to hold it. Quiet. You had to stay quiet. Your eyes were wide open as your hands went to cover your mouth. The heavy boots this person wore stopped clashing with the floor. They were standing still now.
A slow creak of the floorboard indicated new movement. But this time, you could see it. Black hood peering over behind the door, white, plastic mask with dark eyes and long mouth. The Ghost Face.
“Lookie here.” He giggled cynically.
You whimpered out in fear. Your body started shaking and your heart pumped at a million beats per second.
Run.
It was the only thing that came to your mind, the only thing you could even do. Until you tried. Your body just wouldn’t move, it wouldn’t budge, you couldn’t even breathe anymore. This was death. Certainly.
You couldn’t even speak, not even to plead for your life. You bet he liked it when they begged. All of the other victims of him.
“What’s wrong, baby? Cat got your tongue?” He teased, and the tone in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. This sadist motherfucker. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He tried reassuring. Yeah, for sure. A violent serial killer from the real world would totally not hurt you, he’d be too nice!
You tried speaking.
“W-why? I mean, I-I don’t get it.” You stuttered and mumbled like a child learning to speak for the first time. You just felt so completely out of control.
“W-w-why?” He mocked, taking his mask off and crouching to your level. “Because I’m feeling generous. And…” he looked you up and down. “I like you.”
You flushed. Feeling the heat rushing to your face, you tried to distract yourself, only ending up sneezing. That always happened, for some reason. Especially when you were flustered.
“Bless you, baby. Getting shy?” Your confusion showed itself through your facial expressions, but also, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to calm the heat between your legs.
This guy was a fine man. You had never seen him without his mask on, jet black hair, tired eyes and deathly pale skin. He truly did have a ghost face. His dark brown eyes traced your body like he was trying to find something.
“N-no.”
No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop stuttering. You were a grown ass woman with a degree, for god’s sake. But he was a grown man with a knife. So that’s reasonable again.
“Yeah, I think you are.” He slammed the door closed with a chuckle. And once he looked away to do that, you pounced on him.
You didn’t know what you were trying. Were you trying to get his knife? Were you trying to grind your pussy on his crotch, doing all the work yourself? Decisions, decisions.
Straddling him, you managed to squeak out “I’m not shy.” in a very quiet tone. “Hm? Louder, baby, I can’t hear you.” He urged, and you could feel yourself getting irritated. I mean, who the fuck does he think he is? You slapped his bare face.
But you oblige. You haven’t gotten laid in what felt like forever since you got into the realm. This was your golden fucking ticket, and you wanted it now. Ever since you found this spot, your fingers did the trick. You missed your vibrator back home, your shower head, your everything.
“I’m not shy.” You said louder and clearer instead of mumbling into your shirt.
“You’re not, clearly. You’re on top of a killer, sweetheart, how does that make you feel? Powerful, hm? Like you’re in control after slapping me?” He questioned, trailing his hand up your chest, cupping it gently, before squeezing hard.
“Yeah! It does! S-shit!” You grunt out in pain, and he lets go. “Really? Well, if you’re in control, I can just lay back, can’t I? Just grind yourself on me, that’s the only foreplay you’re getting.”
He knew that was a lie. But you started moving, rubbing your clothed cunt up and down his bulge, so so desperate for the slightest amount of touch.
You couldn’t even lie, he felt so good. You could tell he was big enough to split you in half once you kept going, and he was even hotter than in the trials. He was a good looking guy, and his mannerisms in trials were even more attractive. He used to let you go, drop chase and give you hatch at the end, but you didn’t know it’s just cause he wanted to fuck you. And it’s not like you didn’t want it too.
You were rubbing your pussy up and down, the black leather of his robe feeling smooth against it, not giving you the friction you wanted.
Letting out a small, needy whimper, you looked up at him with big, sweet doe eyes and a pout, trying to get him to actually fuck you straight. He snickered in response. “Mm. You’re so whiny, aren’t you? Cmon baby, sit on my face.”
Fuck.
You had never done that before. You’ve had your fair share of good times and such, but sitting on someone’s face was a first. Your face didn’t get any less warm as you looked at him, surprise in your gaze. He noticed immediately, of course he did. He’s a serial killer, why would he not notice the smallest details?
“Nothing’s gonna happen, sweetheart. Just sit.” You bit your lip, taking off your tattered jeans and your simple, grey cotton panties. “There we go, baby.” He muttered, and you could only squirm. This was so so so wrong. He’s a killer, he’ll probably not even take care of you after, he’s just a man. He’ll probably only use you.
You sat there. On his bulge, still. Not moving a muscle. Just thinking. When he gripped your thighs and ushered you above his face with his own body strength, you finally moved.
“Now sit.” He chuckled. You couldn’t. You would totally suffocate this guy, he looked like he didn’t know his limits, or yours. Or anyone’s, for that matter. Shyly hovering over his head in an uncomfortable half-crouch, half-sit, you didn’t feel his tongue on you at all. But before you could furrow your brows, his veiny, ghostly hands went to your hips, pulling them down onto his face.
You yelped, letting out a string of high pitched, desperate moans as he moved his tongue, lapping at your pussy with a fervour and a hunger, giving you the impression that he’s already so drunk on you.
“O-oh! Mmph- fuck! You’re really good—! At this!” You whine and mewl, and he didn’t stop, urging you to rock forwards on his nose with his hands. His nose nudged against your puffy clit, your eyes watering from the pressure of his tongue on your entrance. Fuck, he was so good at it. Made you wonder how many times he had done it before.
It only took one small thing to push you over the edge - a swirl of his tongue on your sensitive clit as your body shook from the orgasm. “Fuck, Ghostie!” You moaned, earning a smack on your bare ass. You got up, giving him some air.
“It’s Danny.” He told you, kissing your thigh and flipping you both around. He took off his robe, porcelain skin looking sickly white as he was left in his boxers.
Lean. Fit. Sexy.
You could genuinely just cum again from looking at him. Danny was hot, and you wanted it now.
Funnily enough, even if he seemed like the guy that would have tattoos, he doesn’t. There was not an inch of visible skin to notice a tattoo on, maybe because of the identification thing.
“Danny.” You whispered. “Yes?” He mumbled back.
“Fuck me already.” An almost inaudible command from your soft lips. He kissed them and gave you more, just like you wanted.
But maybe not very softly.
Danny rushed in, slamming his cock inside you, balls deep in your warm pussy. The scream you let out was loud and uncomfortable, the burning sensation between your thighs worse.
“What? I thought that’s what you wanted, hm?” He teased, and you let out a sob. “Not that hard!” Tears streaming down your face, you felt pathetic for crying while on a killer’s dick. He couldn’t care less about your feelings or your opinion. He wanted to release some tension.
“I’m sorry baby.. I’ll go easy on you.”
But you didn’t believe that for a second. He slowly slipped back out, trying to accumulate some more wetness of your pussy with his fingers first, then tapping his cock on your sensitive clit. You were so horny now, he looked so good. You pulled him down, almost enough to get him to lay on top of you, and pressed a sweet kiss to his mouth. Chapped lips kissing back, he sank back in way more comfortably than before, slowly picking up the pace.
Your repressed noises came out as small sighs when he pulled away, hips against yours. But he couldn’t have that, no no. He wanted you to cry for him.
“Sweetie… make some noise for me, okay? How’s that sound?”
You replied with a loud moan as he pumped in and out of your dripping wet pussy. At first, he went super slow. An aching pace, slow motions from his fingers on your clit, stimulating you more and more.
You cry out, Danny was going so slow it was getting boring. “Danny, harder.” You whine, a big pout on your face. It made you feel so desperate and pathetic, but you needed it so badly. He wasn’t stimulating you like you wanted.
Danny fully stopped.
You looked him deep in his eyes, and he stared back into yours. What was he even doing? Was he pissed off at you? It was just a small demand. Well, maybe not small. “Alright.” He smirked. You couldn’t even realise what was behind his eyes. Or his face. Or him.
He didn’t need to be told twice. “Tell me when it’s too much.” He mumbled. He flipped you around, getting you on your hands and knees, the rough, dirty wooden floor dug into your limbs, and he started pounding into you like an animal.
“Ahh! Oh- shit! Danny! Fuuuuuuck!” He went at it like crazy, holding your hips while rutting into you at a pace you couldn’t keep up with. You didn’t even know how fast he was going, your brain and your pussy could genuinely just not keep up. You could feel yourself going fully dumb.
“This what you wanted, princess?” You couldn’t even let out a single word since your breath was getting pushed out of you by the thrust. “Yeah it is, isn’t it?” And fuck, it was. It felt so intoxicatingly good, your pussy spasmed more and more, indicating your orgasm soon.
And if the way he was fucking you wasn’t enough, he reached out, your palms still aching, and with cold hands, he grabbed your arms, holding them behind your back, the pressure and pain on your knees intensified. The pull was aching your shoulders and you both kept sighing and moaning. His groans were getting loud too, as well as his thrusts in sputtering intervals. He was actually destroying your sweet, poor pussy, pounding into your sweet spot. That was the final straw.
“Danny! I’m gonna cum, please! Imgonnaimgonnaimgonna, shit!” You squealed, squirting all over his long cock. “Mm, good girl.” The squeeze of your pussy made him fill you up with his cum, warm liquid inside the gummy walls of your cunt. “Shit, there we go. Tight fit.” He smacked your ass. You could feel it spilling out of your entrance, hearing a slightly thick and dull drip of his nut from your pussy as he pulled out. It made you clench.
He slipped back into you, and your aftershocks got more intense when he kept going. Stringing one orgasm after the other in all positions you could think of. You ended with what you started - doggy. And among your desperate pleas for him to give you a break, you heard a knife getting pulled out.
“What the fuck was that?” You panicked, trying to crawl away, but he held you against his balls firmly. “Just a little tattoo machine.” You clenched again. Was this motherfucker about to give you a scar? God, that was hot.
“Shit, Danny.” You moaned. The sharp sting of his knife met your lower back. He started carving what felt like a D. Then an A. “Are you spelling your fucking name on my back like a tramp stamp?” You yelled through clenched teeth, trying to get over the sting. Bastard.
“Yeah baby.” The last thing you could feel was a heart. With one last pat on the ass, he pulled out, and his cum kept spilling out of your aching hole. “Mine.”
Anyone else sneeze when horny? Just me? Ok. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!
SUMMARY : Ghostface witnesses you run back to grab a medkit while actively being hunted. He thinks it’s cute.
TAGS : suggestive but no smut , mild gore , enemies to lovers if you squint
A/N : not beta read :(
You ran, as fast as your feet could. You felt like you were gonna fall, your shoes were barely holding on to your feet. The cut on your arm was making it hard to hold up the Medkit in your hand, if you could just get to Yui, then it would be fine.
She wriggled and writhed, her body trying with all its might to unhook herself. You were close, and just as you got close enough to almost touch her, you heard it.
It was like a heavy breath, and then suddenly you were burning in pain, thrown back against the locker with inhuman force by Ghostface. You crawled, attempting to get as far away as quick as you could.
You see him there, inspecting the area around Yui for any kind of trap. He wandered off soon, seemingly deciding that you weren’t worth his time.
You walk to Yui, reaching up to slip her out off the hook. You struggled to fully unhook her for a moment, your hands still shaking from the close encounter. She thanks you with a hug, but her panting increased your worry. You reach for your medkit, prepared to heal whatever injuries that the hook had left her with.
Your worry raises upon realizing that ghostface had flung you so far from Yui that you had dropped the medkit from your hand. You wanted to tell her to wait, but it could’ve been a death sentence to speak too loud, so you gave her a reassuring hug and gestured for her to kneel and hide for a moment.
She did so, crouching behind a generator and beginning to repair it. You beginning searching through the grass for the medkit, hoping to god you would find it, although God hadn’t been very useful up to this point.
Yui’s unsteady attempts on the generator could be heard, but she managed to correctly fix it, now she just crouched and waited for you.
You spot it, about 3 feet away from you, and you stand up, fully prepared to run for it, hearing the sounds of Kate finish her generator, meaning only one was left.
Jake would’ve been a big help, but he snagged his leg on a branch and managed to get hooked early on. You shutter at the memory, even though you’ve seen it a thousand times, and begin to go for it.
You are almost there until you Yui’s shriek pierce the air around you. You whip your head around, afraid to see but knowing you have to.
Yui is limping away, hand pressed against the wound on her neck as she skips to you. “Shit—“ she says, calling your name in terror. Behind her is ghostface, Hes not speaking but you can see the fury in hiw he moves, wiping the blood clean from his knife and running to grab Yui.
You watch her sprint past, and you begin to run too. Yui is already gone, leaving you and ghostface. He had run after you, his hands ghosting your back as you zig zag without a thought to grab the medkit. He pauses his running, and you watch as he backs away, and turns to go after Kate.
The match ends with you and Yui escaping but Kate dying on the hook and Jake long gone before it had even gotten interesting.
You looked over, resting from the most recent match. You look over, as usual, there are killer staring and taunting. From wh edge of your eyes you can see ghostface, holding something in his hands. He gestures to you, then it. He plants it against the (extremely and oddly durable) fence.
You squint, eyes widening as you realize it’s a picture. But flipped around to where you can only see the back of it. You cautiously walk closer, you know very well the Entity doesn’t find enjoyment in harm coming to the survivors out of the rounds usually, so you aren’t scared. Well, at least not as much as you should be
To be honest, you’re excited. It feels wrong, well it definitely is. But honestly, you aren’t sure how much morality matters anymore. He slips his fingers through the gate, holding the folded picture like a cigarette, offering it to you as your form got closer.
You had tried to make your way past the gate once, in a fit of anger at Trickster. So you were aware of the stinging pain that came from crossing it. But also of the mildly numbing vibration that came with touching the fence. But, you could imagine that his fingers were tingling, and maybe burning since they were through the fence.
You shake the thought from your head, and grab the picture, quick and steady. You unfold the Polaroid, eyes taking in every detail. It’s of Danny. That much you can tell. His mask is pulled up a small bit, only revealing a hint of collarbone. His pants are down, enough to reveal the curve of his cock, but the picture cuts off before you can see the tip.
You stare at it for a moment, then up at him. Then back at it. Then at him again. His face is obscured by his mask, but you can tell hes smiling. He’s nearly vibrating in place.
You open your mouth to say something, but he shoves his hand through the gate, gripping your wrist. The gates affect is working, you can hear the sound of it burning him. He pulls away, but his point has gotten across. He is expecting this to be kept between you two.
You don’t want to nod, or say yes. But you hope slipping the photo into your pocket is an answer.
Your thoughts are confirmed when he grips the fence like he’ll fall down without it.
I think we need to go back to this very important topic :3
- @malusartem
The kisses were louder than the snowy weather outside. Danny's hands were warm against the cold air that passed through the worn wooden walls.
"Danny..." the way you vibrated his name against his lips made him growl with delight towards you. His hands were caressing and kneading your body, leaving a momentary red mark on skin.
He tugged at your lower lip roughly, then took it between his lips and sucked it like the sweetest essence. When your fingers sank into his shoulders he saw it as an invitation,putting even more weight on you. "I swear...if you touch me a little more, I'll slap that fucking hole. "
Danny canonically wearing strong cologne to make his presence known … i think he’d douse on a strong (and expensive) cologne right before breaking into your home at night, just so you know it’s him everytime. He even wears a small spritz out in public on the off chance you two “randomly” ever run into each other. Constantly scanning your face to see if anything clicks for you or not.
Thinking about writing a Danny x Reader fic where Danny plans a kill on a heavily depressed mc. After all his planning, Danny finally reaches mc’s planned death day and they’re okay with it ??? Willing actually ??? Danny is so thrown off with their behavior that he kind of just like backs out of it, but he DOES promise them that he will kill them someday.
Danny would have the mentality of actually wanting a struggle and not his prey WILLINGLY staring into the barrel of the gun.
Mc is thrown off as well bc like, “infamous killer is not going to kill me ??? I guess ???” Danny just ends up playing with his food visiting mc here and there, waiting for SOME other reaction than the willingness to die.
He eventually ends up getting too close to mc, will he end up fulfilling their wish of death or not ?
Am I alive? Am I dead? Will I disappear again after this? I don't know myself man `(*>﹏<*)′
Summary: you've been dealing with a certain criminal stalking you for some time, and a kind journalist working on that criminal's case been your rock and beacon of hope. Although today, you need his support more than anything after experiencing a close call...
Warnings: bold hints at non-con touches, drugging.
Word Count: 4.2k
—"(Y/N)?"—
A smooth and a tag raspy voice yainked (Y/N) out of their thoughts.
—"Y-Yes... I'm so sorry Mr. Olsen. I'm still a bit... Y'know."— you reply, shifting on your seat uncomfortably. —"...Shaken up."—
The man hums, his dark, nearly black eyes focused on them, silently studying their expression and body language.
—"We've seen each other quite a lot lately, I think I told you there is no need for formalities."— he chuckles, which made you involuntarily laugh too.
—"Sorry sorry, Jed. You know how I am."—
—"Hehehe, believe me, I do."—
His gaze momentarily shifts to a voice recorder placed on his desk.
—"Are you okay with me recording this meeting?"—
Now it's (Y/N) that chuckles.
—"I thought you said we've seen each other often lately, and I always say yes."—
—"I know, just makin' sure."—
He presses the button and the device instantly starts the recording judging by the tiny red dot lighting up.
Before making any questions though, the dark haired man extends his hand towards (Y/N), a silent offer he always made during their meetings. He was totally aware it was not professional to hold hands, but how could he not offer some support to them? Especially after the amount of stress he had put them through. He... Ghostface.
(Y/N) takes his hand without a second thought, a little smile appearing on their lips when they felt the man squeezing their palm. They still couldn't get over how warm Jed's hands and body is, he's almost like a human heater! Which kinda made them jealous of whoever his partner is, oh to have someone this warm to cuddle during cold nights.
—"Okay so... Tell me, what do you remember?"—
Jed's eyes were focused on theirs, his gaze, though at times unnerving, was mainly charming and never failed to make (Y/N) stumble over their words for a brief second.
—"Okay, so..."—
. . .
—"For fuck's sake..."—
(Y/N) muttered weakly, their body sluggishly rotating to one side of their bed, limbs partially dangling off the edge as if that would somehow make their existence any less miserable.
They're not sure why, but lately their health has been declining a bit too fast. That seemingly permanent fatigue clung to them like rust to old metal, refusing to release them from it's chokehold regardless of their attempts to battle it.
Sleeping more, drinking coffee, energy drinks... Ugh, absolutely nothing worked. This exhaustion had it's claws sunk deep into their weary muscles, weighting them down lower and lower with each breath they took...
Their eyes shifted to their phone at their desk, forgotten at the very other side of their room. Should they see a doctor? Call a friend to pick them up and take them to the hospital? The idea of a medical bill was already hurting their wallet, but at the same time, they're starting to think if it could be an organ failure behind their sudden health drop.
—"Mhhg... Fuck it..."—
(Y/N) muttered through gritted teeth and made the effort to stand up, their muscles protesting, feeling a whole ton heavier than they should. Their movements were sluggish, clumsy, and as they slowly raised from the bed into a sitting position, the whole room felt like it was spinning.
They swallowed, and swung their legs off the mattress, raising to their feet, knees shaking like the bone inside their legs had turned into literal jelly.
—"Come on..."—
(Y/N) muttered again, voice a bit more breathy from the increasing concern as they made their first step, then another, then one more... Slow steps towards their phone, yet it didn't feel like the desk was getting any closer, but what they did feel is like their body was literally breaking down from it's own weight.
—"Ah-"—
They gasped as their knees gave in suddenly, the tip of their fingers brushing against the edge of the desk before their body hit the ground with a thud, teeth clicking as their chin impacted the cool surface, and oxygen escaping at unceremoniously flopping on their stomach. They felt as if their body was... Decaying from the inside out, their strength, their awareness... Is like these things are fading.
—"The effect is acting faster than I had expected."—
(Y/N)'s body froze, skin suddenly covered in cold sweat. That... That voice.
—"Suppose I did overdo it with the dose... Oh, how careless of me."—
The voice spoke with fake disappointment, yet still carrying a light, almost shaky edge to it. Even with the mask, that stupid, cursed mask that (Y/N) came to hate so much, which muffled his speech ever so slightly, the breathy excitement his tone carried was undeniable.
They barely managed to raise their head enough to turn it to be able to look back. Their throat was burning, they felt like they were about to throw up from the way their gut twisted the moment their weary eyes landed on that figure, again.
Ghostface. Standing at the entrance of their room, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe like he was merely passing by.
The masked man tsked, shaking his head lightly.
—"Oww... You really be giving me the stink eye, bunny? You're almost looking at me like I did something wrong."—
Ghostface spoke with feign hurt, placing one gloved hand over the cheek of his mask, tilting his head to the side as he observed his obsession on the floor, all weakened and defenseless.
—"No... No. What- What did...-"— you paused, genuinely feeling like you were about to throw up from how dizzy you began to feel. —"What did you... D-Do to me?..."—
Ghostface merely hummed, and (Y/N) could've sworn they felt him smirk. That insufferable fuck...
—"Hmm... Nothing I hadn't done previously, mouse."— he stated with a small shrug, finally uncrossing his arms as he casually stood straight and entered the room. —"Same old. Putting some of that sleeping medicine into your food when you weren't around. Although must admit, I overdid a little today."—
The killer stopped beside (Y/N), staring down at their struggling form, still attempting to get onto their knees, yet their limbs had the same cooperativeness level as the tentacles of an exhausted octopus.
—"You just look so sweet after taking them, you know? Out cold. I can pretty much do whatever, and you won't even quirk a muscle."—
(Y/N) froze again, their body flopping onto the cool floor, yet they had barely register the impact this time.
—"I have never been good at holding back my urges."— he continued, lowering himself down until he was squatting, elbows resting on his knees. —"So I couldn't help myself but to want to mess around with you some more."—
His words kept adding to that discomfort within them, the realizations... That this... This sick fuck, has been doing god knows what around their unconscious body almost every night... God-...
—"It felt nice. To be able to touch you however I wanted. See whatever I wanted... Even drag the tip of my knife around your skin. Sure, it wasn't that fun since I do like when you wince and give me those scared, teary glances and make these noises, but..."—
He kept talking, head slowly tilting to the side. His voice was so calm, so... Even, like he was talking about a color preference.
—"...Knowing I could've end you any moment... Draw blood from you if I press a little harder... Ah, now that's the high I also can't get enough of."—
The man paused, as if finally breaking free from the haze and registering the horrified look (Y/N) had on their face, which caused him to chuckle, feeling a certain twisted pleasure at the disturbed expression his favorite object of obsession was making. He didn't bother to clarify or voice the specifics, leaving them in the dark was just so much more fun!
Instead of speaking, he suddenly reached a gloved hand out to them, brushing his fingers through their hair, the (h/c) locks a bit humid from the sweat, but it didn't deter the killer from messing with them.
—"Look at you, don't even have the strength in you to flinch..."—
He cooed, as if speaking to a pet that just woke up all loopy from anesthesia. The tip of his fingers kept racking through (Y/N)'s hair, touch almost tender.
—"I guess you only have a few minutes left before you're out cold..."—
He spoke again, fingers continuing to mess with the strands before suddenly going still, as if the killer was contemplating something.
Then, with an almost smug "hmph", Ghostface got up from his previously crouched position, and something in the air shifted, the whole atmosphere got suddenly... Charged, as if humming with anticipation.
—"You know bunny, I think it's time... We know each other well enough at this point, right?"—
The killer drawled, which in response earned a puzzled look from (Y/N)'s slightly dazed eyes. It wasn't the first time Ghostface spoke in a cryptic, half-hearted manner, but somehow, this felt different from his usual wits.
—"...What?..."—
He didn't answer, simply humming before beginning to move, walking around their room with confidence, like he knew every corner of it by heart.
—"You'll see."—
He simply replied, opening one of the drawers, taking a few seconds to rummage in it to then pull out...
Tape.
—"Though I would've preferred duct tape, you kept procrastinating to buy a new roll. But this one is fine too, you don't have enough strengths in you left anyways."—
Ghostface mused with a nonchalant shrug, as if voicing a minor inconvenience instead of a binding method.
The man hummed a random tune under his breath as he walked back up to (Y/N), still laying on the floor uselessly, their muscles far too numb to work properly even as their heartbeat grew louder.
He didn't even bother to stand and watch them attempt to get up or crawl away, and simply opted to get to the deed and went down on one knee.
The quiet "shrrrr" of tape getting detached sent a chill through (Y/N)'s bones, but they got little to no time to even think about resisting before they felt their limp arms getting grabbed by their wrists and moved behind their back, sticky tape clinging to their skin oppressively as thin layers were added around one after another.
—"You know, I'm quite excited right now, bunny."—
The killer commented with a note of excitement behind the ghost mask as his hands worked skillfully on the task of restraining them, a task so practiced that it became muscle memory at that point in his life.
—"This is a pretty big step for us. I will kinda miss stalking you from afar though."—
The added and then moved towards their legs, ignoring the weak kicks (Y/N) tried to throw his way, which due to the drugs flowing through their system left their movements more uncoordinated and weak, making them resemble a baby deer trying to stand up from the first time instead of a potential victim of abduction attempting to resist.
One leg got caught mid-kick, and then brought down with another, with Ghostface moving in a smooth motion so position himself in a way he ended up straddling (Y/N)'s legs, keeping them still to tape them together as well.
They didn't even feel the hot tears flowing down their cheeks like rivers in flood until a chocked sniffle escaped their lips, as just then the realization that they were about to get abducted became so real it struck their mind like a sledgehammer, their body squirming weakly as panic rose.
—"P-Please... Don't-"—
They breathed out in a weak voice, trying to push the straddling figure off them, but their movements weren't even strong enough to move the man even an inch.
—"I don't wanna die..."—
Ghostface didn't even react to their quiet pleas, at least not right away. He kept humming the random tunes all until he finished taping their legs together, letting a satisfied exhale as he ran his gloved fingers through the sticky bindings to check.
—"Die?"— he repeated, voice almost amused by the word. —"Oh, come on duckling."—
The said with a quiet chuckle, turning around just enough to glance at (Y/N) over his shoulder, and the way the white mask peeked from behind the hood was on it's own chilling.
—"I've rambled to you enough about my preferences. If I wanted to end you I wouldn't bother taking you anywhere."—
He answered, raising his free hand to wave it dismissively.
—"And if I did, that would make all the blood, guts and grime my problem to clean after. Yuck."—
He added, and after that stood up, tossing the roll of tape onto the desk (Y/N) was so desperate to reach at the beginning. The phone's screen briefly illuminating when a message appeared, but of course, no one would answer to it anytime soon... Or ever.
—"I won't pretend like I know what I'm doing right now either, so this is going to be an adverture for the two of us. Exciting, right?"—
The masked man spoke, his voice as teasing as it was a bit giddy, but how could he not be giddy? He finally gets to take his greatest obsession with himself!
He didn't move right away to pick them up though, just stood there, looming over their tied down form, watching. These loose strands of fabric that flowed behind him giving the figure an almost ghastly look in the darkness of the room.
Everything went quiet for a few minutes, with Ghostface simply breathing behind his mask unevenly, unable to fully hide just how ecstatic and worked up he was getting, and (Y/N) gasps, as if their lungs were beginning to stutter from the sheer weight of the killer's gaze.
—"So fucking perfect..."—
He muttered, tone quieter, softer even... His hand then moved into his suit, slipping inside to fetch his trusty camera, raising it up to his face and angling it right to...
Click
Click, click
Pictures were being napped, a couple of them. Some of (Y/N)'s whole body, others a special closeup to their face, so beautiful, flushed with tears cheeks, paled skin from dread, trembling lips...
Ghostface paused after the last picture of their face, tilting his head to the side slowly.
—"Ah, my bad."—
He said, suddenly stepping back towards the desk and snatching the tape again, the camera temporally placed down on the wooden surface as the killer kneeled down one more time.
—"That pretty little mouth..."— he said, already peeling a line of the tape.
A chocked sound escaped (Y/N), an attempt to scream for help or do literally anything to resist in their current state. But just as their lips parted, they were pressed against the cool surface of the mask.
The sound came chocked and weird, the scream overshadowed by surprise and slight pain from how sudden the clash was. What even was that? A kiss attempt? A new wat to shut them up? They don't get to think about it too much, because soon after the familiar stickiness of the tape came crashing down their mouth, while a part of fingers held their jaw tightly in place.
The man tsked, but didn't sound genuinely upset, more like an owner scolding a misbehaving kitten.
—"You'll get to scream all night long later, bunny. Now it's not the time."—
Ghostface hushed, rubbing his thumb against the taped lips a few times, letting another satisfied hum in the process as his hand lingered on their face for a few seconds longer, before he finally let go and got up to his feet.
By that time, (Y/N) was truly helpless. Not only where they tied, but whatever sleeping medicine the killer had put in their food was also getting worse. The adrenaline that kept them lucid was starting to wear off, headache and nausea worsening too, making the world around them spin.
—"Mmh... Hm..."—
Weak whimpers, muffled by the tape and tears, that's all they could muster.
The roll of tape was discarded again on the desk, and after snatching the trusty camera back, the killer briefly walked up towards the window, asserting, and then letting a satisfied huff when the street outside the apartment building remained empty.
The neighborhood (Y/N) lived wasn't a total disaster, but also not top luxury, just modest streets where little to no action happened. Safe from strays fighting in the back alleys or drunk teenagers taking a shortcut to get to the main road every blue moon. Safe to say, little probabilities of being spotted by a witness.
—"Yup. We're good to go."— he muttered under his breath, turning towards you again.
The next sequence turned to be a blur for (Y/N), their brain felt like it was melting onto itself, barely managing to process what was going on properly. They could feel hands, cool leather of the gloves against their sweaty skin, following by the world tilting as they went up and upside down, a pressure against their lower belly and slow swaying side to side.
It was like their brain was starting to lag, showing poorly processed frames of what was happening, and even then most of it was just a blur of dark colors.
Ghostface kept muttering things, like he always did, like they cared to hear what he had to say... But it was like listening to the surface while being underwater, everything felt too muffled, too distant.
Then came the coolness, the crisp of the outside air, and then a sudden discomfort of being tucked in a tight, dark place, the back of a car trunk? It felt so cold, so cramped that it was suffocating...
They could swear they saw blue lights for a moment... Or was it a hallucination? A trick of light? False hope? Where these poli-
Thump
Dark.
. . .
The interrogation room fell silent, with Jed sitting in silence, his expression serious but not unkind as he watched (Y/N) talk, who was now squeezing his hand like a lifeline, the close call of going missing forever having clearly disturbed them.
—"I... I'm sorry I-"— you sniffled, just now realizing you began to tear again, not outright crying, but it's like your eyes couldn't resist the urge to cry at the reminiscent terror. —"I'm just... So grateful the police came before he..."—
—"Yes (Y/N). It is indeed a miracle that the police actually listened to your downstairs neighbor's complains about the noise."—
Jed commented gently, voice even and warm, trying to soothe the disturbed victim as his free hand let go of the pen he was writing down the key observations to reach towards their face and wipe their tears.
—"I'm so sorry for what you had to go through. As the main journalist and investigator of Ghostface, I wholeheartedly apologize for failing to protect you."—
(Y/N) snapped out of their fright at the apology, and quickly shook their head.
—"N-No! No Jed, don't apologize. You said it yourself, this level of obsession it's not normal for him! I-"— you try to defend him, but he instead cupped your cheek.
—"No, (Y/N). I mean it. I know I'm no police officer, but I still hold the knowledge on that criminal, and I failed to do my job properly that nearly costed you your safety."—
He replied, firmer but without loosing the warmth, dark narrowing in quiet resolve. His thumb worked on whipping their tears, it wasn't professional, but none of the two currently cared about professionalism right now.
(Y/N) went quiet, just sitting still and soaking in the small show of comfort. Usually they weren't this desperate for human touch, but right now? It felt as vital as oxygen, to feel the contact of the one person who made them feel seen and understood in this stalker-killer nightmare.
—"Should I move away again Jed?... I cannot afford to keep moving around like this anymore. It doesn't even help for that long!..."—you look at him, desperate for any advise of what to do to stay safe.
The man hummed, dark eyes moving away from their face and settling on the recorder, the red button still glowing.
—"I can give you a few options."— he said, slowly pulling the hand away from your face to reach and turn off the recorder, keeping the next conversation private. —"If you really want, I have a spare room, let you in for a couple of weeks to save up and look for another place at a safer neighborhood, for example."—
(Y/N) went silent, eyes widening at the unexpected offer. Their grip on Jed's hand faltered for a brief moment, clear signs of hesitation.
On one hand, Jed wasn't like... A friend of theirs, sure, they saw each regularly with each new Ghostface case (Y/N) finds themselves unwillingly participating, and they haven't really known him outside his job as a journalist...
But on the other, they were desperate, and too freaked out to stay alone. Their friends? Understandably refused to let them couch-surf, especially because those who did ended up hospitalized by said killer.
They looked down at their connected hands, Jed's still holding onto theirs, not tightly or obsessively like the criminal that tormented them, just securely enough for them to feel held, while still giving the option to pull away anytime.
Having no options left, and still too shaken up to think and come up with anything new, they raised their gaze up and nodded weakly.
—"Two weeks, it's all I need."—
Jed's expression softened, dark eyes almost glinting, or maybe it's (Y/N)'s tears making them see things that aren't really there.
—"I'll go with you to your place so you can grab all the essentials after work, okay?"— he offered selflessly, squeezing your hand again for comfort and reassurance.
This man was always so gentle when needed, so understanding and comforting... Now (Y/N) felt a bit stupid that hesitation was their first feeling on the matter. Jed Olsen is working along with authorities, of course they're going to be okay!... Right?
Their mini train of thoughts was interrupted when said man chuckled, and then stood up from his side of the table, slowly as if not to spook them.
—"Aish, come here. You really look like you need a hug right now."— he said with a small, lopsided smile, playful but not unkind.
(Y/N) blinked, but found themselves chuckling under their breath and standing up, appreciating the small gesture in this delicate moment.
Warmth enveloped them when Jed wrapped his arms around their form, pulling them close but not too tight, just enough for them to feel safe, if just for a breath. And they did, they really did feel safer, and the warmth this man radiated with, combined with the smell of his cologne was all (Y/N) wanted to focus on right now and leave the lived terrors in the backseat of their mind.
And while they were basking in this given comfort, resting their forehead against the journalist's shoulder... They failed to see the satisfied smirk that stretched on his face.
If there is something Ghostface was good at, is getting away with things, one way or another. His object of obsession may've slipped out of his grasp before, but it's okay... He can always use his other persona to get them.
His arms tightened briefly, before he caught himself to avoid squeezing too tight. He couldn't afford to let his excitement out just yet, not when (Y/N) was so scared from his previous attempt to take them... Tsk, fucking Mrs. Stones, the old hag just had to complain on the noise that night, huh?
He quickly wiped the dark glint of frustration from his eyes before he pulled back, masterfully changing his expression back to his good ol' Jed Olsen persona.
—"Alright. Give me a second to wrap this up and hand the recording to the police, type down the basics of today's case in a draft and we'll head to your apartment to pack some essentials, sounds good?"—
(Y/N) nodded slowly, hands pulling back so they could wipe their eyes from the tears, smiling weakly.
—"Thank you so much Jed... Really, thank you."—
The man simply smiled, hands moving to their shoulders to squeeze them lightly.
—"You're welcome (Y/N)."— he answered with a gentle nod, and then slowly retired his hands and took a step back. —"Wait for me at the lobby, I'll catch you in twenty-something minutes."—
They nodded, glancing back at the desk of the interrogation room, as if wondering (hoping) if this is going to be the last time they see it, before finally moving towards the door.
The door opened and closed with a soft click, leaving Jed standing there alone, his expression still easy, then slowly growing satisfied.
He hummed, leaning casually against the desk and raising one hand towards the pocket he kept his wallet in, and then opened it to glance at the section where the most recent picture of his darling was.
Tied, on the floor.
His smile grew, eyes narrowed and dark irises sparkling with sick pleasure.
—"A close call indeed, (Y/N)."—
A pause. Thumb slowly running along the smooth print where their face was.
