#Dead by Daylight fanfiction

[dominarava]

Angel

Ghostface × Female!Reader

CW: Dub/Non-Con, Blood, Stalking, Breaking & Entering, usual fucked up GF stuff

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: The quiet guy in your discord server decides to chat you up in the general vc, and as expected, has a lot more to unpack than you ever expected.

Notes: I was lazy and just posted the ugly default AO3 link when I first posted this, so I'm coming back and making it look nicer with new and improved tags lol

This piece doesn't specify who is really behind the mask, so whoever you want is up to you~

I had fun with this and left light references to the movies, Dead By Daylight, and Mortal Kombat to honor some of my favorite appearances of him-- hopefully it doesn't ruin the immersion lol

I don't usually leave notes, but it's been a while and I've adored all the comments and kudos I've gotten in my absence, cause at the end of the day, that's what will always bring me back. I love all your support and time reading this and hopefully I have more soon to come for you all!

Thank you again so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy! 🔪💕✨️

AO3 Link

This had become the nightly habit: get off work, make dinner, chill with the lads in a Discord call until bedtime. Mindlessly playing a game, you weren't surprised by the sound of someone joining the call, however you were surprised by who it was. He was a rando that had joined a while back, was nice enough, but didn't have much to say as he relegated himself to really only short replies or emoji reactions. You could have sworn he posted a thirst trap without his face in the #selfies channel, but you weren't 100% sure. When he would join calls he would always stay muted, opting to reply in the text chat or not at all, merely listening to and enjoying just being around the good times happening. All the same, you felt it rude to not say at least a little hello. 

“Hey! How’re you doin’ tonight?” 

“Hey there~” 

The voice on the other side was low, having a bit of a flirtatious twang in the sigh of his greeting. Your heart skipped a beat, you weren't sure if he had ever spoken to you, much less anyone else in the server. And if you were being honest, he sounded kind of hot. Letting the giddy feeling ride, you tried to keep him talking since it was just the two of you. 

“Woah–” You poked cheekily, “I dunno if I've heard you say anything before.” 

“I'm more of a one-on-one kind of guy,” He offered smoothly, “But I enjoy listening to everyone having a good time.” 

“Fair–” 

The air fell dead as you wondered what to talk about next, letting him cut into the silence with a question, “So.. what's your favorite scary movie?” 

Having just finished a server horror movie night not too long ago, the question felt like a natural segway into your interests, “Hmmnn that's actually a good question– I think if we're just talkin’ horror in general my first and favorite would have to be Silence Of The Lambs. The back and forth relationship between Clarice and Dr. Lecter was probably one of the most challenging to my mind at the ripe age of twelve, since then I've loved horror that has a female protagonist that is put under pressure by the killer to make difficult choices and solve the puzzle he left for her.

“But– that's not to say pieces like Substance or Midsommer aren't incredible mentally challenging works of art to me, I love both, along with movies like The Empty Man, Smile, It Follows, The VVitch, The Void, V/H/S–”

He cut your train with a light chuckle, “I definitely want to know which you thought was better, Smile or It Follows, but I meant to ask, what’s your favorite slasher movie?” 

You gave this one a lot more consideration as your heart swelled with a damning excitement at the thought of your favorite killers, “That's such a hard choice! Of course Micheal Myers from <i>Halloween</i> is like everyone's big daddy– but I think if I had to choose it would have to be Stab! Ghostface is just a lot more fun, playful, and let's be honest– horny.” 

“Oh yeah?” He hummed, “Why's that?” 

How his tone seemed to curl at the end of his words made your chest tighten and a heat rise to your cheeks, “I mean, at the heart of it.. the voice actor responsible for his voice changer in the movie said that his tone is flirtatious, beyond that– between the fact that the first Ghostface seemed to get off on the idea of causing his object of obsession, Sidney, the most pain possible by the mocking of her mother being the town bicycle and it's even pointed to at the end of the movie that the two who were behind the Ghostface killings were the same two that brutalized Sidney's mother–” 

“Goddamn–” Nearly groaning his words as he cut you off, he cleared his throat and pressed, “Good girl~ You sure do know your stuff.” Praising you with words that melted like chocolate over your tongue, your mind tilted at his words, ‘Good girl’. 

Good girl?!

“Excu–”

“I fuckin’ love girls like you–” He went on, swearing you could hear the ache of him through the call, “Your type always knows how really appreciate us..” 

‘Us’?

Before you could get a word in, he went on, “Buuut it looks like that's my cue– I hope you're ready for some fun this evening.” Leaving the conversation with the disconnect sound chiming through your ears in silence to process what just happened. 

The sound of him leaving the call let a wash of relief run over you, only lasting for a moment as the floor creaking caught your attention with arms wrapping you in a winding embrace. Having your arms pinned at your sides, your hands flailed looking for any sort of way out. Only, the way your grip seemed to find his length caged behind his pants before skirting over to the long hunting knife strapped to his leg, making your struggle against him stop with a gasp.

“Yeah.. that's all for you Babe, whatever you need– so.. let's behave.. alright..?” The same voice that was lingering in your headset only moments ago was in high definition against your back. 

Firmly pressing his hand over your mouth, you froze as someone else joined the empty call with you, “Hey you there?” 

Your headphones loud enough for him to hear, an uneasy pause passed between you two as his hold over your lips lessened, “Yeah-” He let you breathe through his nitrile gloved fingers.

“Good, kinda glad he's gone, he's chill and all, but it kinda bugs me that he's just in here just dead-ass silent all the time. Fuckin’ weird.” 

Looking over your shoulder a bit to get any sort of a look at him, you were only met with the deep black drooping eyes framed by a gasping bone white mask. Familiarity of the visage made your heart drop into your stomach, forcing you to chew on the harsh fact that that same familiarity you knew to fear, also brought the flutter of butterflies in with it.  

A rough bump of his hips to your back-end snapped you out of your own mind and made you bark out, “Uh– Same– he is kinda weird, I've– talked to him a little bit and he just– seems like a bit of a creep..”

“Oooh shit whaddaya mean?” 

He peered over your shoulder to look at you, curious to see how you would pull this along as his other hand pushed at the elastic of your pajama bottoms, “He uh– waited for everyone to leave– and then started hella chatting me up–” 

“Are you good? It sounds like you're doing something.” 

Eyeing him, the slight nod of his head coaxed you to keep talking while his fingers made their home in exploring your heat, “Yeah I'm fine– I think I pulled a muscle and I–”

“Oh shit– sorry, one sec– groceries are here, I'll be back in a minute!”

At the sound of her disconnection he lifted you up with a near effortless toss onto the bed, wasting no time crawling on top of you to get at what little clothing was left with his blade. Watching the fabric dance away from your frame, he gripped your wrist as you tried to switch your mic off.

“Go on.. stay in that call.. let ‘em all know what a stagy little whore you are.” He pushed, lifting the hem of his hoodie above the glimmer of the silver button hiding his length behind the black denim. 

No time was wasted getting into you, making himself at home between your legs with a few rough thrusts and shivering grunts that made your mind twist. Squirming under him the grit falling off his boots into your blankets made you buck against him in frustration, earning a low sigh from him as his beat picked up. 

“Mmn if you keep fighting me.. I'll gut you like a fucking pig.” Groaning into your ear, the delicate touch of his knife teased itself between your breasts. 

Defiance sparked in you to bite back, “If we're– oh god– following the rules, you'll just do it anyway–” 

The blade pulled its edge against your skin, splitting you like a ripe peach under its cut, “True.. but the killer's favorite little slut never dies.. she's gotta make it to the sequel, the trilogy, hell! Maybe a whole fuckin’ saga..”

Suddenly ringing in your ear the sound of the bluetooth assistant chimed,

Battery Low.. Please Charge Soon.

You held your lips tight as the length of him pushed to the hilt over and over, letting the air in the call stay dead as your friend and others passed through, thinking you were away from your keyboard. 

“What’s wrong? Suddenly have nothing to say? I thought you liked the idea of being yanked around by a big man with a knife? Little different than on the big screen, ain't it Babe?” 

You could practically hear him purring behind the mask, his pace slowing to deep grind as you felt the rub of his metal pants zipper dig into your skin like a threat.

“Mmmm– remember a couple weeks back– we were all watching that scary movie– when you wouldn't shut the fuck up about how you wanted to ride that slashers cock like a carnival ride– fuck you don't know what that did to me– hearing you get all giddy about bouncing on dick after a kill– goddamn you don't have a fuckin’ clue– how bad I wanted bust through that fuckin’ window and tear you apart–” 

Gripping his palm across your eyes to pin your head to the bed, the unrelenting barrage of what came was less of a kiss and more of a hostile takeover of your senses. You couldn't tell how long you were left to his devices, using you with the excitement of a new sex doll he'd been waiting months for. The fight in you began to fade with the swipe of your tongue to his, earning the zeal of him rutting into you harder. 

“See.. I knew you'd love it..” 

Battery Low.. Please Charge Soon.

Dipping down to your chest to kiss the fresh wound that lay spilling blood around your breasts, taking in the heavy scent of your rubies like a jewel thief making his biggest heist. Slipping his free hand over your chest to the slick of your nipple made you gasp as a perfect distraction before pulling his mask back down. Adorning his usual visage now laid a smeared print of your life in blinding crimson, letting that be the first and only thing you saw as he let you have your vision back in the darkness. Against the blur of your eyes readjusting from the pressure of his weight on them, the dip of his frame dropping against yours with his hands gripping the sides of your head in a vice made you dizzy with a feral beat between your legs. Throughout his treatment you didn't feel that familiar latex rub of a barrier between you, forcing your stomach into a twist as his panting behind the mask got heavier. 

The first grace of the evening came when you finally heard the powering down beeping of your headset giving its last bit of juice before cutting out. Unbound by the fear of being heard, your voice let out a moan that vibrated the silence of the dead air room. Relaxing a little under him, he pushed your rear up, angling himself better to pump deep before running his fingers over the tacky blood joining the fresh on your chest in a macabre mess. Having the dig of his fingertips into the open wound weeping from you was a new kind of violation before he breathed out a shaken manic pleasure from the mask that captivated you. 

“Oh fuck– I'm going to smear your blood over my every  fucking pore!” The bubbling frenzy in his tone gave away his devouring bliss as it promised to swallow you whole. 

Honestly, you weren't long for the session either way as he found just the right spot to rub his tip into the soft warmth of you hugging his length and perfect grind of his mound against your bud aching to come undone. Seeing him watch you in those last moments before you went over the edge was enough to send you there as you trembled and cried out under his grip. Moaning and reaching to touch him in any way you could, you couldn't get enough of him as your body craved the closeness it needed. Expecting swift punishment for the affection, he surprised you by taking your hand in his, slowing his pace. Lacing your fingers as one, the gentle caress of his thumb to your skin had your rose colored glasses as red as they could be. Watching with a affectionately hazed gaze while he pinned you down, your skin when cold as his words dripped from his lips like sweet poison: 

“You think you're getting away that easy? I'm just gonna cum and that be that? No.. I prepared for this all day. You're not goin’ fucking anywhere.”

[semiweirdshipper]

Killers reactions to doing trials in swimsuits (Hooked on You addition).

Notes: Sfw. Non-binary reader insert.

-

Bubba Sawyer

He's absolutely embarrassed. Ashamed. Humiliated. And disgusted. Not only is nintey percent of his body exposed, but his face is showing as well. While he did find the hot-dog themed swimshorts oddly endearing, the joy was short lived.

During every trial, Bubba spent most of his time hiding his face underneath his straw hat while staying in secluded areas. If anyone tried to approach him, he would rev up his chainsaw to scare them away. Just go away. He didn't want to be seen like this.

While other survivors mocked and made fun of him, you were more understanding.

From a distance, you would call out to him to try and gain his trust and comfort him. Everything was going to be alright, you would say, and you would gently explain to him the severity of completing trials. There was no need to be embarrassed. In fact, you thought he looked cute and handsome.

Bubba found himself motivated and comforted by your words, and soon he began to do the trials without mercy. Anyone who mocked him would be shredded to bits.

Expect lots of half naked hugs and kisses at the end. He was so grateful to you, you have absolutely no idea.

Michael Myers

Is this a joke? Seriously? Is this a joke? Did the Entity really think this was funny?

Michael, not only frustrated by the lack of shoes and warm clothing, was utterly infuriated. Stomping around in orange and black swim-trunks with a literal, broken shell to stab people with, it was safe to say that Michael's attitude became even more brutal.

Another aspect that angered him was how almost every survivor began to tease and flirt with him as if he were some piece of candy. Some of them even tried to touch him, but their greedy paws would be quickly lacerated.

This lack of respect made him so angry that he began to commit overkill in every single trial. However... There was one survivor who didn't treat him any differently when he had to wear his swimsuit.

You.

As if nothing had changed, you treated him with respect. You didn't tease him, stare at him, touch him or try to flirt. Instead you did the trial like you were supposed to and minded his severe fits of rage. Michael even suspected that you might have been helping him to kill other survivors...

In an act of appreciation, Michael let you live most trials, and he hardly ever harmed you. After this entire event, he might even cling to you a little bit more.

Pinhead/Elliot Spencer

Was it a swimsuit? Or some kind of bizarre bedroom cosplay?

Pinhead's "swimsuit" was an array of harnesses that covered his chest, thighs and hips. Small chains hung from his nipples, and only a leather, black speedo with matching chains covered his crotch. His thoughts?

It was actually kind of nice.

No opened wounds, no cuts, and no bones or flesh hanging out? Pinhead could do with that. Sure he still had his pins and piercings, but he had adapted to those. And while it did get cold some times, nothing really changed. He was used to pain and rough environments.

But it was kind of annoying to witness the mixed reactions from the survivors. Some acted out in disgust and others in desire or mockery. Pinhead didn't let it get to him much and simply did the trials as he was supposed to.

Though he did notice that your desire towards him had heightened, and you became more eager to hide and run away from him during trials. It was amusing. He had always tried to get you to accept his offers for pleasure, but you were too shy and scared. But now?

Call it immature, but Pinhead was loving hunting you down and giving you no choice but to look at him. The feel of your desire and innocence was so endearing to him, he couldn't help but to playfully torture you.

Perhaps soon you would break under the pressure and accept his offers?

Evan MacMillan

Screw the Entity. Screw the survivors. And screw this stupid, dumb, ridiculous swimsuit!

If anyone thought they had seen Evan angry before, then they'd better think again. Because this time? This time he was absolutely furious. Why?

Try accidentally stepping in a trap with no boots on. Try doing a trial in Ormond. Try getting outrun constantly. And try getting grabbed and gawked at all the time.

It was safe to say that Evan's behavior during trials became increasingly dangerous when he wore his striped swimsuit. Many survivors teased about the size of his bulge and made a habit to try and grab him for fun. The outcome? Certain, painful death.

Evan was tired of this stupid situation.

The only break he got was when he had trials with you. Finally, someone who didn't play the "ball grabbing game" and actually did the trial accordingly. He respected you for that. And the fact that you didn't treat him any differently than normal was also appreciated.

If ever Evan came across you in a trap, he pretended to overlook you and simply walked by. You seemed to notice this as well, and soon you began to actively help him trap your perverted team members.

Hmp. You were pretty awesome, you know? He could hang with you.

Albert Wesker

The Entity really needed to work on it's fashion skills. Honestly. Did it really think this was his style? First off, the shorts were too colorful and far, far too short and tight. Wedgie much? Also, what cheap sunglasses. And why the silky black button-up and neck bandana? And were those... Flip-flops?

Most trials, Albert felt quite embarrassed and rather ridiculous, but he did good not to show it. While few survivors did make fun of him, he simply snapped back and told them not to be so jealous. And the other survivors?

The other survivors acted like he was made out of gold and jewels.

Eventually Albert grew to enjoy the attention. Of course he'd rile up this many survivors. How couldn't he? He was handsome and toned and oh so sexy. It was only natural that everyone either be jealous or attracted to him.

Except... You.

You didn't pay any attention to him. You made no faces, no comments and no reactions. Even when he tried teasing you, you wouldn't really respond with anything other than annoyance. And that bothered him.

Soon you became his top priority in every trial. While it was irritating that you didn't respond to his obvious charm, he did find it fascinating. It meant that your mind worked differently and you didn't let yourself get distracted. You were actually becoming super attractive to him.

He wanted to see how far he could go with you.

Pyramid Head

Let's put it bluntly. His swimsuit... Was seaweed. Yes, seaweed, with a dash of barnacles and slug shells here and there. He looked like a monster that crawled out of the ocean. And did this astonishing array of seaweed stay in place very long? No. No it did not.

The Executioner didn't care about clothing though. He was used to being barefoot and half naked. Natural elements didn't bother him that much. This fishy "swimsuit" was nothing more than an obstacle and a gift.

See, of course the survivors were going crazy because of his exposed body, but that only made it easier to kill them when they tried to get too close. It was so convenient that the Executioner didn't even have to fight much anymore, the survivors just came right to him to be killed.

The Executioner knew that it was perversion and desire that brought the survivors to him, but he wasn't interested in any of them. The only thing he did in response to their attraction was kill them.

But you? You were different.

You did have desire for him, but also respect and modesty. You put the trial and your objectives first, and you stayed composed when coming into contact with him. It was such an astonishing strength. The Executioner couldn't help but to envy you.

Maybe some time in the future he could approach you with his real face and show you gratitude for how well you behaved during this outlandish experience?

-

And that's how they became... Hooked on You!

[fishyvamp]

Masterlist

FtM!reader | F!reader | M!reader | GN!reader | AFAB!reader

Mini Master lists;

The Knight The Ghostface The Trapper The Legion The Executioner The Hillbilly The Wraith The Blight

The Doctor

Fog monster!reader

The Huntress (only WLW)

Eat up (Fae!AU)

The Pig

So cold

The Deathslinger

This isn't a dream (I am Real!AU)

Meg Thomas

Why are you so horny?

Claudette Morel

Headcanons

DBD!AUs

I Am Real!

[venomsrealgf]

Ghostface x Reader HC

This was a request by someone ages ago, but never got around to posting it. Was supposed to write for trickster too but I forgot, so instead just have this Ghostface one. Prompt: How would Ghostie react to ur teammates sandbagging his s/o (short one) -

Danny and your relationship was kind of complicated. Outside of trials he was such a sweetheart to you, in his own twisted way. If stalking you, taking pictures of you when you least expect it, literally threatening you with his knife “playfully”, could be considered being a sweetheart then yes!! Honestly not that you really minded, i mean… considering you were basically surrounded by killers 10x worse than Danny.

No but in all seriousness he would never hurt you in any way, even if he sometimes PLAYFULLY threatens to cut you up into tiny pieces. He actually is just a cutie under that mask. During trials things are a bit more complicated like I said. He can’t really just disobey the entity, but tries his best to not hurt you too badly, or chase you at all. Always acting like he lost you, or purposefully letting you slam the pallets down on him. Sometimes if he manages to kill everyone he lets you take the hatch, for the small price of a kiss on top of his mask.

At the start of your relationship many many months ago no one really suspected a thing. Sure sometimes they questioned how you got out of the trials with Danny without a scratch basically. Or how come you weren’t chased much at all. You had your excuses and made up lies to explain, not wanting to reveal your secret relationship with Danny. The other survivors let it slide for a while before they seriously got fed up, how come they had to suffer only for you to be left alone to peacefully WALK around the trial and work on the generators.

Many times some of the others also literally witnessed Danny just walk past you, or purposefully losing sight of you during a small chase. They started suspecting something was up, they started to despise you. Others thought u were fucking your way to get out of trials easy, some just thought Dannywas actually blind. Either way they didn’t care if you had done something bad to THEM, because in their eyes you just getting to live your life carefree during these trials was enough to piss them off.

The next trial you got to was one with Danny. You ran around the map trying to find your teammates and some generators. After a few minutes you finally found Meg, Feng and Nea. After they noticed her all of their moods did a whole flip, their eyes now full with malice. They were sick and tired of you getting lucky or doing god knows what behind the scenes.

“Hey guys! Have you found any generators?” You asked, a small smile on your face, trying to break the tension.

“No we haven’t.” Nea answered with a scoff.

“What's up? Is everything okay…?” You asked.

“Oh nothing! Just you somehow always leaving these trials with barely ANY harm done to you! What's the secret?? You fucking with the killers?” Feng asked.

“W-what do you mean??” You panicked and also weirded out by their hostility.

“Save it. Ghostface never kills you, or harms you at all. And feels like other killers don’t go hard on you either!” Meg continued.

Just as you were about to answer a sudden chill ran across all of your bodies, oh no… Danny had been stalking all of you, received his power pretty fucking quick. All of you scrambled, running the same direction. Ghostface was on all of your asses, he was going straight for Nea who was right next to you, but to his surprise she noticed this and took hold of you, pushing you in the way of his stab.

Letting out a loud scream as the knife sunk deep into your back, making you fall down onto the ground immediately, the once clean shirt now soaked in blood. Danny froze up as he heard your screams and saw your teammates high fiving each other, running off while laughing. He kneeled next to you, turning you around to look at your face.

“Fuck! Are you okay darling??!” He asked, stroking your cheek lovingly.

“Ugh.. I-Im.. Im fine… ahg-” You answered, coughing up blood.

“Please just…. Just kill me, they won’t help me.. they will leave me to bleed out..” You begged, taking hold of his hand.

He was frowning behind his mask but killed you anyway, not wanting you to slowly bleed out. A quick strike into your heart, immediately killing you, unlike how he usually takes his time. Now fueled with new found rage for your teammates he went on a rampage brutally killing every single one of them. And he continued to target those 3 for all trials that came after that one. When he got out of the present trial he immediately sought you out, giving you all his affection and love, even showing you the pictures he took while brutally murdering Meg, Nea and Feng.

“I love you cutie.” He chuckled, giving you a kiss.

“I love you too…” You giggled.

TAGLIST @catsforlife6864 @leviathanleva

if you wanna be added just DM me, or if u wanna be only tagged on certain character themed fics.

[ifroggottoblog]

Finally almost done drafting the outline to the 2nd arc of Duplicity (Shadow fanfiction).

I’m also drafting up concepts for a long term murder mystery Danganronpa AU fanfiction. Also also, I’m drafting up a long term horror(ish) Dead By Daylight AU fanfiction, though both fanfictions are in its early stages.

I’m also working on another Persona smut one-shot which should come out within the next couple weeks.

All in all, I know I’ve had long periods of silence and I haven’t published much fics, but that’s because I’ve been planning a lot of stuff (and eating a lot flies whiles dilly dallying on lily pads).

[skulla-rxcks]

Final girl ✃

Paring: Frank Morrison (the legion) x afab reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: g0re, extremely dubious consent, major deaths, PIV, kn1fe play, DDNE ?

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28 @bangchans-gf5 @fun-fanfics @iwannabangchan @linosluver

Please dm me or use my inbox if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

Kate Denson and I are sitting down on a log at a campsite, waiting for our friends to come back, it’s been around an hour or two now and we’re starting to get worried.

“Hey are you feeling alright? You seem out of it.” Kate says, putting her arm around me. “Yeah yeah.. just thinking” I sigh, curving my lips into a slight smile.

“When do you think Dwight and the others will get back here? I’m starting to get a bad feeling about this.” I ask, turning my head slightly to look at her while it’s in my hands. “Who knows, hopefully they’re okay. If not we can go looking for them.” She tries to reassure me, which just ends up making me feel even more off, I don’t know why.

“We’re camping in the middle of the fucking woods! They could be anywhere.” A weird feeling of panic spreads through my body, making me feel weirdly anxious suddenly, like I have a bad feeling about this; about where our friends are and what’s happening to them. “Fuck it. I’m gonna go look for them.” I blurt out, Kate’s expression turns into worry. “Don’t. It’s getting dark what if you get lost?”

“I’ll be fine, worst that could happen is a bear or some animal attacking me. Not like there’s a murderer or anything.”

“I’m not gonna stop you because I know I probably can’t, and I’m worrying about our friends too. But just come back straight away if anything seems off alright?” She replies, I nod back in response and stand up, heading on my way to try and find them, hopefully they’re safe. Kate watches as I leave, her hand slowly moving off of my arm.

My heart feels heavy as I slowly begin to walk away from our makeshift ‘campsite’. I’m not even far away yet, why do I feel so weird? frightened even, like I’m nervous for what’s to come. I cant stop now however though, Kate’s counting on me. I turn around and glance behind me one more time before continuing on, I take in a deep breath, trying to calm myself down and make sure I’m ready for what’s to come. The last thing I need right now is to lose control over myself and become another person who freaks the fuck out at the smallest things. I shake the thoughts out of my mind, focusing my attention back onto finding my friends.

A few minutes pass and I look back, the campsite I came from is officially out of my eye sight, meaning I’m in the depths of the forest now. I walk deeper in; following the dirt path, I notice a strange red liquid on the ground, I follow it. Praying and hoping it doesn’t lead to anything bad..

After following the bloody trail, my eyes widen in fear at the site before me, no way this is real.

it has to be a dream right? Scared, I rub my eyes and realise what infront of me is indeed the bodies of my friends, Dwight, Meg, Bill and Yui. Their corpses are stacked ontop of each other in a gruesome pile, making me slightly sick at the sight. Stab wounds are all over their bodies, blood still spewing out of the wounds, they don’t look extremely fresh but definitely not old..

I begin to panic. wondering if Kate’s okay, I should go back to the campsite and tell her then we should get out of here. I really hope it’s not too late. please be okay Kate, please be okay. I start to hurry back, my feet almost running against the path, my footsteps getting heavier and heavier with each step I take.

half of me thinks this is my fault, I was the one that suggested for us to all hang out now it’s a fucking disaster, this wouldn’t have happened if I never had an idea in my head for us to go camping, I thought it would be fun. turns out it wasn’t and now practically every single one of us is fucking dead because of me!

I make my way back to the site, out of breath from running. “Kate? you there?” I call out, not seeing or hearing a sign of her. fuck fuck fuck! this is a disaster! I can’t loose someone else I wouldn’t be able to handle it.

I walk around, panic erupting my bones as I look down, seeing one more corpse lying before me causing me to scream out at the brutality at this one; Kate’s. it’s Kate’s corpse, her heads been brutally cut off the cut looks chunky and painful almost like it’s been done with a knife, revealing the tendons of her neck; some are still connected, making the site of my dead friend sickening to look at as if the situation and the dead body before me isn’t gross and disturbing enough in itself.

but that’s not the issue right now..

All my friends are dead. everyone has died. I’m alone and probably fucking next.

- - - - - - -

“does a pretty girl like you wanna live? hehe..” I suddenly feel hot breathing on my neck making me shiver, I glance down and see a bloody knife being pressed against my neck.

“o-of course I do why are you.. why are you doing this?” I cry out, feeling tears form in my eyes. “because it’s fucking fun? now do you want to live or not~” he smirks, turning me around and pushing me against my now dead friends trailer.

“give me what I want. and I’ll let you live it’s simple.” he giggles, leaning closer to me, I look up, realising the man has a mask on covering his face under his hoodie which is stained with blood.

“what do you want from me..?” I ask whispering quietly, a hint of fear in my voice.

“you. take your clothes off if you want to live. Been a while since I’ve had a good fuck.” he chuckles, cutting his knife through the fabric of my clothes, slicing them off like butter, no wonder Kate’s head was cut off with just a knife, a god damn sharp one that is.

“fuck you..!” I spit at him, watching as my clothes get ripped from my body. I feel my tears roll down my face as I feel helpless against the man.

my hands start to feel numb as a cold breeze brushes past my shoulders, i get a hint of confidence and try to escape, attempting to fight him off of me but my attempts are of course useless.

“haha.. don’t try to fight it~ I always love a good crybaby. so Fucking pathetic.” He taunts, pressing himself against me harder now, I can feel his growing bulge against my thigh. his grip on my wrist loosens a little bit, but he doesn’t loosen it completely.

I begin struggling against him again, but he tightens his grip on my wrist, forcing me to stay still until it hurts. “finally you stopped fighting huh?” he smiles, removing his hand from my wrist now that he can feel my pain. I gasp heavily at the sudden loss of contact. “now you gonna do what I say or what?”

“I-I’ll do it I’ll let you fuck me.. just don’t.. kill me..” I whine, looking at him with pleading eyes, staring at the mask covering his face. He leans in a bit closer to my face, I look up at him in pure fear. “that’s the spirit~” I can hear the smirk on his face from underneath the mask. I feel another tear run down my face as I’m put on the spot, I slide my panties off before unclipping my bra; standing completely nude infront of the masked murderer.

“Good girl. not even fighting it.” he begins unbuckling his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers; his hard dick standing straight as he sets it free. Holding a knife to my neck once again he forces me onto the ground, my nude body now getting dirty as he begins to kicks me, trying to make me bruised up. I watch as he gets harder; somehow getting turned on from seeing me get hurt. Did he get the same sexual thrill out of killing my friends? I wonder.

“Get on your knees and suck it.” He demands, slapping my face with his cock before violently pushing it into my mouth, making me gag. I feel my eyes begin to get wet again, and before I know it I’m crying.

“oh stop fucking crying! so stupid.. stupid slut!” I get another slap to my face, this time with his hand. His other hand clenches his knife and stabs me lightly in the thigh. “suck it harder. take it deeper!” he yells, laughing as he continues cutting and slicing my legs up making me whimper around his dick in pure pain. this is a nightmare.

Not too long after he cums in my mouth, forcing me to swallow his seed.

“bend over.”

I obey, getting on my hands and knees, feeling the fresh blood dripping down my leg. I let out a cry as he pushes into my tight cunt raw.

“aww poor little bunny, can’t do anything about it because I’ll fucking kill you! haha!” he teases, making me feel helpless and like a useless sex slave. “I h-hate you… ah..” I moan out, my face scrunching up as he pushes in and out of my pussy.

I try to convince myself that I don’t like this - that I don’t want this - and that I’m only doing this so I don’t die but something about how he feels inside me is intoxicating. “stupid little bitch being held at knife point sobbing all over my dick!” he laughs, moving a little faster.

“stop… I wan’t it to stop…” I beg, feeling betrayed by my body as my muscles clench around his length, my body wanting him but my mind disagreeing. “shut up and enjoy it!” he spanks me and picks up his knife again, cutting up my ass, thighs and lower back, making me bleed and yelp out in pain.

“I hate you…” I cry out, trying to block everything out, hoping it’ll end soon.

“you agreed so stop bloody whining!” he growls, pounding my cunt faster now, making me sob as my pussy contracts around him, my insides begging for more of his cock.

“I only said yes so you wouldn’t fucking kill me.. mmgh!” as I say that he lands another cut on my ass, this one deeper that the others, the blood pouring out of my skin at a faster rate. I feel him grip my ass, directly over the fresh wound, squeezing my ass cheek to support himself as he fucks my hole. “ah., ah.. fuck.. I hate you.. fucking.. murderer!”

“shut up! focus your pity mouth on moaning for me and my cock!” he groans. I can’t believe this man killed all of my best friends and is now fucking me.

“please.. stop please I can’t… I can’t fucking take it anymore... I can’t take it anymore..” My head starts to spin and I feel dizzy; everything seems to be fading away, the blood loss and my upcoming orgasm now overtaking my body.

“come for me.. come for me fucking bitch!” he yells. soon after I tighten around him and finally cum, somehow after all of that I can still find a release.

“good. be glad you could live, sweet dreams my little bunny~” I hear his voice whisper into my ear before I finally pass out.

[ofinkandpaper]

An Unknown Possibility

Chapter Four

I'm not sure I'll ever be to thank y'all enough for how patient you've been with me in getting these chapters out! I really hope you enjoy this one, I decided to go for a different POV this time~

And as always, reblogs are greatly appreciated and preferred, thank you ❤️

Chapters: First / Previous / Next

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, swearing

Word Count: 3,142

As the fog cleared, his lips curled into a smirk. Danny felt the familiar, comfortable weight of his knife in his hand; the solid wood and once polished - now nicely worn - leather of the handle. A rush of adrenaline and power shot through his veins as he twirled it between his fingers, spun it in the air, and deftly snatched it back. If he were being completely honest, he was still a little surprised that he hadn’t caught it by the blade yet. Maybe that was one of the perks of being here for as long as he had; practice makes perfect and all that bullshit.

With the knife back in his hand, he flipped it around and crouched, letting shadow surround him and veil him from detection. Really, the longer he was in these realms, or whatever people wanted to call them, he found more and more things to love about it. The thrill of being undetected while stalking a hapless victim was already a plus, but being able to strike them down with one blow? Well, sometimes it was a plus, and sometimes he wished there was more of a chase. His smirk widened - no one could give him quite the chase like they could. He really hoped they would be in this Trial; he had to give them some kind of punishment for leaving him like they had. He had told them to stay where they were, and what did they do? Ran away with their little friends and that jackass German.

He snarled at the thought of that man, almost loud enough to break his cover as he prowled around the grounds, keeping an eye out for one stupid survivor or another. What did that asshole have that he didn’t? They were about the same height, and he was sure as shit that he was stronger! Was it that he was a survivor? His accent? His Hair?

Nah, definitely the accent. Had to be. Even he couldn’t deny a sexy accent when he heard one.

Danny shook his head and took a breath. He had to focus and catch these little assholes before they could get away. He’d give himself bonus points if he was able to kill three of them before the-

A generator off to his left blew, and he almost laughed. Sure, people could say that it "happened to the best of us" (the 'us' being the survivors), but regardless of that, they just gave away their position, which in turn made his job - and life - that much easier. With a widening grin, he made for the blown gen. Danny absentmindedly wondered if whoever it was had run away from it the moment it blew in their face, or if they were just dumb enough to continue working on it. Sure it wasn't an entirely stupid idea considering most killers had their Terror Radius loud and proud at all times, but there were still a few - like him and Michael - whom that little piece of info didn't quite apply to.

As he got closer, he nearly laughed out loud when he heard the gen being worked on. Sneaking around, he tried to find the perfect place to peek out at them for maximum stalking. From the sputtering sound of the gen, whoever was here had just started working when they had fucked up. When he finally found a good place to stalk, he bent around the corner to peer at the survivor - make that survivors, plural - working; one was that annoying talk show host lady he never bothered to remember the name of… when did he ever really remember these poor saps names? The other was a small Chinese girl - or was she Japanese? Korean? He couldn't remember, and - again - didn't bother to try to. He settled himself for a good stalk, trying to catch their hushed conversation over the slowly progressing noise of the generator.

"You really believe they would be into someone like him? Please! They're way out of his league! Not to mention he's a killer; why would they like him if he's constantly killing them and their friends?" The smaller of the two rolled her eyes hard enough that her head rolled with them. Talk about dramatics. The other woman huffed and shook her head.

"I can’t argue with you about them being out of his league, but there also aren’t many romantic options around. As for sexual options, well, there really aren’t many of those either.” This made the smaller woman snicker as they continued working, a curse flying from her as she - once again - fucked up what she was trying to do, though this time the gen just shuddered a little instead of fully blowing in her face.

Their topic of conversation was definitely something he kept on the back of his mind as he snuck up behind the closest of the two and slashed his blade down her spine. She screamed as the force of the slash pushed her forward against the generator and further still onto the ground to the side. The gen blew for a third time and her partner fled like the coward they were. He snickered and wiped his blade before passing it over to his left hand while he picked the woman up with his right. She grunted and whined as she struggled to get out of his grip once he started walking towards the nearest hook; he rolled his eyes at the attempts. Unless one of her little friends decided to play hero, there was no way she was getting out of his iron grip. The thought brought back his smirk as he came to a stop to bring her down onto the hook. Her scream was like music to his ears!

There was a moment, though, where he paused mid step away from her now limp form before turning his head to look over his shoulder at her.

“By the way - not that it matters too much - who were you and the other little lady gossiping about?” The smirk on his lips widened beneath his mask as he noted the sudden look of worry that crossed her face before she started to glare at him. Her expression told him that she wanted to say something - what it was, he could only guess - but at the same time, didn’t want to give him the pleasure of a response. Well, whether she remained silent or not, her expressions were response enough to make him laugh, “What? Can’t a guy join in on gossip every once in a while? The other killers aren’t much in the way of conversation.” He rolled his eyes hard enough to roll his head - a mock to the other survivor earlier - and laughed again, beginning to walk away once more.

“Better hope your little friends can actually hold a conversation, or else I’ll be bored. No one likes me when I’m bored.”

Well, as far as he was aware - as he stalked away to try to find another survivor to torment - no one liked him whether he was bored or not. Not that it mattered. Save for his darling, he really didn't give a single fuck as to what the rest of the survivors thought of him. Though it did just barely puzzle him as to why he was so caught up on how they thought of him.

Ghostface paused behind a tree, clearing his mind and listening for any trace of a survivor near him - whether it be from walking around, rummaging through a supply chest or fixing a generator. It didn't take long, however, before the Entity so kindly alerted him that someone had gotten that one survivor down from the hook. He paused a moment before moving, deciding if he wanted to go back and see if he could down catch two for one. With a shrug, he moved off in a different direction, wanting to play with someone else instead of Boring Betty.

It didn't take long before he found a new… his own heart beat hard in his chest from excitement as he peeked around a corner to find someone blessing a totem. It was Them. The Entity really did bless him today, hadn't she? He stalked for a moment before walking over and kneeling right behind them, giddy that they were going to spook right into his arms.

"I didn't say you could play with my toys, did I?"

Just like he thought, they jumped with a yell right back into his chest. He took the opportunity to wrap his arms around their center and hold them close. If he hadn't been wearing his mask, he would've shoved his face right into the crook of their neck.

Their body was stiff against his, and it gave him an odd thrill that he could not only feel their heart pounding from fear, but they could possibly feel his heart pounding from the mere thrill of seeing them.

"Playing with things that aren't yours on top of not listening to what you're told to do? Such a naughty survivor, aren't you?" He chuckled and brought one of his hands up to rest on their cheek, his thumb brushing over their lip as the pressure from his hand pushed their head closer against his. His excitement dwindled when they remained silent and stiff, though in its stead, his curiosity started to peak as their face felt warm through his glove… were they blushing?

He laughed, hugging them a little tighter as he stood, before daring to remove his arms from around them. Somehow, he was startled when - the exact moment he retracted his arms - they bolted away like a frightened deer. This was nothing like how they had behaved around him before…

The confused expression he had under his mask swiftly became that of annoyance. There was no doubt that the other survivors' little warnings about him had wormed their way into their mind and heart. Of course, he knew it was all bullshit, and they were manipulating them to keep them away from him! As he chased after them, annoyance started to turn to anger - his thoughts going back once more to Mr. Tall, Blonde and German. It was obvious he was the one orchestrating the entire thing, even having all the other survivors in on it! Maybe if he cut a deal with the Entity, she could let him keep them with him, away from everyone else… yes, that was the only solution he could think of.

The chase didn't last long, and with his mind so focused on formulating the perfect plan to steal his baby away from the other survivors, he struck them down and hung them on a hook without a second glance or word. He would have more time to talk to them later, and if he performed well during this Trial, surely he would stand a better chance at getting what he wanted from the Entity. Though it did hurt him a bit to hear their cries and whimpers of pain, it was for their own good. He figured this was a good enough punishment for what they had done before - for now. Sure, he wanted nothing more than to take them down, hold them and tend to them… but he needed to be strong. How else would they learn? He shook his head to clear it before returning to the hunt.

With his mood down the shitter, Danny wasn’t in the mood to play his usual little games with the survivors in his trial. That, in turn, caused the trial itself to become much shorter than they usually were which - in turn - caused his mood to dip even further. By the time that there were two survivors left, he hadn’t cracked a single joke or given a hint of mercy. Normally, at least a kill or two would be able to lift his mood, so now he was not only a mister grumpy pants, but also confused as all hell about whatever the fuck was going on in his head. It would probably be simple to just chalk it up to his lovely doll refusing to really acknowledge him beyond sabotaging his shadow cloke and keeping out of his sight and grasp. He paused then, standing for a moment as his mood began to sink further with how his mind ran with his thoughts.

He hadn’t seen that last survivor all trail.

That thought alone had his blood boiling just thinking of who it could be; contemplating what he would do with them once he found them - he was so sure it was the German Bastard. Probably sweet talking his doll and enforcing the idea that he was nothing but a heartless, psychopathic killer, which he was not! If anything, he was a heartless, sociopathic killer - there’s a difference!

It pained him to say that it startled him when the final gen popped and the gates buzzed as they were activated. With a growl, he began to make his way towards one of the doors, hoping to either find the mystery survivor and kill them as brutally as he could or his lovely favorite and try to get them to actually talk to him. It had become increasingly irritating that they were trying so hard to stay away from him now when he and them would come together so easily like magnets, or other things that always went together - like coffee and donuts! Who doesn’t love a good coffee and donut combo? Okay, if he were being completely honest, he was more of a chocolate muffin kind of guy, but that was besides the point. The point was, he wanted to see them really bad and he was ready to throw a tantrum if he didn’t get to.

As he came up to the first door, he didn’t see anyone around immediately. He was thankful that he was cloaked so that his radius didn’t give him away, but he also didn’t want to spend too long peeking through every little corner to try to find someone when it was just as likely that both survivors were already opening the other gate. So, as a little compromise with himself, he did a quick scan of the more obvious places someone would hide before making his way towards the final gate they could be at, having to release his cloaking so that he could move faster and get there sooner. There was a small tickle at the back of his mind, like a metaphorical pinch and pull of his ear… but his brain. He grumbled and swatted the air around his head - he knew he needed to focus, the Entity poking at him wasn’t really helping. Finally, after what felt like hours, he finally made it to the door which was, in fact, just about to be finished opening.

And there they were. Both of them.

His darling was holding the lever down and, much to his relief, the survivor next to them was that little scardy cat that was always tucking himself away in lockers. Not much of a spine on that guy, so he definitely wasn’t someone he needed to worry about - and he wasn’t even that attractive. Had that boring midwestern look to him… Michigan, maybe? He wasn’t sure but he also didn’t have the time to really care.

Danny chuckled and cloaked again, sneaking around as the little nobody scanned through the trees behind the two of them. He almost clicked his tongue at his darling not looking around either - surely they knew better than to keep their eyes forward, even with someone at their back!

Once he was in a good position, and just about to be spotted by the little lookout, he lashed out and gave him a good, deep gash down his side. The punk cried out and immediately ran off, leaving his ‘friend’ defenseless. It was tempting to go after him, but he didn’t want to waste the time - the door buzzed loudly and started to open. He whipped around to see them rushing the door, muttering under their breath for it to open faster. He grunted and lunged forward, grabbing their bicep and pulling them toward him. His frown deepened as they fought against him, trying to pull away from him and get to freedom. He finally let himself click his tongue at them and shook his head, holding them tight enough to let him get his arms around them.

“Don’t be like that, I just wanna talk!” He chuckled, though he was glad he was wearing his mask because he just was not in the mood to even smirk, “Why haven’t you even tried to talk to me all trial? It really hurt my feelings, you know?” He sighed as they didn’t respond, only hitting against his chest and trying to push him away. He shook his head again and dug his knife into their hip, pulling their attention away from escape and to their pain. And, with that settled, he leaned down a little and lifted them onto his shoulder; maybe some time on the hook would serve them well.

“Not really sure your little buddy there is gonna come back for you, ya know? Open door, and,” He paused, grunting as he tossed them up onto the hook again, watching for a moment as the Entity’s claws came down to start trying to get at them, “A killer standing right in front of you? Wouldn’t make for an easy save, that’s for sure.” He crossed his arms and looked away for a moment towards the door, raising a brow when he saw the little guy from earlier just… standing there and watching. He almost growled, his lips silently coming up into a snarl before turning his attention back to his darling once more before heading toward the gate to get that little fucker.

“Meet me in the forest after you die. We need to have a talk.” Danny reached around the arms of the Entity to pat their cheek before turning back towards the door to see if he could snag that little shit stain - also counting himself a little lucky for remembering to give an offering to the Entity that let him kill at least one of the survivors by his hand - healthy or not. He didn’t plan to let this fucker leave so easily.

And as he made his way to the gate, he hoped that they decided to meet with him like he said. It would be quite unfortunate for the next trial’s survivors if they didn’t.

[murderousxcoffee]

Amoricide [Dead by Daylight Dark Soulmate AU - Trickster/Survivor!OC]

Amoricide     The act of killing your soulmate Chapter 4: Double Date Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

CW: mentioned torture, mentioned [implied] noncon, blood, Danny Ghostface

I want her.

That pissed Trickster off a little. Not as much as Cortez did, but a little. 

He sat at the table in the large, empty room, ripped straight from Earth, and stared at the old radio. Sunshine wasn't on right now. Right now, she'd put on some metal band from Sweden he probably should have heard of, the latest in a long mix of rock songs from Brazil to Japan. Later tonight she mentioned she'd play a few hours of dark electronic music, things she didn't know the genre of but felt like they should go together. She was doing her best.

He wanted her.

He didn't even know what she looked like, and he wanted her.

It was almost insulting.

Trickster propped his arm up on the table and slid his sleeve down his forearm. The mark hadn't changed, still the same twisting spiral that bloomed like flowers on either end. He placed two fingers on the mark, and cold sunk into his skin, crawling up his arm.

Cortez feared him? Good. And the bandages over her mark dripped with blood last he saw her. How stupid she must be to not understand how much he hated her, how satisfying it was to end her life like the bug she was.

No, she understood. But she didn't know why, or who he really was.

He smiled. 

A shadow passed behind him, a figure hopped up on his table. Trickster's smile dropped. Without moving his head, he looked towards the Killer who now swung his legs in the air beside him.

"Hello, Ji-Woon," The Ghostface's voice, changed by a modifier, still managed to show the smile in his voice. "Having fun all by yourself, are we? Aren't you bored?"

"Fuck off," Trickster said.

The Ghostface laughed. "Oh, don't be mean to me. Aren't we friends?"

"I'm warning you," Trickster said. "I don't have the patience for your bullshit."

"There's no bullshit here, Mr. Hak. Not tonight. Tonight's special."

Trickster leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. A special night for Ghostface meant some certain Survivor was in for it, either torture or sex, it all sounded the same when you were far enough away. 

It also meant the Killer wouldn't be in anyone's business until he got bored again.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright, I'll ask. Who are you going after tonight?"

The mask tilted to the side.

"Frank."

A small chill went up Trickster's back. He looked at Ghostface.

"They'll kill you for that," he said. "They'll kill you for even thinking about that."

"I need a challenge," Ghostface said. "And my sweet Felix is being very, very bad tonight. He's not left the Campfire once. If I didn't know better, I'd think he's learned." The mask tilted the other way. "What do you think?"

"Excuse me?" 

"Would you like to help me?"

Trickster spat out several choice words in Korean without thinking. Ghostface laughed.

"You assume the worst of me, Mr Hak. I don't need participation, just a little assistance…"

He glared. What Ghostface did was none of his business, but he'd never considered the possibility the other Killer would go after one of their own. Frank Morrison was no friend of his. The Legion were pains in the ass, unfriendly to anyone but each other, and desperate to prove themselves in the eyes of the older Killers. A terrible combination. Sometimes he thought if he could break Frank's nose and get away with it, he would.

But Ghostface was a different beast than the Legion. Even on Earth he'd known that, just from the movie Hollywood made about him. Without thinking, Ji-Woon rubbed the cold, cold mark on his arm. Did Frank deserve whatever fate Ghostface planned for him?

… Wait, when did he start developing morals all of a sudden?

"If you want my help," Trickster said, "It better be worth my time."

Behind the mask, he felt Ghostface grin.

"Don't worry," he said. "This is something you've been waiting for."

---

Someone knocked on the front door. Sunshine didn't move. Her eyes locked onto the TV screen on her desk. She swallowed.

Three figures stood at her door, all of them in masks. She shuddered. The Legion? How did they find her?

Her janky security system had no sound, no movement, just one unblinking eye at each door. But she could hear them.

"Open up! We are Legion and this place is ours!"

"I don't think she'll let us in."

"She doesn't have a choice. We'll break down the door if we have to."

"Hey, bitch! Open the fucking door, or I'll rip your pretty throat open!"

Bang. Bang. Bang.

She didn't move. Her numb fingers shook.

"What the hell kind of door is this… Hey! Open the door or I'll fuck another hole in you with my knife! You want that?! You wanna die like that?!"

"What if she's not in there?"

"She's gotta be in, right?"

"She is a Survivor…"

"And we're down one member."

"That bitch doesn't go into Trials, I don't care what she says. We would've seen her by now."

"I guess."

"What are we gonna do with her if she is in there?"

A pause.

"Guess it depends if she's cute or not."

Men laughing, a woman's nervous giggle.

The sound cut short. Sunshine listened closer.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Was that Frank speaking? He'd only spoken to her a few times before. "That's from - Give me that!"

A rustling of paper, a silence again.

Frank mumbling. 

"Fuck the radio girl," the other man, Joey, said. "This is bad."

"That's really bad!"

"Fucking… fine, we'll deal with this bitch later. Let's go."

The tension left her body. Sunshine leaned in the back of her chair. She looked towards the window, the top of it cracked open. A smile spread over her face. They'd had no idea.

She looked back at the TV. The blood rushed from her face.

Trickster stood at the door.

"Finally," he said. "Annyeong nae salang. I've been waiting for this, Sunshine."

She jumped from her chair, and it rolled back, slamming against the wall.

I need to hide, she thought.

She looked around, looked back at the screen. The door was open.

"Don't be scared." His voice wasn't coming from the window anymore. "It's only me."

Her eyes looked to the floor. Did she have enough time?

She couldn't wait, couldn't waste it. With care and difficulty, she pulled up the floor beneath her desk. The harder part was getting the floorboards back on top of her. Sunshine lay face down in the dark, her hands pressed over her mouth, and waited.

Wood creaked. Footsteps so close by. She closed her eyes, tried to stop the way she shook. 

"Are you hiding from me?" He said. "That's a disappointing thing to do. I've been looking forward to seeing you."

Creaking, squeaking wood. He stood next to the desk. 

"What's this?" He said. "Some song you've been working on? I don't know this program you're using. Music isn't an easy thing to do alone, Sunshine. Wouldn't you like some help?"

Tears burned in her closed eyes. Please, please, please, she begged. Please please, go away.

He must know I'm still here, she thought, her eyes opening. He must…

Wood creaked, right next to her head.

Something like fingernails scraped against the floor.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are."

Sunshine clenched her eyes shut and reached out for the only help she had.

When Trickster peeled open the floorboards, all that waited was a patch of deep, fresh blood.

[slasherwhxre]

Do you write for characters not listed on your masterlist? I was wondering mainly about other DBD killers like The Deathslinger, The Wraith, The Skull Merchant, and The Knight?

absolutely! they're not the most popular hence why I have not written about them yet but I love all killers. I wouldn't mind writing about them if I receive a request or get an idea.

[weskie]

Just Pretend [Love is Madness] (Albert Wesker x gn!Reader)

18+ | soft and fuck nasty wombo combo wesker, he whimpers, biting, what if wesker was in love AND denial, p/rn without plot | Fic Directory

You bury your face in the sheets, fists scrambling for purchase in the soft silk.  The moan that leaves you is anything but dignified, though you’d passed that threshold long ago.  He’s had a long day, and you were all too happy to help him get it out of his system.

A hand twists in your hair while another takes a biting grip at your waist to steady you with each punishing thrust.  

So thick, so full… 

“Al…” You mewl, the nickname a sacred utterance only for special moments, whether carnal or tender.  You hear the way he shudders.  You feel the flex in his grip.  Wesker loves it and you know full well he does.  By the stutter of his hips turning to a wet grind, you know it drives him crazy to be called such a sweet, silly name.  To feel every one of your proclamations of love seep into something so… mundane.

You feel him collapse, chest pressing flat and hot against your back as he braces himself, breaths panting in your ear.  He’s not done– nowhere near it.  This is just how he gets away with the softer things.  He thinks you don’t know how much he fucking loves the full body contact.  That he shivers when the whole of you is pressed to him, when he feels completely joined with you.  

He peppers kisses from behind your ear down to the junction of your neck, each one wet and warm and full of unspoken adoration.  Each shallow grind into your heat makes him try and fail to bite back weak little moans until he becomes so fed up, so frustrated that he can’t keep his perfect composure, that he simply has to sink his teeth into your flesh.  At least he could lie and say it was just the taste of you that made him make such sweet little sounds.

“Oh god!” 

You know that’ll drive him wild too.  For in his mind, he is the god to whom you cry out.  

And how right he is…

His hands snake up your waist to grab at your chest, pulling you against him even firmer.  Your hand flies back to thread in his hair, tugging softly at his ruffled locks.  The force of his bite leaves you and is replaced with his tongue laving hot across his mark.  He gives two sharp rocks of his hips before rising off of you, pulling you into a kneeling position– back tight to his chest the way he likes it.  With an arm around your waist once more, he lets loose.  The bed creaks and moans beneath the force of his motions, and you’re fully convinced it’s going to give out one day.  Its song of protest is drowned by your symphony of passion, of skin on skin and desperate noises coming from you both. 

He bites down on you again to hide his sounds, but it’s to no avail.  Nothing can quite disguise the sound of Wesker whining and whimpering as he gives three sharp thrusts and a stuttering fourth before you feel him spilling within you– and oh how he sings for you.  That edge to his voice quakes with every tight moan he can’t suppress and your name finds its way between each heavy breath.  His arms pull tighter than ever around you as if letting go would make him fade into nothing.

But he doesn’t stop.  He never stops– never stops grinding or managing the occasional shallow rut.  The slide of his cock gets wetter with every bit of come that seeps out around it.  You’re on cloud nine, dangerously close to falling over the edge yourself when the hand at your waist finally drops to finish you off.

“Let–” he gasps softly, “let go, now.” 

The sound of him still stumbling over his breaths coupled with the perfect touch does you in immediately. It makes you arch and writhe against his unyielding grip as each wave of raw pleasure beats down on the shores of your mind and body.  Wesker holds you through it, eyes focused on the rise and fall of your chest, the way you quiver and pulse around his cock clouds his mind with the same intense need that got you to this very moment.

He’s not done.  Not even close.  The feeling of your walls milking him drives him further into a madness he knows, deep down, he’s never going to escape.

And why would he ever want to?

[happywesker]

Ashley Graham’s Selfie

[semiweirdshipper]

Slashers as fathers with a child reader.

Notes: 100% NON-ROMANTIC. Platonic love only. Non-binary reader. The reader is less than ten years old (you decide the age). Freddy is alive and NOT a pedophile.

Summary: The slasher fathers feeling guilty after hurting their child's feelings. PART ONE.

Freddy Krueger

It felt like he had been a completely different person when he did it. Work had been stressing him out, parts of the house needed fixing, and he was a single parent. He wasn't getting enough rest. Eventually every little thing began to get to him.

Freddy hadn't been in his right mind when it happened. You loved making pictures for him, and one day you decided to nail some pictures on the wall by yourself. Not only had you nailed the pictures too low, but you had also accidentally made a large hole in the wall.

The incident had caused Freddy to explode. Not only did he yell at you for ruining the wall, but he ended up tearing one of your pictures in half. "I don't need this shit," He had shouted at you, "You think I feel like dealing with that? You ruined my wall, (y/n), and now I gotta fix it. I just- I can't... Ugh."

Freddy had avoided you for the remainder of the night- not because he was mad at you but because he was afraid he 'would' get mad at you again. It was a bad idea. He should have apologized for the way he acted. Because the next day when he woke up and went into his office, he noticed that every picture you had drawn him had been torn from the nails on the wall, shredded up and shoved in the trash.

Horror, heartache and regret immediately consumed his guilty conscience, and he rushed to find you. You were in your room playing with toys. It nearly destroyed him to see the way you flinched and scurried to hide behind a laundry basket.

"(y/n)," Freddy went to kneel in front of you, "Sweetie, what did you do? Why did you tear up daddy's pictures?"

"Because," You whimpered, keeping your teary face hidden, "You said you didn't need them. You... You tore it in half. I... I'm sorry, daddy. Hic... I-I-I'm sorry th-that I-I made a hole in the wall, an-and I'm sorry th-that you h-h-hate my pictures."

The amount of sadness, regret and complete and utter crushing guilt that fell upon Freddy was suffocating. Hearing your broken apology and seeing the way you were shaking caused him to be so disappointed with himself. He couldn't believe what he had done. Why did he do that? He would never do anything to cause you to feel this way, and he 'loved' your pictures.

And yet look what he caused. Not only did he hurt your feelings by being cruel, but he lost all of his near and dear pictures- even the ones you made when you were a toddler. They were all destroyed.

"I-I'll never color again," You swore in a loud whine.

"Oh no, sweetie, no," Freddy attempted to get closer to you, frowning heavily when you flinched at his touch, "Please don't do that. Listen- hey, look at me. I need you to look at me."

And when you did look at him, Freddy felt like punching himself in the face. You looked so scared, so sad and unbearably hurt. Oh gosh, what had he done? Why?

"Oh (y/n)..." Freddy sighed, shaking his head, "I'm so sorry. Yesterday I... I was just in such a bad mood an-and not because of you but because.... Look, (y/n), daddy didn't mean to act the way he did, and I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that I yelled at you and I'm especially sorry that I did that to your picture. I regret it so much, you have no idea. Please... I'm sorry. I 'love' your pictures (y/n), please don't stop making them."

As Freddy eagerly waited for a brightened response from you, his heart sunk from his chest when you turned your back to him and quietly mumbled, "I wanna play with my toys please."

Excuses and more apologies sat on Freddy's tongue, but he denied saying them for he believed that you simply needed time to forgive him. "Ok sweetie," He got up to leave, "If you need anything, come get daddy, ok?"

"Ok, daddy."

While, over time, you did warm back up to your father, you never did say that you forgave him. And Freddy never got another picture. And he would never, ever stop regretting what he had done.

Michael Myers

Michael was overwhelmed by the frustration work caused. Due to lack of loyal employees, he was forced to work over-time and pull extra shifts. He was sore, tired and angry. It felt like he was the only person at work who ever did anything right.

And that anger built and built until it eventually brought out the worst in him and made him do something that he would regret for the rest of his life.

You loved (sport) and had been outside practicing with some of the neighbors. Michael had been inside attempting to relax when suddenly one of the living room windows shattered. He flinched and rushed to his feet, red clouding his vision when he saw a familiar ball on the floor.

On his way to the door, you ran inside breathless and gasping, "Ah! I'm sorry, daddy, it's my fault. I-I accidentally threw the ball too hard and-"

Michael, with his emotional bridge broken, raised his hand to cut you off. A seething scowl took place upon his face, and he began to lecture you out in sign language. "I don't wanna hear excuses. Why were you playing so close to the house? You should know better. Now look at what I have to fix. All I want is to relax and now I can't because of your stupid (sport). Why do you even play (sport)? You're not even good at it."

Even though his words were literally silent, the crushed look on your face explained that you knew exactly what he had said. Michael ignored your crestfallen face and quiet sobs and demanded that you help him clean up the glass before sending you to your room. Yes, your friends had watched the whole thing.

Michael's seething attitude didn't diminish until the next day after he got some good sleep. He soon realized that he felt bad for how he treated you yesterday and decided that he wanted to apologize. But when he went to your room, he was stricken to see all of your favorite sports gear sitting in a trashcan. (sport) merchandise and even pictures you drew were also in the trashcan.

Overcome with concern, Michael wandered to your bed where you were hiding underneath your blanket. When he tapped on you, you twitched but otherwise kept pretending to be asleep. So he tried again.

You caved and lowered the blanket. Michael didn't like the way you winced at him, your eyes squinted as if you were expecting the worst out of him. He quickly used sign language to ask, "What is going on? Why are you throwing all your (sport) stuff away?"

"I..." Your voice was hesitant and quiet as you gazed away, "I don't like (sport) anymore. I... I-I'm not good at it, an-and you h-hate me playing it, an-and I'm sorry that I broke the window... I'm sorry, daddy. I promise-huh... I-I-I'll never play (sport) again."

What? Michael's eyes nearly popped out, regret, guilt and fear clouding his soul. Oh no. What had he done? You didn't like (sport) anymore? And all because he had overreacted and told you that you weren't any good at it. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. It couldn't be like this. You couldn't stop doing what you loved all because he was stupid and having a bad day.

Sitting down on the edge of your bed, Michael quickly explained with sign language, "But you are good at (sport). Don't quit. I was having a bad day, I didn't mean to say that stuff. You don't have to quit. I'm sorry that I said that. Don't quit playing (sport), you love it."

Your lips wobbled and you turned your head away, your voice a broken whisper, "Ca-an I sleep some more before school. Please?"

Your lack of an answer both irritated Michael and broke his heart. He became angry at himself and regretful about what he had done. He wanted to talk to you more about it, but decided not to. Hopefully you would think about his apology and take all of your (sport) stuff out of the trash.

But, unfortunately for Michael, you never did get back into (sport), and he never got to stop feeling guilty about it.

Bo Sinclair + Uncle Vincent and Lester

Bo could admit that, on the surface, he had a very fragile temper. Ever since he had you he had tried his hardest to hide all the ugly parts of himself, especially his anger. Any time he began to lose his temper, he usually stomped off somewhere by himself to maybe punch something and take a moment to breathe.

So far he had done a fairly decent job.

Up until today that was.

It had been a long week. It was summer. Tourists were pouring in at random needing fast work done to their vehicles. The gas station and church needed extra attention. It was hot outside. And, once again, Bo had a very fragile temper.

It happened when he was elbow deep in truck externals. Ever since you could walk you had always been his little helper. Already at your age your dream was to be an engineer, but you still had a lot to learn. And the fact that you had a lot to learn is what caused Bo to snap.

With the impatience of the person waiting on their vehicle to be fixed, Bo also became impatient. You had been trying to help him, bringing him tools he needed.

Whenever you brought him one too many of the wrong tools, he ended up throwing a wrench and his hat to the ground. "What is your fuckin' problem?" He shouted at you, "Are ya stupid? If ya can't bring me what I need then get the fuck outta here."

You had flinched, tears immediately filling your eyes as you carefully backed up. Bo continued to give you a serious, livid glare that scared you, his words ringing in your head and shattering your heart. He watched you run away, his chest pounding with guilt he ignored as he finished his work.

Bo didn't see you for the remainder of the day, but he did check in with Vincent to make sure that you were alright. As night fell, he became more calm and relaxed, and soon he felt absolutely horrible for how he treated you. He sat on his bench rubbing his forehead in distress for almost an hour wishing he could take it all back.

He had shown you one of his worst sides. And it had hurt you. Now what was he supposed to do? He called you 'stupid'.

Unfortunately for Bo, he didn't get a chance to apologize that night for Vincent soon brought him a note explaining that Lester had taken you home with him for the weekend. Gosh darn it. He really wanted to apologize.

But his apology had to wait for- not one week or two weeks- but a whole month. That's how badly you were trying to avoid him. It was more than enough time for Bo to sit and think about his mistakes.

When Lester finally brought you home, Bo was grateful that you didn't appear to be angry or sad. You rushed to him and gave him a big, welcoming hug that soothed his core, "Daddy!"

"Hey, critter bug," Bo chuckled, ruffling your hair, "Missed you. Guess what? Some ol' couple brought in a beat up station wagon. Needs fixin'. Wanna help?"

"No thank ya," You said casually, leaning away from him, "I don't wanna be a engineer anymore."

Bo's world stopped rotating. "What?" He gave you a stabbed look, "But ya love doin' that stuff?"

"Not anymore," Your voice turned into a lightly disappointed mumble.

Bo's mouth went completely dry. He didn't know what to do or say. All of this time apart he thought that you would have gotten over his temper tantrum, but apparently you 'really' got over it. He had been the boulder that crushed your dreams. And it...

It almost made him wanna cry.

Bo swallowed, trying not to seem too beaten down, "But... Who's gonna be my helper?"

You smiled and pointed to the man standing beside the truck, "Uncle Lester will."

"Right..." Bo nodded, his chest aching with guilt, self-hatred, regret and sadness, "Right."

You never helped him with another car again.

Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal liked to believe that he was the ultimate best at keeping his temper under control. He never got mad at you or expressed any negative emotions towards you. If you needed to be taught a lesson, then he would sit with you and have a firm, constructive conversation about how you needed to improve.

Your bond was strong and healthy and it made Hannibal proud. You even took after him by wanting to be a professional cook. And Hannibal was ecstatic to help you carry that dream into reality.

But one day all of his pride, arrogance and content came to an end.

You had woken up before him that morning and had snuck to the kitchen to make him breakfast. However, things went south and you accidentally ended up breaking one of his rarest, most treasured dishes- a dish that was literally one of it's only kind on the whole planet. And it upset him.

"I-I'm sorry, daddy," You had apologized desperately, "I-I just thought since you liked the plate so much you would also like eating off of it. I didn't mean to break it!"

Hannibal, his heart racing and his nerves burning with anger, had said almost too vastly, "And what lead you to believe that I would enjoy such horrible cooking on my most treasured dish? You knew these pieces were not meant to be eaten off of, yet you disrespected me anyway."

"Horrible cooking?" You murmured.

Because Hannibal was hurt, he couldn't resist the urge to make you hurt as well. "Yes. You are an awful cook. Your presence in this kitchen has always been a waste of time."

The way your eyes widened with hurt and how your hands immediately flew to your chest would be a sight that haunted Hannibal for the rest of his life. Slowly your eyes closed and you began to cry, your hands going to cover your face as you ran away, a sobbed "I'm sorry" echoing through the hall.

Instead of feeling satisfied that he hurt your feelings as intended, Hannibal immediately felt remorseful and guilty. Goodness. He knew that you were young and didn't mean to break his plate. He just... He just treasured the dish so much and now it was ruined forever. He let his emotions get to him, and he hurt you in the process. While it was your fault, he didn't blame you. You were innocent and you just wanted to make him happy.

After he cleaned up his broken dish, Hannibal searched for you and found you snuggled up on the couch. He sat in front of you and spoke calmly, "I'm sorry for getting angry at you. It wasn't my intention. You were just trying to make me breakfast and wound up making a mistake. It happens to all of us."

"I'm sorry..." You whimpered, obviously still upset.

"It is alright," Hannibal reached out and gently squeezed your shoulder. "I'll get started on breakfast."

"Can I help?" You asked hopefully.

Hannibal gave you a hesitant grimace, "I think it would be best if you skipped helping me in the kitchen for today."

Instantly your eyes puffed red and turned watery. Hannibal left you alone to exhale your emotions. He knew that you would be upset for a while, but he too was also upset. He just needed some time is all.

But apparently he was wrong yet again.

After that day, you never helped Hannibal in the kitchen again. For weeks after the incident, you didn't even eat the food that he cooked. It was like you banned yourself from the kitchen entirely. He had tried to coax you into helping him, but you always found excuses not to.

Soon Hannibal learned that he had destroyed your passion for cooking by making you believe that you were a terrible chef. And he regretted it so much that it was nearly unbearable. Hannibal couldn't handle mistakes he couldn't fix.

And no matter how hard he tried, he knew that he could never mend your feelings that he severed.

-

In part two I planned to age up the reader and have them secretly doing their passion behind their dad's back. And the slasher will find out and be like "what, I thought you gave up on that! Holy sh*t, I'm so happy". And the reader will be pleasantly surprised.

[fishyvamp]

Day 1 of Kinktober 2024

Something Soft

Dead by Daylight Pairings: Max Thompson Jr. | The Hillbilly X GN!Reader Rating: M | Mature | NSFW 18+ Word count: 1.7k+ CW: Dubious consent-ish, written accent, Thigh fucking Summary: The Hillbilly finds you looking through his things and offers you a deal. Prompt: Intercrural sex (thigh fucking) | “Just relax for me, I’ll make it feel good.” Ao3

The Hillbilly snarled as he revved up his chainsaw chasing after the survivors the entity had blessed him to play with, hooking them with the tiniest hint of glee. When from the corner of his eye he noticed you. Your form ducked into the doorway that was always only opened just a crack, an entrance to the secret room of the fractured cow shed. ‘Well gosh darn it, that ain’t allowed, now is it?’ He chuckled as he limped to the door.

The chainsaw and hammer heavy in his hands as he watched you callously trounce around the hidden room, climbing onto the old cot. He had been watching you for ages, trial after trial. Intrigued by you and that barely hidden thirst for knowledge. He offered mercy on more than one occasion, letting you escape chase, going after someone else if he saw them, or even dropping you if he happened to walk by hatch “accidentally” if only in the hope that you might notice him.

Was this you noticing him? If only silently. He was thankful for his filthy slippers and that perk Evan had lent him. Insidious or something. Just something to keep your heart quiet while he stood at the door and watched the old cot creak under your weight, you reaching for something, something on the wall, A crude carving made by that of a child. ‘Max Thompson Jr.’, that was his name, the name he was supposed to have. That his father was supposed to give to him. Not Boy or Billy or whatever the survivors called him out of trials. Max Jr . that’s who he is. “Well, ain’t ya sneaky little critter. Climbing all over mah stuff.” He chuckled

Max watched you practically jumping out of your skin as he moved in towering over you. He tsked silently as he shook his head. “I reckon ya need a punishment for bein’ a naughty little rascal, but I’m willin’ to offer ya a choice.” The Hillbilly holstered his hammer setting the chainsaw down. His body blocking your only means of escape. You looked up at him silently a tiny look of worry and something else written on your face. “Well, I can hook ya, easy enough basements not too far.” Hillbilly chuckled darkly walking closer, his arms caging you against the creaky dirty cot as he leaned forward. His twisted face inches from your own, “That’d make Her ‘appy an’ all that, but if yer feelin’ like makin’ me ‘appy. Well I could put those pretty thighs ta good use. I’m sure yer team might ‘ppreciate my distraction.” his voice raspy as he cooed in your ear, breath ghosting the shell of it.

You had always been especially curious about the killers of the realm snapping up what bit of knowledge you could get. The Hillbilly knew this. He hoped that curiosity would be enough to draw you in.

“It ain’t gonna be much, just let me put my--” he paused for a moment as if trying to think of the proper word, “--trouser snake between those soft thighs.” an almost purr escaped his lips. “Ya don’t need ta take anything off, I swear.”

Max shifted standing up straight hands in the air as if to give you space. he watched as you swallowed thickly, throat bobbing, breathing seemingly getting shallow as you took in his words. “We can stop at any time. Just say the word Critter and I’ll stop.” He did his best to reassure you that you had a genuine choice in this. However, that didn't stop the pounding in his ears though as he waited for the answer. He wanted this so badly, he wanted you so badly. Through a piece of him, the logical piece he called it, said you would reject him. That you’d rather get hooked than humor a disfigured man monster. 

Max watched as you silently gave a nod accepting the advance. Max finally letting out the breath he didn’t even know he was holding settles onto the cot next to you. Calmly undoing the front of his pants, licking his lips, his mouth suddenly felt too dry. His cock was only half hard as he picked you up effortlessly, ‘lighter than the cows and pigs I slaughter between trials,’ He thought silently, setting you in his lap, he manipulated you like a doll slotting the heavy cock between your legs. feeling the warmth between them already making quick work of his arousal, a groan escaping him as he leaned forward caging you tightly against his chest. You felt so warm, so soft, If you’d let him, he’d keep you.

Calloused scarred hands dug into the fabric of your pants as he began to thrust between your plush thighs grunting heavily in your ears. “That’s a good Critter. Just relax for me, I’ll make it feel good.” He promised, hands drifting up your thighs rubbing the fabric. He was practically purring as he traced the heat of your sex hidden by the fabric. He wanted to touch it directly. To feel it. To cover his hands with your juices and see how soft the tender flesh would feel under his rough fingers. He wondered if he could make you louder. To make you scream his name, not in fear, but in ecstasy. The thought made his dick twitch between your thighs. He hopelessly wanted to own you. To claim you as his and only his.

Another time he reminded himself. his pace steady as he continued to use your thighs pressing them tighter together to get more friction. He could get lost in this feeling. Hearing your soft quiet moans and shallow breaths as he dirtied you. Made you filthy like him. No, that’s not possible, you could never be filthy like him. “You like that?” Max grunted hoarsely as he continued his pace getting more aggressive with each thrust. the noises you were making just for him were a symphony to his ears it made him almost feel human. Made him feel something that he hadn't felt before. It felt good to feel and to touch you. to hear you make such pretty sounds. To feel your soft thighs as he fucked into you. Three gens popping at the same time. No doubt the fifth and final one was almost complete. He was okay with this, he would take The Entity's punishment. He was getting exactly what he wanted, what he needed.

The killer was starting to feel desperate as his stomach clenched to an almost uncomfortable degree, cock twitch, balls tightening the closer he came to the edge. He was desperate to mark you. To cover you with him. To let others know that you were his. After all, who else would be stupid enough to let a killer like him feel such things? “Critter, I’m gonna--” the words stifled as a wave of ecstasy, the world feeling fuzzy, just like it felt after he killed his Pa. It felt like there was nothing in the realm except for you and him. As he caged you as close as humanly possible pressing you hard to his chest. Whines and grunts escaped him as he bucked up into you feeling his member twitching and shooting strings of cum that stained your pants. Finally coming down his grip loosened one hand reaching up to cup your face as he pressed his own against yours feeling the warm flesh like a balm to his withered chest.

“Thank ya and I’m mighty sorry fer yer pants Critter. I’ll make it up to ya I swear.” Max huffed listening as the exit doors opened. The chime screamed out as the floor cracked beneath them pools of bright red light streaming up. The end game collapse was upon them and the other three fled. The cowards probably didn’t even look for you. ‘Worthless,’ He thought to himself. 

Leaving his precious Critter in the hands of a killer. They should know better. He’d make it up to them too. Already making mental notes of which survivors were there. He pushed the thought aside refocusing on you. He allowed the two of you a moment to breathe before The Hillbilly picked you up carrying you outside the secret room, the smell of decaying flesh and corn lingering in the air. The Fog of The Entity clawing at the walls of the map. Max couldn’t help, but notice how calm you were, so soft in his arms. and you deserve a reward for letting him use you. That’s when he heard the familiar hum, the hatch not even two meters from him. Maybe The Entity wasn’t so mad with this. Maybe She even approved. Though a selfish filthy part of him wanted nothing more than to keep you, no doubt that would anger The Entitiy more. He'd have to ask for you as a reward one of these days. Ask to have you spend his days off in his home. Maybe do one of those things that couples do. sit on the couch watching TV. he'd love to show you all his favorite shows. He wondered if you'd like Beaver.

Whatever the case may be he set you down, knowing he needed to let you go. He needed to play by the rules if he ever wanted to do that someday. In a strange way, it was giving him something to look forward to. “Thanks again Critter.” Max hummed giving a toothy smile trying to seem friendly watching as you crawled into the hatch and disappearing from his sight. He did hope you’d look for him. Survivors and killers did wander around the fog and he had seen on more than one occasion a survivor sneaking into a killer's realms. He’d like to hope you wanted the same things as him to just have something soft to hold in this realm of roughness. Of course, that could just be his TV dreams talking. It didn’t matter much the delusion was enough for him. He watched as the fog curled in finally stripping the map of its features, reclaiming the pieces to use later, and for the first time The Hillbilly left the Trial to his own realm without a single kill, but a smile on his face. He may have lost, but he got something far more precious to him. You.

[venomsrealgf]

Hi was wondering if I could possibly make two requests? 🥹

One being dead by daylight with ghost face and trickster how they would react to the other survivors being mean,sandbagging etc reader in a trial when they are in an established relationship with them

And the second being Overwatch I have a request for genji helping reader through insomnia with nightmares from previous mental health issues…

(if you dont feel comfortable with either of these please feel free to to completely ignore!) 🥰

I hope you are having a good day today and I look forward to all your future works 💜

Hey hey heyyy!!

sorry for the LATEEEEE reply i swear i see all of the requests immediately but dont answer.

id love to do both!!!! But ill be doing the DBD one first cuz i looove that game.

ALSO FUCKKK I LOVE GENJI SM TOOO

[writer-freak]

Michael Myers x Ghostface x Fem reader

Kinktober week 5 - Threesome, double penetration and primal

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: NSFW, female reader, fingering, unprotected sex, anal penetration (reader receiving), p in v, no proper prep, nipple play (reader and Michael receiving), biting, petnames, english isn't my first language, probably forgot something

A/n: So life got in the way so this took longer than expected but better late then never. I'm planning on writing a male and probably also gender neutral version of this which shouldn't take too long but I finished this first and wanted to post. I'm really not used to writing two characters actually engaging with each other so I hope this turned out fine.

The night was cool, the sound of rain overwhelming you while the fog moved around the realm. You ran, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you maneuvered between the trees, your heart pounding in your chest.

Every rustle, every shadow seemed to come alive as you sprinted deeper between the trees. You knew this was a game, a sick, thrilling game that had been crafted just for you by the two predators on your trail. Michael and Danny had already wiped out the other survivors, but they kept you alive. And you knew why.

They loved the chase, the adrenaline, the hunt. And you couldn’t deny that some twisted part of you loved it too. The feeling of being prey, of being stalked by not one, but two deadly killers, had heat pooling in your belly. Your relationship with them was… complicated, to say the least.

You weren’t just some faceless survivor to be eliminated. No, with them, it was different. The three of you had a connection that went beyond the usual hunt, a dark and exciting bond that kept you coming back for more. And tonight was no different. Your breath hitched as you glanced over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of movement in the shadows.

Michael’s figure loomed in the distance, his expressionless mask a stark contrast in the darkness, moving silently through the trees. You could almost feel his gaze on you, like a physical weight pressing against your skin.

And then there was Danny just out of sight, but you knew he was there. He always was, lurking, waiting to strike when you least expected it. A thrill shot through you as you pushed yourself harder, your legs burning as you darted between the trees, your heart hammering in your chest.

You had to keep running, had to stay ahead. But deep down, you knew it was only a matter of time before they caught you. They always did. And part of you couldn’t wait for it.

The sound of footsteps grew louder behind you, the rustle of leaves and the snap of twigs signaling their approach.

You could hear Danny’s familiar voice, taunting, teasing. “You can run, sweetheart, but you know we’ll catch you. It’s only a matter of time.” His words were filled with amusement, like a cat playing with its prey.

A sharp breath escaped you as you stumbled, your body hitting the ground hard. For a moment, everything went still—the forest, the air, even your heartbeat seemed to pause. And then, you felt it. The presence of your hunters closing in.

Before you could scramble to your feet, a shadow fell over you, and a strong hand gripped your arm, pulling you up. Michael. His mask was blank, unreadable, but you could feel the power radiating off of him as he loomed over you, holding you in place with ease.

Danny appeared at your other side, his knife glinting in the low light as he crouched down, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “Caught you,” he purred, his voice thick with satisfaction.

Your heart raced, but it wasn’t fear that made your pulse spike it was something far darker, something more primal. You could feel heat pooling between your legs as they both loomed over you, the rush of being caught setting your nerves alight.

“What do we do with you now, huh?” Danny’s voice was teasing, but the hunger in his voice was obvious as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear.

“You look like you enjoyed the chase, didn’t you?” You couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped your lips as his words sent a shiver down your spine. Michael’s grip tightened on your arm, pulling you even closer to him, his body solid and unmovable against your back.

Danny chuckled, his breath hot against your skin. “I think it’s time for your reward.” By the time they had dragged you to a place better suited for your reward, the tension between the three of you was nearly unbearable.

Michael’s grip on you hadn’t loosened, his hands possessive as they roamed your body, Danny removed his mask his sharp gaze following Michael's every movement, his smirk never fading.

They didn’t speak much, not that Michael ever did, but you could feel the silent understanding between them. Danny was the talker for both of them, his taunts and teases filling the air as they slowly, stripped you down to nothing, their hands roaming over every inch of your skin with a reverence that sent sparks through your body.

“Look at you, all worked up,” Danny muttered, his lips trailing down your neck as he pressed you back against Michael’s chest. “You love this, don’t you? Being the prey. Being hunted.” His voice was thick with amusement, but you could hear the heat beneath it, the barely contained hunger in his words.

You whimpered softly, your body trembling as Michael’s hands slid over your waist, his grip firm, holding you in place as Danny’s mouth moved lower. “You’re gonna look so good between us,” Danny murmured, his teeth grazing your collarbone as his hands wandered lower, his fingers brushing against your thighs in a featherlight caress. “Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Michael’s grip on your hips stayed strong feeling him holding onto you as Danny took his time savoring every inch of your exposed skin. He let his hands roam over you, leaving trails of heat wherever he touched, teasing you with feather-light caresses that left you squirming between the two of them.

Danny’s fingers brushed over your cheek as he leaned in, voice a low, tantalizing whisper. “You know he’s watching you,” he murmured, letting his thumb graze your lower lip. “Watching every little reaction, just like I am.”

His gaze darted to Michael, who stood like a shadow behind you, unmoving but you could feel him watching everything.

Danny’s eyes shone with a playful light as he shifted, moving close enough to press his lips against Michael’s mask, planting a slow, deliberate kiss against the blank face. The motion was almost mocking, yet oddly tender, as if daring Michael to break his silence.

You could almost see the tension crackling between them, and Michael’s hand slid down to grip Danny’s wrist, forceful but not resisting. You watched, breathless, as Danny chuckled, peeling the mask up just enough to reveal Michael’s mouth.

For a moment, Michael was exposed, his lips parting as Danny leaned in again, capturing them in a hard, possessive kiss. You felt heat coil inside you as they moved against each other, Michael’s hand tightening around Danny’s arm with an unmistakable intensity.

After a few moments, Danny pulled back, his lips curling into a wicked grin. “See, he’s hungry too,” he said, his voice low, almost taunting. “And it looks like you’re the prize for both of us.”

Danny’s mouth returned to you, hot and insistent as he worked his way down your neck, leaving a path of bruises and bites in his wake. His teeth grazed your skin, sharp enough to sting but not break, his tongue following each nip with soothing warmth.

Behind you, Michael’s large hands slid possessively over your waist and hips, his rough fingertips gripping with a force that left you trembling.

Michael’s breath fanned against your neck as his hands moved upward, skimming along your ribs and finally cupping your breasts. His touch was firm, possessive, his fingers brushing your nipples in rough circles that made you gasp.

Without a word, he leaned down, brushing his lips against the nape of your neck. Each kiss he left lingered hotly on your skin, his mouth branding you as his.

Danny’s hands slipped lower, fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. His mouth curved into a wicked smile as you whimpered under his teasing touch. “Look at you, already trembling,” he murmured against your collarbone.

“Can’t decide if it’s from fear or excitement, can you?” His voice was mocking yet dripping with desire as he knelt before you, pulling your legs wider to make room for him.

Michael’s hands slid back down to your hips, steadying you against his broad frame as Danny settled between your thighs. Michael’s height left you caught perfectly between them, his powerful body supporting you from behind while Danny’s lips and hands worked their way lower.

You felt Michael’s hardness pressing against the curve of your backside, a silent reminder of what awaited you, as Danny’s fingers teased and tested you.

Danny’s lips trailed down your body, leaving a burning path across your stomach. His fingers splayed across your thighs, thumbs brushing just close enough to your core to make you ache. “So ready for us,” he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction as he spread you open.

His eyes flicked up to yours, watching your every reaction as his tongue darted out to tease you. A soft gasp escaped your lips as his fingers pressed against your slick folds, spreading you further.

“You’re already dripping,” Danny teased, his voice dark and mocking. “So desperate for us to ruin you.” His thumb pressed against your clit in slow, deliberate strokes, testing how much you could take.

He circled the sensitive bud with agonizing patience, his fingers slick with your arousal as he finally slid one inside, the stretch making you moan.

Michael’s hands gripped your hips tightly as Danny worked. The firm press of Michael’s chest against your back left you grounded, his presence overwhelming even in silence.

One of his hands moved upward again, fingers brushing your neck before sliding into your hair and gripping it firmly. The tug forced your head back, exposing your throat to him. He leaned down, lips brushing over your pulse before nipping at the skin.

Danny’s smirk widened as he pushed another finger inside you, the stretch exquisite as he began to curl them in slow, deliberate strokes. His free hand gripped your thigh, keeping you in place as he worked you open. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice low and dark as his fingers thrust into you with increasing intensity. “You’re taking me so well.”

His eyes darted upward, meeting Michael’s over your shoulder. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?” Danny said, his tone laced with smug satisfaction. His pace quickened, fingers plunging deeper as his thumb pressed harder against your clit. The combined sensations left you trembling, your body arching into him as he continued his unrelenting rhythm.

Michael’s grip on your hair tightened, pulling you back against him as he let out a low, approving growl. His free hand slid down to your chest, cupping your breast roughly as his thumb brushed over your hardened nipple.

Danny leaned in closer, his breath hot against your inner thigh. His tongue darted out, flicking against your clit in time with his fingers. You cried out at the sudden burst of sensation, your legs shaking as he pressed deeper. “That’s it,” Danny whispered, his lips brushing against your skin. “Let us hear you.”

Michael’s hand joined Danny’s, his larger fingers brushing against Danny’s as they both worked to stretch you further. The contrast in their touches was maddening, Danny’s quick and teasing, Michael’s deliberate and firm. Together, they pushed you higher, their coordination leaving you helpless between them.

Danny pulled back slightly, his lips wet and glistening as he smirked up at you. “You like that, don’t you?” he taunted, sliding his fingers out just enough to leave you feeling empty before plunging them back in. His pace was relentless, his free hand now gripping your hip to steady you as he curled his fingers just right, hitting a spot that made your breath hitch.

Michael leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear hearing his heavy breathing. His fingers pressed harder against your clit, circling with calculated precision.

Danny’s mouth quickly replaced Michael's fingers, his tongue flicking over your sensitive nub before sucking it between his lips. The combination of their touches left you gasping, your body arching into them as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak.

“Come on,” Danny coaxed, his voice low and commanding as he added another finger. “Let go for us. We’re not even close to done with you.”

You cried out, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Michael’s grip on your hair softened, his hand sliding down to your waist to steady you as Danny slowed his pace, letting you ride out your climax.

When Danny finally pulled his fingers away, he brought them to his mouth, his eyes locking with yours as he licked them clean, savoring every drop.

Michael released his hold on you just enough to guide you down, his hands firm as they moved you to straddle Danny.

Danny exchanged a smirk with Michael, their unspoken understanding clear in the intensity of their gazes.

Michael’s silence spoke volumes as he gripped your hips, his strong hands cold against your heated skin. The warmth of his breath against the back of your neck made your stomach twist with anticipation, a stark contrast to Danny’s bold teasing. The quiet exchange between the two men only intensified the heat pooling in your belly, leaving you trembling with desire.

Danny’s smirk never faltered as he took the lead, his mouth finding yours in a bruising kiss that left you gasping for air. His tongue teased and tangled with yours, possessive and challenging, as his hands roamed over your body.

Behind you, Michael shifted slightly, the hard press of his cock against your ass making your breath hitch. His quiet authority paired perfectly with Danny’s unrestrained hunger, the two of them overwhelming you with their opposing but somehow matching energies.

“You’re ours,” Danny murmured against your lips, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver racing down your spine. “Let’s see how well you can handle us.”

Michael’s hands tightened on your hips as Danny’s slid lower, gripping your thighs as he positioned you over him. His cock pressed hot and firm against your entrance, the sensation enough to make you whimper.

Danny’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he guided you down onto him, the head of his cock slipping inside slowly, teasingly. The stretch was exquisite, his cock thick as he pushed deeper, filling you inch by inch. “That’s it,” Danny groaned, his hands gripping your thighs as he watched your face contort with pleasure. “Take me… every fucking inch.”

Behind you, Michael moved closer, the heat of his body warming your back as he pressed you down onto Danny’s cock. The contrast of their touches, had you trembling between them, completely at their mercy.

“You feel so fucking good,” Danny muttered, his voice thick with lust as he thrust up into you, slow and deliberate. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you steady as he began to move, each thrust driving deeper, testing your limits. “So tight, so perfect. God, I could fuck you all day.”

Michael’s deep grunt behind you sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins. Danny paused for a moment, letting you catch your breath. Just as you began to relax, you felt one of Michael’s thick fingers trailing lower, brushing lightly over the tight ring of muscle there.

The sensation made you tense, your breath hitching at the unexpected touch.

“Relax,” Danny murmured, his hands gripping your hips reassuringly as he leaned up to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Let him take care of you.”

Behind you, Michael’s large hands splayed over your ass, steadying you as his finger pressed more insistently against your unprepared entrance. The intrusion was slow, deliberate, and you couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped your lips as the tip of his finger slipped inside. The sensation was strange, new, and your body tensed instinctively against the unfamiliar pressure.

“It’s your first time, isn’t it?” Danny’s voice was a low, teasing purr against your ear, his fingers brushing lightly over your thighs. “Don’t worry. He’ll make sure you’re enjoying it.”

Michael’s finger pushed deeper, the thick digit stretching you inch by inch. The burn was sharp at first, but it was impossible to ignore the way your body responded, the slight twinge of discomfort giving way to an unfamiliar pleasure.

You squirmed beneath him, torn between nervous anticipation and the growing heat building low in your belly.

“You’re so tight here,” Danny murmured, his gaze dark and hungry as he watched your face. “Fuck, I can already tell how good you’re going to feel for him.”

Michael didn’t speak, but the way his finger moved—slowly curling, testing, coaxing you to relax—said everything. Another finger joined the first, the stretch making you whimper softly as your hands gripped Danny’s chest for support.

Your breaths came in short gasps, a mixture of nerves and arousal as your body adjusted to the unfamiliar sensation.

“You’re doing so well,” Danny praised, his fingers sliding up to tease your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through you. “Just let him open you up… you’ll love it.”

Michael’s fingers worked deeper, the steady, relentless pressure making your body shudder as he prepared you for what was to come. Despite the initial apprehension, you found yourself relaxing into his touch, the heat pooling between your legs overwhelming your hesitation.

The stretch was intense, but the raw, almost primal pleasure that accompanied it had you trembling in his grasp.

When Michael finally withdrew his fingers, you couldn’t suppress the whimper that escaped your lips, your body clenching at the loss. But there was no time to dwell on the emptiness. The blunt head of his cock pressed firmly against your entrance, the sheer size of him making you gasp. The pressure mounted as he pushed forward, inch by inch, the stretch, unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

Danny’s hands gripped your hips tighter, his lips brushing against your temple as he whispered, “Breathe, sweetheart. You’re doing so good for us.”

The thick head of Michael’s cock finally breached you, the sensation sharp and overwhelming as your body struggled to accommodate him. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but the low, guttural groan that rumbled from Michael’s chest sent a thrill through you, the sound of his pleasure drowning out the lingering discomfort.

“Fuck, she’s perfect,” Danny murmured, his hands sliding over your thighs as he guided you down onto his cock, filling you completely once again. “Taking us both so well.”

Michael’s deep, steady thrusts began slowly, the purposeful pace giving you time to adjust to the stretch. The burn eased with each movement, replaced by a growing, heady pleasure that made your body tremble. You could feel every inch of him, the thick length of his cock driving into you with an intensity that left you gasping for air.

The feeling of them both inside you at once was almost too much to bear. Danny’s cock filled you completely, his pace quickening as Michael stretched you even more, the two of them moving together with a rhythm that left you utterly wrecked. Michael’s hands gripped your hips with bruising force, his silent dominance a stark contrast to Danny’s teasing words and frantic movements.

“Look at you,” Danny groaned, his voice thick with arousal as he watched your every reaction. “Taking us both like you were made for this.” His hips bucked up to meet Michael’s thrusts, the combined sensation sending waves of pleasure crashing through you.

Michael leaned down, his breath hot against your ear as he drove into you with unrelenting force. The sheer power of his movements left you trembling, your body stretched and filled completely, every nerve ending alive with pleasure.

“You’re ours now,” Danny murmured, his voice a dark, possessive growl. “And we’re not letting you go.”

Michael’s silence only made his movements more commanding, his cock driving into you with precision, hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. His grip on your hips never faltered, his strong hands keeping you exactly where he wanted you as he pushed you closer to the edge.

Danny leaned up, his lips finding your neck as he nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin, leaving marks in his wake. “You’re gonna come for us, aren’t you?” he whispered against your ear, his voice a low purr. “I can feel it… you’re so fucking close.”

Your moans filled the air as they both fucked you, their cocks stretching and filling you in perfect unison. The pressure inside you built with every thrust, your body trembling as they drove you higher and higher, their movements relentless.

Michael’s hands slid up your body, one of them tangling in your hair as he pulled your head back, exposing your neck to him. His breath was hot against your skin as he pressed his lips to your throat, the faintest growl escaping him as he marked you with a sharp bite.

Danny’s wicked grin widened as he watched Michael’s rare display of possessiveness. “Even he can’t resist you,” Danny teased, his voice full of amusement as he thrust up into you harder, drawing a loud moan from your lips. “You’ve got us both completely fucking hooked.”

Danny’s cock slammed into you with unrelenting force, his fingers digging into your thighs as he chased his own release, while Michael’s powerful thrusts sent shockwaves of pleasure through you with each movement.

Your body was trembling, the pressure building inside you, threatening to spill over as they both pushed you closer to the edge. Michael’s thrusts grew harder, his grip on your hips bruising as he drove into you with monstrous intensity, while Danny’s teasing fingers played with your nipples, heightening every sensation.

And then, without warning, Danny’s hand slid up to Michael’s chest, his fingers brushing lightly over his nipples, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he toyed with the silent killer. Michael didn’t react at first, but the way his hips faltered for a split second told you everything you needed to know.

Danny chuckled low, his fingers twisting Michael’s nipples, drawing a low, barely audible grunt from the man behind you.

“So even Michael’s sensitive here,” Danny teased, his voice laced with amusement as he continued to play with Michael’s chest, his fingers flicking and pinching the sensitive nubs. “I knew it… even the big guy has his weak spots.”

Michael’s thrusts grew more erratic, his breath coming in heavier pants as Danny continued to tease him, his hips slamming into you harder as he tried to maintain control. But Danny’s playful touch was relentless, his fingers working Michael’s nipples in time with his own thrusts, making you both shudder with pleasure.

The sight of Danny teasing Michael sent a fresh wave of heat through you, your body trembling as the tension built to an unbearable level. You were so close—right on the edge—and you could feel Danny grinning beneath you, sensing how close you were to falling apart.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Danny murmured, his voice low and rough as his hand slid back down to your hips, gripping you tightly. “Let go. Let us hear you scream.”

The pressure inside you finally snapped, and you came hard, your body trembling violently between them as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your walls clenched around their cocks, drawing low groans from both of them as they continued to fuck you through your orgasm, their combined thrusts driving you to heights you didn’t think were possible.

Michael’s grip on your hips tightened as he followed you over the edge, a deep, guttural grunt escaping him as he buried himself deep inside you, his release spilling into you in hot, thick pulses. Danny wasn’t far behind, his hips bucking up into you one final time as he came with a low, drawn-out moan, his cock twitching inside you as he filled you completely.

For a moment, the three of you were still, your bodies tangled together in a heated, breathless mess. The only sound was your ragged breathing the intensity of your orgasm leaving you entirely spent.

Danny was the first to break the silence, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as he brushed his hand against the bitemark on your neck. “You look so fucking good like this,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “Completely wrecked and perfect.”

Michael didn’t say anything, but the way his hands remained firmly on your hips, holding you in place even as he softened inside you, spoke volumes.

Danny chuckled softly, his hands sliding over your waist as he shifted beneath you, his cock still buried inside you. “Think she can handle another round?” he asked, his voice full of mischief as he glanced up at Michael.

Michael’s grip tightened slightly, his silent response enough to make Danny laugh. “Guess that’s a yes,” Danny said, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. “Better get ready, sweetheart. We’re not done with you yet.”

18+ Divider by: @cafekitsune

[anomaly-hivemind]

Behind You ☆ Ghostface x reader | Kinktober Day 24

Summary:  You get in your car only to have an unwanted visitor in the backseat. So, instead of getting stabbed, you get in the back with him.

Word Count: 1102

Tags: quickies, car sex, mask men, mask kink, face fucking, blow jobs, oral(male receiving), fingering, fem reader, choking, manhandling

You have been on edge lately, getting strange phone calls and pictures of you with little notes on the back, all of which are vaguely threatening, if not in a flirty undertone. Either way, it has made you very paranoid. You have a stalker, and there is no other word for it. This is why you're listing off every related curse word to yourself when you end up in the situation you are currently in. 

You got into the front seat of your car, after spending far too much time in the store trying to get things you needed, and it had gotten dark. You hopped into the car and cut your music in hopes of stilling your nerves, and as you locked your doors, it was like sealing your faith. You freeze when you feel the gloved hand reach around your neck from the back of the seat. Your heart drops to you and you want to risk looking back at your stalker. You didn't even get to grab the seat belt before getting grabbed. You could hear them breathing heavily from behind you but it was muffled. 

“You're going to do what I want and this will go real easy for you.” A distorted voice spoke through the thickening silence. You didn't want to die so you just got a short nod.

“That's a good girl.” The person muttered before grabbing you by the arm and forcing you to move into the back. 

You stumble and borderline fall into the back seat, feeling completely disoriented. You look up and see your masked stalker looking down at you. A pit formed in your stomach, and a lump in your throat had your mouth opening and closing like a dying fish.

You quickly sit up almost feeling dizzy with nervousness as the thick silence you despite your music playing faintly through the radio.  You feel the gloved Hand yank your pants and underwear off roughly, and you feel the cold fabric of your seat against your bare lower half. 

“Alright, pretty, behave, and we'll both have a good time.”  He rubbed his gloved fingers against your folds, causing you to shiver.   You let out a loud hiss when he pushed his fingers into you, scissoring them apart to stretch you out. 

“Please don't kill me,” you whimpered out; your voice was shaky, and your heart was beating so loud it felt like it was going out of your chest.  

“That's the last thing you need to worry about unless you do something stupid.” He pushed his fingers in and out of your cunt with each word he said, his voice rough as his thrust.   

A part is you couldn’t deny that there was a mix of things turning you on between all the fear. You could literally hear the friction of his gloves disappearing with how wet you were getting for him.  You could feel the bulge on his pants pushing against the fabric. 

“I know what you're thinking, slut,  you've always been so telling. Go ahead and suck it bitch!” You hear the voice change peak as he growls out his sentences to you. 

You don't need to be told twice, and you, with shaky hands, work to free his cock out of his boxers. You put him against your wet tongue against the tip; you cover his cock with your saliva as he fucks you with his fingers,  his knuckle brush against, adding the needed stimulation That was bringing you closer to cumming. You suck on his cock while moaning against him. You hate how good your stalker and potential future killer were finger-banging you.  You clenched around his fingers, and your legs tried to push close.  Your orgasm seems to only irritate the man as he yanks his fingers out of you and shoves his cock down your throat.

“Who said you could cum, you fucking slut” he forced you down against his balls, and you choked and gaged against him as your eyes watered. 

“You'll only be cumming on my cock…And even then, I still might not let you cum!” He hissed as his hand held you down and still so he can fuck your face roughly. 

He was slamming into your face so hard that you almost thought you were going to throw up from all the gagging. You hold his thigh in hopes that he will slow down, but he doesn't. Instead, he starts to move more aggressively and without rhythm as he works to claim your mouth. The hand that was once on the back of your head moves to your throat.  He roughly pulls you off of him and yanks you by the neck upward. He flips you onto your back and holds you into place. 

He holds your place by the neck tightly, causing you to gasp for air and grab at his hand to try and pull it away. Your body thrashes as it gets harder to breathe. He moves on top of you and loosens his grip as he slides into you fully.  You both let out a moan, and you take in as much air as you can. He brings his other hand down to your neck and so both his hands are wrapped around the delicate area.

He starts thrusting into your soaking pussy, the sounds becoming louder than the faint radio. He tightens his grip on your neck, and you tighten your grip on his cock.  You whine out a gargled wheeze as you start to get light-headed.  You both were on the edge of climax from before,  and it was all starting to climb back up. 

You moaned out a bated breath as you felt like your orgasm was overcoming you. You felt like you were going to pass out or die at his tight hands. But the way he was making your pussy feel like heaven on ice was clouding your judgment more than lack of air was. Your eyes rolled back as his grip tightly more; everything went white as you experienced the most intense climax of your life, and then everything went black.

Your Ghostface staker releases his grip on your neck and blows his load in your accepting cunt before pulling out of you. He crawls his way into the front seat and starts your car. You're startled back to consciousness by the sound of the music getting louder. You feel like a puddle, and your legs still shake as you look over at the man driving your car. 

“Time to take you home,” he purred, and you can't help but smile.