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lucifers-horror-harem · 2 years ago

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LISTENNNNNNNNNNNNNNN THIS WAS THE BEST FIC TO GET FOR MY BIRTHDAY THIS YEAR THANK U BBYYYY

"Cleaved In Twain." Danny Jonson/DBD Ghostface X AFAB! Reader.

SO it was Lottie or the amazing @lucifers-horror-harem birthday yesterday! And I wrote her a lovely little Danny fic, she has a more personalized version but you lovely people get a reader insert version to enjoy! I hope you all love it! Let's get into it!

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 3.2K. Danny Johnson/DBD Ghostface X AFAB! Reader. No Pronouns Specified. Warnings: Obsessive Danny. Stalking. Breaking And Entering. Voyeurism. Chase. Predator/Prey. Degradation. Dirty Talk. Fucked Up Praise. Rope Play. Restrained Punishment. Spanking. Reader. ManHandling. Knife Play. Threats Of Harm. Actual Harm. Blood Play. Spanking. Punishment. Vaginal Fingering. Vaginal Sex. Unprotected Sex. Dub-Con. Threat Of Death. Actual Death. Dead Dove Do Not Eat.

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Love is a funny thing isn’t it?

There are movies and tv shows, books and podcasts, and tons and tons of songs, stories and more about the subject spanning back as long as human history has, and part of that is because trying to capture that feeling and articulate it to others is difficult as hell. The person to person experience of it is so varied, the differences can be vast or minute but all of them are there and valid, and yet, even with all these clearly laid out examples of what the conceptual idea of “love” is, he is damn sure he has never experienced it in any of the ways people have claimed that they have.

Danny doesn’t think he is capable of feeling it, not like he thinks he is missing out on anything, not when he has other things to fulfil him.

It isn’t like he doesn’t feel anything though, you make him feel some pretty big things, just ones that weren’t conventionally or typically appropriate. He got those intense feelings from a job well done, and from a victim well stalked and eventually skinned. He loved the thrill of being able to sneak around and view every sordid detail of a person’s life without them being the slightest bit aware of his existence. The getting to know you stage was always a total joy, finding all the little quirks that make a person unique, nailing down schedule, habits, before really going in, revealing himself and going in for the kill.

He has been watching you for, God, months. The window placement you have going on makes his job very easy.

You aren’t the only one he has been watching however, he normally has multiple irons in the fire while narrowing down who was worthy of his attention and who he really wanted to fuck with. You were interesting in how unassuming you were, the way you behaved at home, so quiet and looking so domestic, he couldn’t help how the thought got him so excited. He would get thoroughly amped up to choose a night, one that you would think is any other evening, and then come in and tear your whole life apart, end it, slash and cut until you are unrecognisable and that sad little life you called yours would be no more. Learning all he could about a life before he ended it made it all the sweeter.

Months of build up and tonight is the night, boots laced, hood up and knife sheathed and he was ready for an evening of fun ahead. He’d planned his way in over a month ago, found the easiest way one afternoon when you were out of the house.

It was late, after midnight, he was inside and ready as he will ever be to strike, he doesn’t think he is a nervous guy, a little too prepared and confident to have that kind of petty thing holding him back. Nerves are what the person on the end of the knife feels, not the one brandishing it.

Now, sometimes, no matter how much planning is put in, how much care is taken and how well he gets to know a victim, at times, they can be unpredictable.

He didn’t count on you getting up to fetch a glass of water from the kitchen and you and he staring at each other from across the hall. Him about to go to your bedroom and you standing just outside your door, hand still on the knob. You were just slightly shocked to see the strange man, over six feet tall and clad in black and leather and a mask and holy shit what were you going to do?

A beat and then you did something he wasn’t counting on tonight, you ran.

He wasn’t planning on a chase, he was planning on tying you to your bed while you were still passed out, and just ripping into you, cutting you from- Well it doesn’t matter because right now you were fucking booking it and he wasn’t going to let a small deviation like this stop him from being able to salvage his night and your murder.

As he started after you he thought it would be easy.

Ten minutes later when he still didn’t have a hold on you he thought otherwise, where the fuck did you learn to run like that? And that mouth of yours! You actually threw a few choice insults his way when you had locked yourself in the bathroom, he managed to get the door open but you still got around him, he wasn’t expecting any of this from meek little you and frankly it was pissing him off.

Well, not just pissing him off, you catching him so off guard, being so different than he was anticipating, than what he thought he knew you to be, it was, annoyingly hot.

He finally got you in the kitchen, cornered you, had you on the tiled floor on your back, his knees to your shoulders, holding you down firmly. Slight uptick in his breathing just as yours had from all the exertion, but now he’s got you.

Eyes locked up on that ghostly white mask and true while you felt fear, there was another feeling brewing inside of you.

The struggle in you stopped in short order when he forced his knees down harder and you groaned, your head tipping back against the floor and he said with a strong point, “You,-” A shake of his head with a breathy laugh he said your name and then, “- are a hard one to get a hold of.”

He sighed, “I wasn’t counting on that.”

A hard swallow and you asked, “How do you know my name?”

“That’s your biggest concern? Not how did the big scary man get into my house?” He asked and you had to give it up, he had a good fucking point. He spoke before you could, “I learned your name a while ago, been getting to know you, watching a while.”

“Watching?” You asked and he hummed, he sounded amused as he pulled out the coiled rope he brought,, “I like to watch, what can I say? I know what I like.”

A creepy, stalker with a voyuer kink, you really lucked out, didn’t you? When it rains it pours.

He reached down, began to secure and tie your hands together, movements practised and confident, “I had the whole thing figured out but then you just had to give me the run around. Do you know how fucking annoying that shit is?”

He tightened the ropes and you winced at the bite of them into your wrists, he didn’t stop, his tone was sharp, venom practically dripping from every syllable, “I didn’t think you had it in you! I thought I had you all fucking figured out but you managed to really surprise me. But, funny thing about me that you’d have no way of knowing-”

He leaned down and said the last part, his mask almost an inch away from your face, “-I don’t like surprises.”

He was angry, legitimately pissed off but still, very into this, he didn't want to let on to it, the last thing you needed was to know that small tidbit, he was hard as hell and as soon as you felt that it might just give it away. He pulled back, finished tying up your hands and he was still talking, “Who the fuck do you think you are that you think you can get away with acting like this? Fucking up MY night?”

“YOUR night?” You asked incredulously and he said, “Yes! My night! I’ve been planning this for you don’t even want to know how long and you are acting like a fucking brat and ruining this, your body, this body-”

He reached out, a leather glove clad hand reached out and gripped your throat, your whole body tensed under him, your breath caught and his other hand latched onto the blade’s handle. He unsheathed the blade and brought it down, “-is merely where I am putting my fucking knife, a vessel for my art and for my entertainment, it is not actually about you but what YOU, give to ME in this exchange.-” The knife was pressed right under your jaw as he squeezed your throat and he gritted out, “Stop being selfish and making your murder all about you.”

He stopped, he was so focused on how angry he was, on verbally berating you that he was only just now focusing on your expression and more importantly how it had shifted. You were flush, pupils dilated, panting and you were squirming, thighs rubbing together and it struck him, he tested it. He squeezed your throat and your eyes rolled back with a moan and he laughed, “Holy shit you are into this!”

A very nervous laugh spilled out, you rushed to defend yourself, “Ha! What? No! God, no-”

He pressed the blade closer and you whine pitifully and he accuses, “You are!” You try to protest more but he talked right over you, “Oh my fucking God, and here I thought I knew you! What else are you hiding from me, hmm? I’m gonna have to figure it out for myself because you are clearly no help.”

He moved off of you and he let go of your throat, he started to manhandle you and paw at your body to manoeuvre you, he knew it hurt, he wasn’t being anything near gentle but you were loving it, leaning closer. He said it in this fascinating combination of delighted and mocking, “Freak, you are a total fucking mess.”

He sighed and when he looked up, seeing something that gave him an idea, “You know, I’m still annoyed from before, I think you deserve some serious consequences.”

A questioning sound leaving you and his hand came down, a hard hit on your ass, a barely held back moan from you and he said, “Shut up, idiot.”

He got up and said firmly, “Stay slut.”

Like you could go anywhere even if you wanted to when he forced you face down ass up with your wrists tied, you were exhausted from the chase earlier too so even if you were unencumbered and in a better pose, any chance at escape was nil.

You heard him get something from off the kitchen counter and then he was back on his knees beside you, he put whatever he got down and then both hands were yanking your thin pyjama bottoms down over the curve of your ass. Another laugh rings out, his fingers hooked in your panties and he tugged, you feel his thumb rub over the crotch he had to practically peel off of you, “You’re fucking drenched-” He sing songed out the last part, reminding you again of the obvious, “-you love this.”

He was right. Your cheek was resting on your forearm, face burning with shame, you did fucking love this. How he chased you, talked to you, taunted you verbally and with his knife, spanking you, somehow he managed to tick all your boxes without even realising it at first. You feel the smooth leather of his glove on your ass after he let go of your panties, and another hard hit, another jolt of pain, “So! What else are you into?”

You keep your mouth shut and he tsk’d, “You could hardly shut up when I was chasing you and now you clam up. Shame. I guess I’ll have to figure it out all on my own…”

A pause, tension inside you builds and he says, “I did notice you seem to enjoy my knife, so I got to thinking, and it’s not always true but in the case I think that maybe bigger-”

You now know what he got from your counter. He stole the meat cleaver from your knife block and was now holding it in your line of vision, “-is better.”

A shiver ran through you before the whisper of, “Wha-what are you gonna do with that?”

He laughs, “You’ll find out soon enough.”

The cleaver is pulled back and true to his word you weren’t left in the dark for long about what he had planned with it. You feel a hand resting on your lower back, and then feel it, the large plane of ice cold steel meeting your bare ass cheek and you yelp in pain and shock. Another hit and then another and the pained sounds change, shift, and yep, you are into it and it is obvious and you are totally fucked. He is using the cleaver as a makeshift paddle to punish you, it was extremely painful, unrelenting, covered a ton of surface area in one hit, he was strong and could put a lot of power behind it too.

“You’re dripping down your thigh.” You feel him wipe some of it up, “Maybe you have more potential than I thought, disgusting thing that you are, I wonder what else you’d be into.”

Another hit and a much bigger shock of pain to your system, the edge caught you when he pulled back, he cut the back of your thigh, right before the meat of your ass started and you hissed, a suck of your teeth as tears welled up, voice wavering, “Did you cut me?”

You asked it without thinking and he laughed, “Oops.”

Another hit and you moaned, fingers curl, you wish you had something to hold onto and he didn’t fucking stop. The guy clearly had experience with knives, you are sure the cuts that he continues to give you are all on purpose, the pretending they were an accident was part of the bit.

Between your legs, the backs of your thighs were a total fucking wreck, slick and sweat and blood, you were crying into your forearm’s sleeve and he hadn’t stopped with the creative insults, and you were loving every fucked up second of it.

“How many hits was that?” He asked and you were still crying into damp fabric and he repeated himself, louder, “I asked you a question, whore.”

You were supposed to be counting this whole time? You sniffed, lifting your head slightly, “I-I wasn’t-I-”

“You didn’t keep count?” A hard hit, you cried out in pain and he admonished you further, “Fuck. You are totally useless.”

He brought the cleaver down, hard, right next to your head, he cracked the tile in the process, the sound and action made you jump. “Awe, scared?”

Not wanting to piss him off further, you say, “Yes.”

His response was only one word but it’s all he needed. “Good.”

Hands were back on you, “Look at all this.” His fingers trailed through the dripping blood he drew from you earlier, and then he managed to do something to surprise you, glove covered fingers dragged up through your folds and you gasped in shock. After so much pain the sudden rush of pleasure hit you like a ton of bricks and stole all the breath from your lungs.

A moan crosses your lips as his fingers dropped back down, he rubbed your clit, the slickness of your blood acting as lube as he touched, you leaned back, closer to him and he said, “You’d never guess how depraved you are just by looking at you.”

His digits slide back up, two fingers delve inside and he starts to finger your own blood into you, a loud moan tears out, your head falls forward as he hooks his fingers and finds that sweet spot inside that makes you gasp. He sounds very amused as he teases, “Too easy.”

And you feel him press his hips forward and you feel how hard he is, “You feel what you’re doing to me by acting like such a little nympho? Taking all this with an arch and a moan, you are so fucked-”

He continued to rock his fingers inside of you, focusing on that same spot and you are taken by all of this, head nearly spinning from how tonight has gone, the lingering pain, the searing pleasure, weak, you felt very weak. Fingers fucking in and out, his thumb stroking tight circles around your clit making your writhe.

His fingers leave you rather unceremoniously and you whine, another hit on your already bruised ass and you sob, he spits out, “Stop bitching.”

You hear his pants opening and then feel him press to you, hard and unbelievably hot. “Got any cute comments or complaints?”

A weak shake of your head and he asked, “You want it?”

You did, you nod with a bite of your bottom lip and he said, sickeningly saccharine, “Course you do.”

Thankfully he didn’t make you beg but he seemed pretty riled up too. His hips slam forward, making you take him all at once and you cry out against the floor, the sudden burn and stretch overtakes but there is no time to linger, his hips move, no time for you to adjust.

“Fuckkk-you act like such a slut but you don’t feel like one.” His hands gripping your hips, he started to really take, fucking into you quicker, harder. It’s disgusting, filthy, you feel like it too, he was your stalker, he broke in here to kill you for Christ’s sake and you are getting fucked dumb by him and you were…

Living for it, loving it, of course you were.

You have given up any pretence of pretending that you aren’t into it, not like you can hide it, he can feel you clenching on him, hear you moaning, feel you moving back onto him. “You are so stupid-”

You agree, unthinking, just concerned with the pleasure coursing through you, steadily building, the mix of it with the pain from every slam of his hips into your ass, aggravating the cuts, making them weep more blood was doing everything for you. “M’ so stupid-”

“You wanna know why?” He asked, another thrust punctuated with a moan and you bite, “Yea-yeah, God, yeah.”

“Because you think I’m still not gonna kill you-”

You gasp, dragged ever closer to the edge and a loud moan is pulled from him, followed by a laugh, “Fuck! You just clenched THAT hard from the threat of death. It’s got me wondering something-”

He reached out, he picked up the cleaver and leans over, his chest to your back, his hand comes around, he holds the cleaver to your throat and he says, “I wonder how hard you’d squeeze me if I cut your fucking throat right now.”

He pressed harder and you couldn't stop it, eyes squeezed shut, you can barely hear it through the haze as your orgasm overtook, positive it might be the last thing you ever do, him taking you cumming as consent, he asks the obvious, your body has already sealed your fate, “You wanna find out?”

Again, Danny doesn’t think love is for him, doesn’t think he can feel it. But swinging that cleaver with a little force, slashing into your throat, causing it to break open before you’ve come down from your orgasm. Blood pouring out over the blade, over his wrist and down onto the tile, your cunt still twitching and then seizing impossibly tight on his dick while he is buried balls deep, making him unable to pull out, is pretty fucking close to what he imagines love feels like for “normal people.”

Cumming in a victim at the moment of death is the ultimate high, he thinks he might just never top it. If you were still alive or conscious or able to hear him he’d thank you.

#rec

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