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angelltheninth · 7 months

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Pyramid Head Chases You Down and Fills You Up

Pairing: Pyramid Head x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, fear play, cnc roleplay, size kink, clothes tearing, rough sex, growling, creampie, breeding kink, no talking for Pyramid Head

A/N: It's the spooky month so it seems like a good time to write about my favorite DBD man.

How the fuck did you get into this mess? Where were you and why were you being chased by a really tall, really muscular man with a pyramid on his head? It was weird but every time he approached he seemed a little more on the edge of something. You didn't know what bit it made you want to both run and drop down to your knees.

You hid behind a barrel, barely big enough to hide your body as the sound of heavy breathing and heavy footsteps got closer and closer. He got closer. His sword dragged behind him, slicing a trail through the dirt. His strength must be great to be able to hold that sword. Handling you would be all to easy for him. Or pushing the barrel out of the way to get to you. "Motherf- really? How did you find me?!" You jumped away only to be grabbed by the leg and pulled to the ground underneath him with a hard thud. His head tilted from side to side and up and down, scanning your body.

For a man so rough around the edges his hands moved with precision over your body, his sword within arms reach but you knew you couldn't use it against him. With his head covered you could do little to fight him as he lifted your shirt up, taking your bra with it.

"Wai-!" Strong hips made room between your legs for his cock, his pants pulled down to his ankles and apron torn off his muscular chest, his cock glistening with pre-cum. "Is that supposed to go inside me? Are you insane?!" All you got was a grunt in response, followed by the sound of more clothes ripping and your surprised yelp as a thick finger pushed inside of you. "Stop, I'm not... ready for..."

He didn't seem to care about your protests, only for your moans and the warmth of the drooling pussy around his finger. Fuck, how could getting chased, pinned and manhandled by this man, this monster feel so good that it made your toes curl? It was all kinds of wrong, you should be thinking about escape not how his finger feels inside of you.

It was wrong, perverted, it made you question if it had really been so long since you've gone without a cock that you're willing to take his? Your pussy seemed to think so but your mind said no.

"Please, please let me go. I don't even know where I..." Your eyes widened in fear as he pulled his hand away, his fingers covered with the sticky evidence of your arousal and lust. The broad head of his cock pushed against your entrance, he grunted once in frustrating, both of you thinking the same thing: he was way too big. "Wait, seriously, I'm not on birth control! If you do that I might get pregnant!"

As if that was his trigger word to push his big fat cock all the way in with zero warning. Your eyes rolled back as he ripped an orgasm out of you, your slutty body reacting to his cock. "Mmmmn." He snarled as your pussy tightened up around him, your legs pushed to your shoulders, body folded in half, pussy getting dicked down for you to see. You could only imagine the smile he had on his face as he broke you down with his cock.

Was he gonna stop? No, not a chance, he had too much cum to give and you just so happened to be the only thing around that could take it. And no one would be around to hear your screams of terror and pleasure, no one but him.

#pyramid head #dbd x you #pyramid head smut #pyramid head dbd #pyramid head x reader #female reader #dbd x reader #dead by daylight #dead by daylight smut #dbd smut #slasher smut #slasher x reader #x female reader

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ozzgin · 7 months

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Pyramid Head x Reader

Featuring Pyramid Head and a reader with amnesia lost in Silent Hill. This is Pyramid Head as originally intended for Silent Hill 2, so expect a lot of game-based immersion. Warning: NSFW, dubious/non-consent, violence, gore

[Horror Masterlist]

"Oh, for fuck's sake!"

You grunt and slap the wheel, hoping your defiant act of violence will somehow convince the car engine to start again. It remains quiet. You run a hand through your hair and sigh. The palm is mildly sticky with moisture and you realize you've been sweating a fair amount. No wonder, you're stuck in this shithole. You couldn't see a damn thing ahead with all this fog. The only discernible object was a rusty, run-down sign showing "Silent Hill". You've never heard the name before, but reading the letters and allowing the words to escape your lips has brought you an unexpected wave of panic. You quickly began hyperventilating and your arms involuntarily twitched and twisted, pulling the wheel of the car along with them and causing the car to swerve into a street barrier. And now it refuses to turn back on. Fantastic.

You hesitantly grab the door handle. After a deep breath in, you open the door and step out. Given the car crashed sideways, you can no longer tell which way is back and which way is forward. You can only see the first few inches of the barrier in both directions, but everything else vanishes under the thick clouds of mist. You rub your temples, becoming increasingly upset with yourself. What were you even doing, driving all the way to-

Wait. Where were you going in the first place? You recall leaving from...home? But where is that supposed to be? No, don't do this. Not now. You walk back to the car and open the glove compartment, angrily pulling out a thick stack of documents and spreading them out onto the chair. You scan over them, growing more impatient. You don't recognize anything. The names and words and addresses don't hold any meaning. You glance up to the rear-view mirror in an attempt to detect some trail of blood seeping from your scalp, as a concussion might explain your sudden memory loss, but your appearance is fresh. Almost as if you didn't just crash your car in a strange place in utter confusion.

You check your phone. Even if you can't remember, there has to be someone in your contacts that will come to your aid. The screen glitches briefly when you unlock it and the menu is empty. No contacts, no messages, no apps. No matter, emergency will do. You type in the digits and lift the phone to your head, but quickly remove it when loud static assaults your eardrums. Why is nothing working properly? You're tempted to just slam the junk into the pavement, but find enough composure to stuff it back in the pocket for now.

All that's left to do now is to find another human. You begin walking. The road has to lead somewhere, that's for certain. And soon enough the barrier is replaced with a different kind of fencing that you use as guidance. It seems to be a small bridge. Just a few steps further and you discover the first signs of modern, populated world: a bus stop. Behind the waiting bench is a brief map of the area and you trace the plaque with your fingers, mumbling the path to yourself. "Now let's see...This is Nathan Avenue...Rosewater Park ahead...Ah, the Silent Hill Fire Station should be very close."

You can't wait to be done with this mess. They'll call for a tow truck and get you out of here. You almost sprint to the next block, expectantly. In fact, you can already spot someone right outside the building.

"Thank God! Listen, my car broke down before the bridge. My stupid phone is also...huh."

Just as you mention it, the same static as previously erupts from the speaker. You're startled and fumble for your phone. You're about to apologize to the person in front of you, but upon lifting your gaze you instantly stop in your tracks.

'Person' is a strong word for it. It resembles one, or maybe it was one long ago. What's crawling towards you, however, is not how you'd define it. The arms are melted into the torso, mimicking a straight jacket of skin. The bony, crooked legs are dragging themselves in an unnatural, unnerving way. The creature has no face, save for a gaping hole, a bizarre cavity deforming what should be a head. Your mouth grimaces with disgust, followed by fear. Terror. You have the choice of returning to your damaged car, or attempting to find actual help deeper into the town. You run ahead, praying that someone's out there. The dissonant sound of a siren can be heard, diffused into the persistent fog.

By the time you reach the next building, you're gasping for air. You didn't expect to run this far. You went all the way around Toluca lake, avoiding the side streets. The center was swarming with those abominations. Each turn and each corner would eventually reveal its revolting murmur, that pathetic shuffle of disfigured limbs. Thankfully they're not fast, nor smart. A little distance and they lose their interest to pursue you. You fall against the brick wall of this small house and read the poster. "Silent Hill Historical Society". Doesn't look too promising, but it's surprisingly devoid of any monstrous being. At this point you'd be more grateful for emptiness. It's safer.

You tiptoe your way in, wary of potential attackers. There's a faint buzz echoing from afar, but other than that no immediate danger. You examine the lobby and notice the paintings and old photos hanging from the decaying wallpaper. It smells slightly rotten. One of the art pieces catches your attention and you stop in front of it. "Misty Day, Remains of Judgement".

The abstract character depicted on canvas reminds you of an executioner. The more you stare, the clearer you can feel some kind of guilt knotting inside your stomach. Your shoulders are heavy and you're overwhelmed by the same anxiety of a child about to be punished. Awaiting the belt. The calloused hand of an unforgiving father. Your throat is dry.

Your musings are interrupted by the static that - as you've since learned - warns you of approaching creatures. The rooms are cramped and the walls are narrow and you dislike the idea of calculating your escape within this claustrophobic maze, but it's preferable to being dead. You jog along slithering paths, unsure of where they lead. The threatening turbulence of your phone goes up and down, like a sine wave, with each turn into uncharted territory. In your frantic efforts to flee you don't see the large hole blocking your way, or at least not fast enough. By the time you figure out the outlines of this pitch black well, you're flooded with the light sensation of gravitational force, stretching and compressing your innards as you fall. Is this how you end?

It's not so easy.

As soon as you open your eyes, a burning pain metastasizes through the head, digging deep into your brain. You grab onto your scalp and press your fingers over the skin, hoping for a small relief. In your debilitating migraine you don't hear the agitated flutter of limbs. They're minuscule, but so many. Thousands of sclerotized joints frothing around your limp form. You lift yourself off the rusted ground and yelp voiceless at the sight. Cockroaches. The pile of vermin lets out a deafening, high pitched screech with every movement. You drag your elbows in an attempt to get away, but the creepers almost ignore your existence. They seem to be running away from something, retreating in masses.

You don't have to wait long in order to witness their source of fear. Heavy footsteps, muffled by the grating friction of metal against metal. A corroded stench invades your lungs and you cough. Whatever is coming has instilled the utmost dread in your very bones. You want to get up and run, until your legs give up and your body collapses of exhaustion, but your limbs are petrified in panic. Your chest constricts and throbs, as if your heart is trashing to escape this prison condemned to unknown doom.

Finally, the fiend comes into view. A tall, large man wearing a leather apron layered with grime and encrusted blood. His skin is scarred and discolored, and a bulky, dense pyramid structure rests on his broad shoulders, concealing his face. He seems to be dragging along a great knife of sorts, although on closer inspection it looks like a halved pair of oversized scissors. The edge is dulled and has splattered visceral leftovers mattifying its surface. You remember the painting you've seen upstairs. Is this what it is? Your Retribution?

You lower yourself until your forehead touches the rusty floor. Like an animal awaiting to receive the final blow from its hunter, like a prisoner resigning to his fate under the guillotine. If only matters could be dealt with so simply! Your neck is clawed into a tight hold by the large gloved hand and you're crudely pulled back up so that you can properly face your Punisher. There's a vague grunt coming from underneath his bizarre helmet.

He carries you to the nearest wall and slams you against it. The great knife drops to the floor with a loud crash, and the other hand, now freed, begins to search your lower clothing. You can feel the seams of the garments tear and snap with no resistance. You want to vocalize a protest, but your throat is crushed under the forceful pressure of his clasp. At best, you can exhale in what sounds like a whispered wail. His apron is nonchalantly flipped to the side and your thigh lifted over his forearm, so that his hand can adjust itself securely under your bottom for support.

Abruptly, a prickling ache crosses your entire body as if you've just been split in two. Tears automatically begin forming in the corner of your eyes and spill down your cheeks and over the pyramid that's now pressing tightly against your quivering form. It's too big and you want to push away, but with each renewed plunge you grow weaker. The small tears and rips that blossom around your abused intimacy turn into bleeding wounds. You want to sleep.

A creature of pure instinct, serving as a reminder of human perversions and immoral desires. Travesty, corruption, sin. And what about it? Before you know it, a small moan escapes your dried lips. You throw your arms around your captor's shoulders. The sharp edges of the helmet scratch your skin, waking you back into consciousness. Your lower muscles start to relax around the massive member and allow for a smoother glide in and out. The numbness is gradually replaced by pleasant sensations. The throbbing reverberates inside your abdomen and your other leg wraps around the creature's hips, asking for more contact. Once your compliance is confirmed, the hand pinning you by the neck wanders to other parts of your body in starved desperation. Your voice returns and more lewd whines roll out one after another. If only you had a mirror so you could look at yourself in this moment. What shameless expressions are you wearing on your face? You're clinging to your violator in feverish depravity. And in return, the creature responds to your cravings with increased intensity. He seems to resonate with your wishes and stiffens his hold on you with newfound obsession. His thrusts become almost feral, with a certain possessiveness to it.

As you're about to reach your peaks, your mind once again travels to the painting. You wonder if you'd be hung and framed just like the prisoners behind their executioner. Pleasure mixed with guilt.

What sin is eroding your entrails?

#silent hill #silent hill 2 #sh2 #pyramid head #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head smut #horror #silent hill x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #dead by daylight #dbd x reader #dbd x you #dbd pyramid head #pyramid head dbd #slasher smut #yandere pyramid head #monster x reader

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diejager · 1 year

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His hands, big, warm and strong, gripped your hip. His veiny forearms shone from sweat and blood, leading you up and down his shaft. His head rolled back, large mask tilted back as to not his you with the rounded edge of the pyramid’s tip. He growled and grunted, adoring the tightness of your heat, wrapped around him and fitting him like a glove. His shirt was opened, hanging from his shoulders, and his pants fallen to his feet, his whole body - a glory of burning muscle and scarred beauty - naked and on display as he trusted upwards.

Your cunt was sleek, leaking down your ass and soaking his cock and balls in your juice. Every pump had his balls slap your ass, the sound downright wet and dirty, echoing in the shed you were hiding in. It smelled of sex and sweat, your voice whiny and pleading, but your warm heat took him so well. His large cock sending shocks of pleasure up your spine each time he thrusted, he couldn’t believe your smaller - much smaller - body submitted to him, let him take you as he wanted, like a beast, like a monster. All he had in mind was to fuck, breed and care.

Your nails raked his pectorals, drawing lines of red down his chest, scars you would keep giving him, a proof of your coupling. He loved them, he wanted more of them, he would cherish anything you gave him. You left him bloody and he left you bruised but satisfied, sated and filled until the next time you’d see him - tonight, he hoped.

He bounced you up and down, rolling your hip back and forth, his bulbous head hitting your sweet spot, pounding against your cervix and shoving his way into you. He was rough - you told him to let loose, promising that you wouldn’t break - and you cried for more. You gripped him tightly, feeling the veins that ran across his cock and the upward curve of it.

You were amazing. You were perfect. He loved you and kissed the ground you walked on. If he could talk, he’d tell you how good you felt, how perfect your voice sounded, how he loved the pain you gave him, and how he wanted to knock you up if he could. Just the thought had Pyramid Head hard, dick twitching with the promise of a second load from him.

He couldn’t get enough of you.

#pyramid head #dbd x you #pyramid head smut #pyramid head dbd #pyramid head x reader #female reader #dbd x reader #dead by daylight #dead by daylight smut #Pyramid head x reader smut #x reader #dbd smut #slasher smut #slasher x reader

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certifiedghostfacelover · 10 months

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Apologizing For a Pallet Stun

{Includes: Ghostface, Amanda, Frank}

Warnings(?): Mentions of stalking(?)

=============================================================

Ghostface - Danny Johnson

Danny was honestly not too surprised you apologized for stunning him. He’s been watching you in every trial you have together, and even goes out of his way to stalk you outside of trials. He’d only be surprised if you never did this with anyone else.

He eats up your apology. It totally makes his ego bigger than it already is.

He honestly might use your sympathy against you, just depends how mean he’s feeling that day.

“You’re really sorry, doll? Show my just how sorry you are.”

There are so many different things he’d try to make you do to show how sorry you are, like sabotaging your teammates, letting him down you, or visiting him after trial.

If he’s not feeling too mean, then he’ll talk to you like you’re an innocent lil’ thing that doesn’t know what they’re doing. And even then, it’s kinda mean

But he does sort of appreciate the apology... In his own way.

The Pig - Amanda Young

To be honest, most people would feel bad with the little squeak she lets out when a pallet is thrown down.

She’s pretty confused that you apologized for throwing down the pallet, but she appreciates it.

Most survivors don’t have that sort of sympathy you do, so it’s nice to receive the kindness once in a while...

She just lets you ramble on an apology, trying to tell you it’s fine (even if she doesn’t like to talk in the pig head)

Honestly, she’ll leave you alone after that.

She’s a killer, but it honestly feels kinda mean to just hook you after that.

She’ll most likely even go easy on you in trials after that... But she still has a job at the end of the day.

The Legion - Frank Morrison

You think Amanda is confused? Frank is like 10x more confused than she is.

As soon as the pallet hit him and a bundle of apologies escaped your mouth, he just.... Stood there.

Like, why are you apologizing?? Why are you apologizing to a killer???

It’s not only that, but he’s just not used to getting such a sympathetic response from anyone besides his friends. It’s just... weird.

He doesn’t get you at all. He doesn’t get this whole interaction at all.

He’s so confused he can’t even reply to you. His mind is just blank.

He’s just gonna walk away mid apology honestly. You might not even see this man for the rest of the trial.

He will literally avoid pallets in future trials when chasing you. But if he does get an apology again he’ll still be hella confused

#dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #dbd x you #deadbydaylight x reader #frank morrison x reader #danny johnson x reader #amanda young x reader #ghostface x reader #legion x reader #the pig x reader

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p3achysuki · 11 months

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can I request a headcanon on Trapper and Oni wanting to continue their bloodline and that’s where they find you 👀

warning: dubcon, breeding fetish, mentions of pregnancy, sub!reader.

The Trapper (Evan McMillian)

You clawed at the old mattress in the basement as Evan continued to pound away at your pussy, fuck no matter how many times you told him to stop he wouldn’t listen. Your cunt felt sore and overstimulated by Evan’s cock, how many times has he spilled his cum inside of you? You don’t remember you honestly lost track the moment you felt Evan’s cock tap against your cervix, his large hands grasped at your thighs pulling you back onto his cock whenever he felt like you were trying to pull away. You felt your face flush as you made eye contact with him, you didn’t even realize he was staring at you. “Evan…” you whined out as you squeezed your eyes shut as you felt yourself ready to cum again, “I’m won’t stop until you’re full with my child.” He growled out as he felt your pussy pulse around his cock.

The Oni (Kazan Yamaoka)

Fucks you during a trial, he will straight up kill the others and leave you alive. Your nails dig into his back as you feel his cock brush against your womb, why hasn’t the entity ended the match? “F-Fuck!” You screamed out as you felt your pussy gush around his cock, Kazan wasn’t even fucking you at a fast pace yet he was still able to make you cum from one thrust. Kazan grabs your leg and puts it over his shoulder, making his cock thrust deeper into your pussy. Your tongue lolled out as drool dripped from the corner of your mouth, you felt like you were going to pass out. Kazan wasn’t going to let up though, he found you worthy of carrying the next bloodline of Yamaoka and he was going to make sure it did happen.

#dbd smut #tw: dubcon #tw: breeding #tw: pregnancy #dbd the trapper #evan macmillan x reader #kazan yamaoka #Kazan Yamaoka x reader #dbd x reader #dbd x y/n #dbd x you #dbd headcanons

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gravysside · 10 months

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*cough*

woagh who drew that

#dbd #the hillbilly #max thompson jr #dead by daylight #dbd killer #dbd ships #dbd art #dbd fanart #dead by deadlight fanart #dbd x you #dbd x reader #dbd x male reader #dbd hillbilly

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jadeslashes · 11 months

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DBD request:

The killers (The Shape, Trapper, the Wraith and your choice 😘) having an unhealthy obsession with the newest survivor (female if you don't mind?)

includes: the trapper, the wraith, the huntress, the ghost face, the doctor, the legion (just frank), the artist, the cenobite, the executioner, the shape & the knight.

warnings: stalking, obsession, unhealthy relationship dynamics, you get the idea. no smut but still mdni.

note: first dbd request, thanks pookie <3 and bc this is my first dbd request, i'm just gonna include all the killers i write for :)

🔩﹒TRAPPER ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

obsession at first sight, evan has absolutely no plans of letting you get away from him, no matter what he has to do

even if it hurts you, he'll lay traps in your path to ensnare you so he can throw you up over his shoulder, have you in his complete control

and once you're in the basement, you know that there's no escape from him whatsoever

all of his traps are laid so there's no chance of rescue, and he faces you hanging from the hook that he's mercilessly thrown you on, glad to have successfully trapped his prey

🔔﹒WRAITH ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

philip finds himself using his guise of invisibility to keep an eye on you far more often than he himself even intends, crossing paths with you when he doesn't even mean to

whenever you're alone, you catch him sweeping by in your periphery, or hear in the distance a bell chiming

he notices your anxiety mounting with every second that he's watching, and in a way he almost feels bad about it

and when he's ready to chase you down, he'll ring his bell, almost in a taunting sort of way as you run from him

but he won't stop until he's got you

🪓﹒HUNTRESS ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

almost always, her first instinct when she sees survivors is to use her strength and speed, her hunting ability, and throw hatchets, anything to down them and bring them under her mercy

but the way she feels about you is almost similar to the way she feels about the children she couldn't bring herself to kill

something throws those instincts to the side when she sees you, she can't place what exactly it is, but she can't ignore it

💀﹒GHOSTFACE ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

he's always meticulously stalked people, gotten to know them without their knowledge down to the very last detail without their knowledge of his presence

but with you, his usual routine of becoming intimately familiar with victims for the purpose of killing them was interrupted, killing you was not necessarily his intent

unnaturally quickly, he knows details about you that few others pick up on, and you constantly question whether you're really alone

🩻﹒DOCTOR ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

considering the fact that he's completely sadistic, being his obsession is harrowing, beginning to end

especially because he doesn't see these feelings toward you as something he should allow to grow, he doesn't see it as any sort of love or anything romantic, which gives him only one conclusion that he needs to reach

he needs you dead, but he's going to drag it out, make it satisfying for himself, and the way to do that is to drive you mad, and make the process as torturous as possible

every scream of yours fuels him to keep going until his brutal torture is finally done, and by that point, he might even find that he'd gotten so caught up in torturing you that the rest of the survivors managed to escape the trial

🕸﹒LEGION ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

frank knew you'd be a chase, something he'd need to go after, but he's more than okay with that

every second of running after you is envigorating, with each stride that gets him closer to you he wants you more and more

both of you know that you can’t outrun him, he’s in a frenzy on your heels, completely running on the impulse that he hadn’t been able to get out of his head since he saw you; he needed to get to you

the chase doesn’t necessarily end with him plunging his knife into you, but he doesn’t mind it if you think that’s the case

in fact, he takes some pride in the fear and control he knows he has over you

🪶﹒ARTIST ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

while usually she uses her birds as a weapon against her prey, for you she'd be using them much more gently

you’d find yourself being harassed by crows throughout the majority of your trial

but it’s only so carmina can keep track of you, she doesn’t use them to cause you harm

⛓﹒CENOBITE ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

they're constantly using their chains to keep you in close proximity

and also just to hear you scream, no tears of yours could ever be a waste of good suffering in their eyes, they love your cries of fear and pain from whatever they're doing to you or when they're chasing you down

escaping their chains is virtually impossible, each second you manage to evade or hide to rest, you know you’re just putting off the inevitable

🔺﹒EXECUTIONER ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

pyramid head is a bringer of pain and suffering, but is also shockingly subtle during the trial

for a while, he’s merely a looming presence as you work towards escaping

but that’s part of the plan, he takes his time to get you tormented by his power

all so that he can get you locked in one of his cages, where you have no choice but to be all his

🔪﹒SHAPE ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

his stalking is relentless, but he takes his time before he makes a real move on you

and when he finally does strike? there's no way you could've ever been ready for it, one minute you were working on a generator, and the next, you're up over his shoulder with no way to escape

and even if you are constantly on guard, aware of his presence, he'll keep you under his mercy by keeping you injured or downed, never too far from you to keep your fellow survivors from saving you

⚔️﹒KNIGHT ꜜ﹒⟡﹒

even though he's the killer in the trial, as a knight, he feels the need to protect you, killing you isn't even something that crosses his mind

and if tarhos himself can't be keeping his eye on you at any time for one reason or another, alejandro, durkos or sander are doing so for him

he's got an uncanny ability to constantly know where you are and what you're doing, and that's because he's always keeping tabs on you, whether on his own or by means of his faithful three

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rootsofdread · 8 months

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Hi! Can I request Trickster, Michael, Ghostface and Skull Merchant and Bubba with a survivor reader basically being goofy with the other survivors and fucking up gens every 5 seconds because their laughing and can't focus and when they get hooked they make jokes and try to annoy the hell out of the killer? And when it's time to escape they drop their stuff for the killer and leave cause they thought it was a fun match? GN reader pls :)

my first bubba request!! i loved writing him for you 🥺🥺

Bubba Sawyer / The Cannibal:

Bubba knows being in the Entity’s realm isn’t pleasant; it’s been a long time since he’s seen anyone have fun. So in all honesty — he kind of enjoys seeing you all have some fun. He’s the first to run over when he hears several explosions in a row from a generator, because he’s almost certain that it’s you, and he could always use a good laugh. You’re the first person in an even longer time to really make him smile, he loves getting to spend time with you during trials and he especially loves getting to laugh with you. For one trial, he can forget that he has a job to do. He can focus on you instead. His favorite thing is getting your gifts after the trials — he gets so excited seeing you leave something for him. He especially loves toolboxes, so he can work on his chainsaw, but he loves everything you give him. He always looks forward to seeing you again.

Michael Myers / The Shape:

Michael doesn’t really understand how or why you’re so comfortable being so…yourself in trials. It’s such a foreign concept to him. Everyone else is so focused on staying alive, but you, you’re…you’re out in the trials having fun, and laughing. He likes to sit and observe you from afar. You usually try to get him in on the joke, come on over here, Mikey, we’re all having fun, but he just shakes his head. Sometimes he gets closer to you and just looms while you and your fellow survivors cry laughing over your antics, exploding the generator you’re all working on at any possible turn. You’ll never get that done. He may seem judgemental, but really, he’s just…watching. He finds it entertaining, in a way, seeing some of you have fun here. He even feels a bit special when you take the time to leave him your things; he doesn’t necessarily have a use for them, but…it’s nice.

Danny Johnson / The Ghostface:

Danny is likely the only one that would be willing to join you in your antics; he seems to love a good laugh just as much as you do. Particularly, he loves either sneaking up on you by ending up just behind your shoulder and waiting to see how long it takes you to notice him, or by sneaking up on a teammate and not only waiting to see how long it takes them to notice, but also making gestures with his hands to try to get you to laugh, too. He loves how much fun you are — everyone else is such a buzzkill, he can’t imagine why, of course, but you just love to have fun here. You’re always laughing and smiling and making everyone else do the same, and it has him utterly smitten with you. You’re his favorite survivor to hang out with, and it absolutely delights him when you leave him your items at the exit gates. He takes everything you give him, and it’d be safe to assume he’s amassed a collection…somewhere.

Ji-Woon Hak / The Trickster:

Ji-Woon is a loose canon — for a long time, you were never sure how he would react to you, because it was almost always different. Sometimes he seemed annoyed by your antics, or amused, sometimes he completely ignored you and went for someone else; sometimes he was particularly bloodythirsty and you were his first target. It was always a toss-up. Over time, he gets more used to you and your shenanigans — he less feels the need to kill you for them and more just lets you have your fun. As long as you’re not specifically giving him problems, he doesn’t seem to really care. Sometimes, even, when he passes by you looking for someone else, he gives you a little smile or giggle, indicating he may just be amused by you now. And every time you leave him an item, you see him take it, and later, when he sees you outside of a trial, he hands it back to you with a genuine autograph.

Adriana Imai / The Skull Merchant:

Adriana, truthfully, will have none of it. She knows you won’t give her a challenge and she seems to not care much for that fact — she tends to leave you alone during trials and let you have your fun, slowly picking off your team members instead. Sometimes, she’ll give you a look when she passes by you, silently telling you to do something. Run, scream, hide, give her something to hunt you for. Yet, she seems almost flustered when you look back at her with that big grin on your face. She tends to let you go, too, always responding with you’re no fun if you ask her why, but you’ve always considered, perhaps, she has a soft spot for you. She’d never admit it. She does accept your items at the end, though. She knows she can find uses for them.

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sharksnshakes · 2 years

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Survivor! Reader Attempting To Flirt With The Killers HCs

When running and hiding from the killers becomes too much work, it’s time to change strategies.

AN; but... what if. what if i flirted with ‘em. think about it. also, i’ve never tried this format before, so hopefully it goes well

TW; none i can think of? it’s mildly suggestive but only if you squint

Into it and ashamed (if only slightly)

Evan Macmillan, Joey, Philip Ojomo, Max Thompson Jr.

Into it and not ashamed

DANNY JOHNSON, Herman Carter, Caleb Quinn, Pinhead, Freddy Krueger, Kazan Yamaoka

Confused/Doesn’t care

Pyramid Head, Philip Ojomo, Michael Myers

Act like they’re not into it, but they actually are into it

EVAN MACMILLAN, Frank Morrison, Caleb Quinn, Albert Wesker, Kazan Yamaoka

Annoyed by it (if only slightly)

Albert Wesker

Please, they’ve been flirting with you for weeks. How haven’t you noticed?

DANNY JOHNSON, Caleb Quinn, Ji-Woon Hak

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koisuko · 2 months

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Imagine:

A ruthless killer shows mercy. (For my best friend❣️)

Tw: blood, pain, chase, gn reader, use of “you”

Could it get any fucking worse?

This was the 4th time in a row that the entity had chosen you as a victim of the trials. The 4th goddamn time. And for the 4th time, you had shocked yourself in the wires of the generator. A quick jolt shot through the bone of your finger, causing you to flinch and gasp, more in surprise than in pain. You sighed, wiping the sweat from your brow. You weren't a mechanic before all this shit started, yet somehow you knew how to get these things running with little thought or recollection of learning prior. As soon as you knelt down by the still and cold hunk of metal, it was like working on autopilot. Several clicks and huffs before the machine began pumping in succession, whirring to life with one last pull of a lever. The light above ignited, illuminating the once dark and eerie area, signaling one step closer to an escape.

You rose to your feet, dusting the dirt from your ruined jeans. Odd, it was unusually quiet, and the peace was becoming unsettling. It couldn’t have been someone like Ghost Face or Myers, you would have felt the hairs on your neck bristle by this point. Yet if it was someone like the Huntress, you’d hear her hums from miles away. So, why was it so..silent?

You didn’t run, instead creeping with featherlight steps towards the next generator. You could see the top of the light peeking over a wooden wall, but you were too scared to bolt for it. Better to play it safe, incase it really was a stealth killer, and the lack of sleep dulling your ability to sense their eyes on you.

After a few careful steps, you made it to the wall, peeking around to reveal the generator. This was the last one, the last barrier between you, and the gate to freedom. You could practically feel the adrenaline coursing through you at the sight of it. You sighed in relief, taking one step towards it before crying out in pain. Your leg had caught in several strands of bloody barbed wire, your foot sinking and squelching in a bulging red substance. You began to panic, struggling against the hold the barbed wire had on your calf. The more you struggled, the tighter it felt, the sharp tips digging deeper into your skin.

You could hear it now, the loud orchestra of a thundering heartbeat, the sound deafening you from every direction. The only sound breaking through, was the heavy breathing approaching rapidly, and the grinding metallic echo of a massive knife. You winced and wreathed, the wire drawing blood. You watched as it trickled down, joining the bubbling red liquid beneath you.

Run, you screamed into your head. Finally, you managed to free yourself from the coils keeping you in place. Thump, your heart was hammering against your ribcage. Thump, the rhythm matching the stomps of your feet against the dirt, your legs carrying you away from the killer. Thump thump, every time you think you’ve gained distance, he’s quick to close it with each stride. You could see him picking up speed, this chase was nothing to him. You were a goner, with no where to hide and no where to run. And you were right to think so. One second you were running as fast as you could, and the next you were face first in the dirt, your body colliding harshly with the cold ground. You had been too busy looking behind you to notice the trail of torment drawn in your path. You pay the price now, tangled in the stinging barbs of your mistake.

He approached, slowly. You could hear his growls and breaths echoing off the walls of his chamber like head. With each step closer, each inch towards death, your heart deafened you with terror. You had no choice, no way to fight back. So you accepted it, closing your eyes to await the burning sensation of a fatal slash. To your surprise, it never came.

It had become silent once again, even his growls had calmed to an extent. Your eyes fluttered open, being met with his towering figure gazing down on you. He didn’t speak, or make a move, just simply watched. It was unsettling, terrifying even, to see him stand so still. If only you could read minds, was he going to kill you? What did he want? A scream had broken you from your thoughts, sounding from somewhere behind you. On instinct, you craned your neck to look in the direction you heard it, hoping to see a teammate coming to your rescue, only to see nothing in particular. With a heavy huff, you turned back to meet empty space where the executioner once stood. You stared off to where you presumed he had gone, a perplexed look in your eyes at the mercy shown from a killer.

#dead by daylight #dead by deadlight #dbd killer #dbd survivor #dbd #dbd ghostface #dbd x reader #dbd pyramid head #dbd fanfic #dbd fandom #pyramid head #dead by daylight fanfic #dead by daylight x reader #dbd x you #gn reader #dbd pyramid head x reader #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head x you

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writing-for-me-at-this-point · 1 year

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

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

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

Reader. Female reader <3

Word Count. 1392 words

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

Obsession

the state of being obsessed with someone or something.

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

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

plural noun: obsessions

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But is that so wrong?

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angelltheninth · 7 months

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Pyramid Head Forces You Down on His Cock

Pairing: Pyramid Head x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, creampie, size difference, used like a toy, rough sex, cock riding

A/N: Wow, you guys really liked that first little blurb huh? Well it's still spooky month so here's another one.

You'd never taken a cock that big, or that thick before, then again you've never seen someone like Pyramid Head before either, someone so determined to put his cock inside you at all costs, even if it broke you

As much as he wanted to do it while he was on top of you it was becoming obvious that a change in position was needed

You didn't even get to suggest it before he flipped the positions and balanced your wet pussy above his cock, the red, angry tip dripping white with cum that you wanted to be inside of you instead

He knows how much you want it, he can feel your cum dripping down his cock and balls

Don't worry, he will give you exactly what you need, exactly what he needs too

In his mind it's best to do it in one go, the pain will go away the more he moves you down with his big hands, up and down on his cock, forcing you to take all if it, right down to the balls

You can feel the tip ramming against the deepest parts of you

It hurts, a lot but the pleasure is so overwhelming that you throw caution into the wind and tell him to use you like you were his toy

He goes through them so fast unfortunately, he's to rough, but you can take it, you can take the pain and the roughness and the pounding without being fully broken by the end

Anything for him, anything to hear him roar as he fills your womb up with thick seed

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apollodarling-writes · 4 months

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yan! dbd ghostface (danny johnson) headcanons

cws: yandere themes, danny is a perv, non-consensual picture taking, stalking obv, slight nsfw themes but danny is just a freak, danny is a sadist, gore, danny makes out with your wounds, obsessive! danny, possessive! danny,

— yan! ghostface whose eye you catch in your first trial. you who are wide eyed, disoriented, and hyper-aware of your surroundings make easy prey.

— yan! ghostface who stalks you for awhile before approaching you, using your disbelief and naivety against you.

— yan! ghostface who explains your situation, portraying himself as a fellow survivor and guides you through the motions of the match before pressing his blade to your throat.

— yan! ghostface who smirks beneath his mask, watching as your eyes widen with fear and betrayal. he feels himself become aroused as your pretty optics glisten with tears, groaning as you beg for him to let you go.

— yan! ghostface who is stunned by a flashlight, feeling you wriggle free from his grip and sprint off like a frightened bunny.

— yan! ghostface who you are wary of in each match. he singles you out and taunts you, describing each horrific thing he’ll do to you once he gets his hands on you, finding that this little obsession of his is growing by the day.

— yan! ghostface who begins thinking about you even outside of trials. it started as wondering what he would do to you next, turning into lustful daydreams and palming himself at the thought of you.

— yan! ghostface who snaps polaroids of you while you do mundane things. assembling a medkit or toolbox, finding materials for offerings, talking to your fellow survivors…

— yan! ghostface who loathes the sight of you smiling at the others in the survivor camp. you belong to him. that smile of yours is reserved for him. your laugh is reserved for him.

— yan! ghostface who slowly feels those lustful feelings of his grow into something deeper. he finds himself thinking less and less about ways to kill you, and more about ways he could make you smile.

— yan! ghostface who, in your next trial with him, brings you the body of each survivor, dropping it in front of you much like a cat would gift its owner a dead mouse.

— yan! ghostface who corners you, sitting on your stomach and wrapping his fingers around your throat. he swiftly snaps a polaroid of this beautiful sight, crazed ramblings about how you’ve caught his attention leaving his lips.

— yan! ghostface who is amused at how quickly you’ve gained his interest, his favorite pastimes stalking you and leaving just enough of a trace for you to know he was there.

— yan! ghostface who finds it incredibly romantic to hold your hand while you bleed out beneath him, his mask lifted to show off the frenzied look in his eyes, blood dripping from his chin and onto your paling features.

— yan! ghostface who looooves to makeout with your stab wounds. he’s always sure to leave you for last, finding motivation in the fact that if he rids the trial of all other survivors, he can spend as much time with you as he pleases.

— yan! ghostface who coos at you as you beg for him to let you go… or to just end it already. a frown tugging at his lips as he feels his heart pang with the slightest of remorse. he quickly covers it up with a mocking sneer, telling you that you should be proud to bear his love in such a way. no one’s ever had it but you.

— yan! ghostface who singles out each person you talk to in their next trial with him, mercilessly slaughtering them as he tells them to stay the fuck away from you.

— yan! ghostface who somehow convinces the entity to let you spend some time with him on a random day, designating it as your new birthday. he’ll watch with interest as your shaky fingers grip the rusted fork, shoving the mediocre cake down your throat. he’s never seen a better sight.

— yan! ghostface who loooves everything about you <33

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diejager · 9 months

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Riding

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

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

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

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

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

“I could tell you the same, Ghostie.”

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

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

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

“Love ya too, Danny.”

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clarks-letterman · 1 year

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Danny reuniting with Reader- an old childhood friend- in the Entitys Realm ?

Reader can be Survivor or Killer , i think both concepts could be fun :]c

old friends | danny johnson x gender-neutral reader

a/n — hope its good! haven’t written for dbd yet and tried to make some stuff more plausible and fleshed out, and i really hope it doesn’t contradict any messy lore the game has!

words — 1.5k

~~~

When Danny woke up in the Entity's realm, he was unsurprised to find himself the sole addition to an already established line of powerful killers. He made a scary tale of himself to haunt survivors—you never know when he could be watching—and got as close to a "friend" as he could be with the other masked murderers like him, and with the wannabes that never could be him. But it wasn't always like that.

In his hometown, someplace far from where he'd eventually end up, he went to school most of the year, had a job over the summer, and made one good friend for any time he needed comfort. He usually didn’t, but there were times when he wanted to toy with someone’s feelings in a way that kept violence out of it. Animals were an enjoyable enough target for him to keep him off of people, like the occasional rabbit or frog strolling through his backyard.

That’s what it started as, at least. It was surprisingly simple to get on your good side; he lent an ear when you needed it and stayed distant when he knew he had you hooked. But he grew to like you as an actual friend with the more time he spent around you, both when you knew about it and when you didn’t. As he got older, he found himself having fewer and fewer friends. Because alongside his age, his twisted mind became more and more obscured, and in his aim to hide it, he hid more of himself away. What once was a tactic to draw you in eventually stopped working, and you confronted his hot and cold behavior.

It became fitting for his job and hobby, needing to hide himself behind the camera’s eye and tucked away in the darkness around his victim’s houses. Now, the latter seemed to be the most useful in the latest game the Entity conjured up. He tries not to think about how it severed the connection he had with his only real friend.

Danny looked around the new location—a line of houses with a four-way street meeting in the middle to divide each house into their own irregularly shaped yard and fence. It looked homely, like the defunct township of Springwood and the segment of old townhouses on the street he knew as Lampkin Lane.

Darting off, he made sure to creep around the edges of the arena, prowling around with a glint in his eye. He heard the swish of footsteps towards a generator as he rounded a car on the street. The night covered him on command. He raised his blade and peered around the corner. Two sacrifices for the Entity worked on the archaic machinery, one covered by the generator as Danny was on the opposing side, and the other was to the left side of it, open and vulnerable. His eyes lingered on the subject—small, male, companion, wrapped in bloody business-casual. The generator chimed with rapid success, so Danny discerned the figure to be the wimpy scampered Dwight Fairfield.

Danny felt a chill of excitement run along his spine; the self-imposed timer had started—a moment where he knew his victim in and out, able to deal the most damage with the least effort to them. Dwight finally noticed the shadowy figure to his right and made a run to the nearest house. Danny pursued the fleeing man, passing the second person working on machinery to chase the easier target. He followed closely behind Dwight through the doorway he entered and into the house.

He trailed behind him on the wooden stairs and swung for his ankles with a missed strike, leaving a chipped divot in one of the steps. Dwight ran to the end of the hall where there was a window—surely, he would take it—so Danny planned to swing again. But, Dwight made a hard left into the room next to it, and he missed his attack for the second time. He turned, looked into the room, and another open window looked right back at him. The bedroom wall made a great frame for the street just outside. Out beyond the view, he heard the sound of two generators starting up with a sputter, and he knew that a third one was soon to be tackled.

He was down the stairs and out the door in seconds, running to just barely meet the cutoff for Dwight’s impending doom by using his sharpened senses to pick up on where the frightened man could have gone. Without much work, he found him just in time as he cowered near a small bush for coverage, hoping he would be overlooked. Unfortunately for Dwight, Danny had him cornered and gravely injured with one sweep of his knife across his back.

The second survivor came running towards him as he picked up Dwight: a taller, lighter-haired guy in a blue cop uniform. Leon, Wesker said his name was. He was one of the more pesky survivors, as he had the ability to craft the most annoying form of counter-play against someone on the opposite team. His flashbang went off without much help this time, though, and Danny managed to keep his hold on Dwight firm. He swung for Leon, got him once, and tracked down a hook to throw Dwight on.

No one came for the poor schmuck, as usual. No one looked for him when he was still considered alive, and the same went for him now, as the Entity’s grasp sent a wave throughout the playing field that the other side was down a team member. Danny managed to down Leon without the wasted time needed to study him and lured the third survivor his way, injuring him and sending him into a sprint for his life. Eventually, he downed him as well and had the both of them resting peacefully before meeting their dooms on hooks across the map. He saw a glimpse of the fourth and final survivor as they ran around a corner, though Danny was carrying his third victim at the time and solely focused on getting them on a hook above all else.

Danny receded into the darkness, letting it shroud him in it as he traversed the map, looking for the final member of the game. That’s when he saw them in the same room he had chased Dwight up to, investigating the wall of all things. He was sure of it, as strange as it sounded, because he couldn’t recall a generator appearing in that room, let alone that floor of the house. Regardless, he made his way back up and through the door. He hit you once while you were distracted and twice when you took the window as a form of escape, watching you fall on the other side.

The scream sounded painfully familiar to one in his past. His trained ears recognized it as the same scream from when you had accidentally scared yourself into thinking a dust bunny was the same deadly spider in Australia. Danny’s legs shook as he stepped over the window he didn’t cross through earlier and out onto the small ledge, realizing that this was the same window he had been ushered out of as a teenager when you weren’t allowed to have friends over and had to sneak him in, or when he would happily invite himself into your home. He looked around, taking in the sights now that he wasn’t pursuing anyone. This place was more than just a haunting image of homeliness; it was his home—hell, it was your whole damn block.

He rushed over to you, simply standing for a moment, watching you turn and do your best to look up at him. Danny had the advantage of wearing a mask, so he could get as close and as personal as he wanted. Unless, in the months or years that had gone by in the real world, you finally caught wind of his cross-country endeavors. Not wanting to give himself away, he hoisted you over his shoulder as he would with anyone else, leaping off the ledge and onto your front lawn. He felt your fists pounding against his back, struggling and fighting to be free. His one hook near the house had been used for a sacrifice, and the nearest one was still too far for him to make it in time. With a strange feeling of relief, you had worn him out for a moment, and you ran away from him, limbering for a final chase that never came.

Danny seemingly disappeared but had cloaked himself in the night again to stalk you from afar. He watched you run straight to the open hatch on the floor. He had decided that he studied you long enough with his stare; he knew all of your weak points and where to strike first, but he couldn't bring himself to approach you when you were so close to freedom. With a huff that echoed in his mask, he watched you disappear into the darkness, and the Entity surrounded him until he was deep in the woods with a few killers that hadn't been called for a match.

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sillygoosealert · 8 days

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hiii🌚🌚 you should totally make a little thing where we’re running from danny during a trial and get stuck in a window while trying to vault and yk.. he fucks us from behind and it’s like a “help me step bro i’m stuck🥺” kinda position yk HEHEHE 😈😈😈

Sorry i fell off the face of the earth for a few days i had to like idk reset myself ☆(≧∀≦*)ﾉ

Never say step bro I'm stuck again I'm not even joking I'll block you, Stinky

Danny Johnson NSFW, raw, has no aftercare, and a little plot but mainly smut, he’s MEAN (cannon bc because he murders people), um actually he's also COCKY (cannon bc he kills people), and he calls you piggy ( cannon because he likes horror and that is a black Christmas reference) knife stuff

Fog whisps around you as you are forced into another trial. Another day another round. Is it day, or is it night? You may never find the answer.

The entity is cruel in your clothing, a skirt to your mid-thigh, and a button down. Nothing to keep in the warmth. Nothing to hide you from the reality that is the cold red forest.

You think your teammates must all be together- not including you, because a generator is done at lightning speed. Then you hear guttural screams, plural, also at lightning speed. Maybe you shouldn't get them, you'll too just die. Survival of the fittest. They won't remember the trial if you let them die, it's like they have a reset- or something.

You're crouching, lurking, and waiting. Not for long, as The Ghostface jumps out at you.

‘Boo’

He's snickering and taunting you. Mocking the screams of your now-fallen teammates.

A jungle gym is in sight, if you abuse the window and stun him, perhaps the hatch could be located. Maybe you're too tubby, or maybe because the entity is against you, but the window gets blocked from the top halfway through. You do not make it, you are stuck.

He’s snorting and making animal noises behind you.

‘What’s the entity feeding you that you can’t get through the windows?’

‘Oh, it’s blocked.’

He grabs your thighs and tries to pull you out. However, his pullout game must be weak as you do not budge.

He keeps his hands on your thighs as he whistles.

‘Can you not get out?’

‘No?’

‘Does this happen a lot?’

‘First time actually’

You're shivering, it's too much. He's too casual about it.

‘I could cut you in half and play magician, that would be rather amusing ’

‘Please don't’

‘Do you have something else in mind, piggy?’

Nothing. Actually, you're crying a little, but you don't say anything.

He starts to coo and awe at your noises, rubbing and kneading your ass.

He goes around to your other side and pulls out his camera. You’re a mess. Wiping away tears from your cheeks and eyes.

‘That's it. Perfect. That's the picture I'll keep of you.’

He’s taking a couple photo’s. More than needed. Maybe he likes it when you cry, the glossy kind of look.

‘Just me and you babe, whatever will we do?’

He snaps the band on your panties. You just realize nothing is left to his imagination from where he is now standing again.

‘Are you scared?’

‘A little’

There isn't any reason to tell the truth or lie to him. But you think he likes it when you're scared, something kinky.

The cold plastic of his mask is pressed into your ass. He's sniffing you..?

You can feel the squeeze of his hands on your thighs, groaning into them.

He takes off the mask, not that you can him. But the feel of his warm tongue is enough to assume he took it off.

But that's not the only thing to come off, as he slips off your panties as well.

Spreading open your folds, you can hear the shudder of the camera as he takes pictures of your pussy.

You know it's wet, it was dripping on your underwear. What lewd photos he now will have. Blackmail material?

He begins sucking on your clit, shoving his face into you.

Messy, unplanned, and purely out of want.

That's not how Danny usually went. Besides all the times he did things out of rage, like the laser tag incident..

After he's mixed his spit into your cunt, he's ready.

Pulling up his cloak and pulling down his pants, he stares at you.

You're pretty. And you have a nice ass.

Maybe you would make a good girlfriend, maybe.

But he just wants to fuck you right now, really hard

He pumps himself before sliding in.

He's thick, but also kinda lean?

You're shaking again, this is much too abrupt for you

Pinching your leg, he pulls out his blade.

‘A little blood never hurt anyone, right?’

He starts to cut into your thigh. His thrust growing more erotic

Putting the knife away, he smacks the place he just sliced up

Yelping, you start to cry, again.

‘I like that- you crying. Sob for me’

‘You're doing good, do you like merely laying there as you get violated? This could happen to anyone, whore or not. Does that scare you?’

A rhetorical question, he just wants you to cry while he scratches your bleeding leg.

He starts to rub your clit, whipping his knife out again.

‘Where do you want me to put my signature?’

‘It hurts- stop, please..’

Caving GF into your back is a blur to both of you, as he is still occasionally slapping your body around while thrusting considerably too hard

He pulls out and cums all over your wounds, covering them slightly in semen.

‘People would be shaking if they saw this. Are you shaking because of me?’

You didn't even realize you weren't stuck anymore. Only after you fell backward you realized.

‘I'm going to let you go back. But I want you to tell them what I did to you- scare them. Let them know they are not safe from me.’

‘Okay, I promise, I'll tell them’

He picks you up and walks around with you clinging to him.

When you are near the hatch, he puts you down.

‘A picture- for you, to keep’

He's sitting with you on the ground, keeping you in his lap. Putting his face right next to yours- actually, you don't remember when he put the mask back on. You didn't get to see his face.

The light hurts, but he gives you a little polaroid with the two of you face to face, cheek to cheek.

It would be cute if he didn't just cut up your legs

Tucking the photo into your bra, he drops you into the hatch. How kind of him.

He waves goodbye, you do not wave back.

It wasn't bad, it was just a lot. Rushed? Scary? Harmful?

Kinda hot, but you really hope he doesn't keep those photos. For blackmail reasons..

🎀

#dead by daylight #dbd ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface #dbd killer #dbd #dbd x reader #dbd x you #dead by deadlight #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight x you #dbd ghostface x reader #daisy writes #danny jed olsen johnson #danny johnson #danny johnson x reader #danny johnson x you #jed olsen

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