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elryuse · 4 days

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Can you make a Yandere Mina? But I want the Male Reader/OC to be a yandere too or he is a yandere lover (I hope you get what I mean).

Our Perfectly Normal Lovely Relationship

YANDERE MINA X YANDERE MALE READER

The spotlight bathed Mina in a blinding white glow. Her porcelain skin seemed to shimmer as she delivered the final note of her hit song, the screams of her adoring fans echoing through the stadium. But behind the perfectly sculpted facade, a storm brewed within her. Her eyes, usually sparkling with manufactured charm, scanned the audience, searching for a single face – Y/n's.

There he was, lost in the sea of glowing lightsticks, his face etched with a devotion that sent a familiar thrill through her. Months ago, a single DM on Instagram, a simple message praising her latest song, had ignited a spark. Yet, it wasn't just the adoration that captivated her; it was the raw passion in his words, an undercurrent of obsession that mirrored her own.

Weeks of meticulously crafted online interactions later, Y/n was hers. Their dates were filled with whispered secrets and stolen glances, a whirlwind romance fueled by a shared intensity that bordered on madness. He'd confessed his unwavering love for her music, but Mina saw a hunger in his eyes that went far beyond mere fandom.

Their love deepened, a possessive, suffocating embrace that felt strangely comforting. Mina used her influence to eliminate any perceived threats – a journalist who dared to write a critical review, a fellow idol whose eyes lingered on Y/n a second too long. Y/n, in turn, became her silent guardian, meticulously monitoring her online interactions. He'd even taken to leaving "gifts" at the doorsteps of her competitors – poisoned chocolates, threatening notes signed with a single crimson rose.

One rainy afternoon, while Mina was away at a recording session, curiosity gnawed at her. With a mix of nervous excitement and trepidation, she decided to use her spare key to enter Y/n's apartment. The air hung heavy with a strange musky scent, and goosebumps prickled on her skin as she stepped inside.

Then she saw it – a hidden door, ajar at the back of the living room. Her heart pounded in her chest as she pushed it open, revealing a dimly lit room that sent a tremor of dread through her veins. Walls plastered with her pictures, newspaper clippings detailing her career, and a makeshift shrine adorned with her personal belongings – her discarded microphone, a ripped piece of clothing, a crumpled love letter she'd carelessly tossed months ago.

Y/n's obsession mirrored her own, a chilling realization that should have terrified her. Instead, a twisted sense of belonging bloomed in her chest. Here, in this room filled with her essence, she found not fear, but a terrifying sense of completion.

That night, when Y/n returned, his face pale with shock at finding her in his secret room, Mina knew she wouldn't tell a soul. In fact, a macabre plan began to form in their minds. They weren't just two souls bound by love; they were instruments of a twisted symphony of obsession.

Their first target was Detective Kim, a man haunted by unsolved cases with eerily similar methods. He'd been following Mina's career for years, a nagging suspicion festering in his gut. But without concrete evidence, his suspicions remained just that.

Their plan unfolded with chilling efficiency. They lured Detective Kim to a secluded warehouse under the pretense of a tip. Detective Kim, ever the tenacious investigator, arrived alone, unaware of the twisted game he was about to become a part of.

The warehouse echoed with the metallic clang of a single light bulb swinging precariously overhead. Mina, her face devoid of its usual pop idol charm, watched with a chilling detachment as Y/n tightened the binds around the detective's wrists.

"You've been a thorn in our side for far too long, Detective," Y/n hissed, his voice laced with a dangerous calmness. "You'll learn why some things are better left undisturbed."

There was no elaborate torture, no prolonged suffering. Their act was swift and brutal, a single, fatal blow silencing Detective Kim forever. It wasn't about inflicting pain; it was about removing a threat, a chilling testament to the power their love wielded.

With Detective Kim gone, they were free. But the taste of blood, the thrill of silencing a potential threat, ignited a new spark within them. They craved more. Their crimes became bolder, more audacious. They targeted high-profile individuals, leaving behind their calling card – a single crimson rose, forever a reminder of the terrifying couple they were becoming.

The media dubbed them the "K-Pop Killers," a Bonnie and Clyde for the modern age. Their infamy skyrocketed, a macabre mix of fear and fascination gripping the nation. Mina, the fallen idol, became a symbol of shattered innocence, while Y/n, the enigmatic figure lurking in the shadows, became an object of morbid curiosity.

Years passed, a trail of bodies and stolen jewels marking their path. They remained elusive, ...a phantom couple leaving a nation breathless and terrified. Interpol joined the hunt, their faces plastered on wanted posters plastered across continents. From daring diamond heists to meticulously planned assassinations, they were a whirlwind of calculated chaos, their crimes fueled by their twisted love and a morbid sense of liberation.

Their notoriety reached a fever pitch when they orchestrated the kidnapping of a high-ranking politician's daughter. The nation watched with bated breath as demands were issued, a single crimson rose left on the national news desk every night. Negotiations stalled, the city held hostage by an invisible threat.

Just as the deadline loomed, authorities received a tip. A lone fisherman claimed to have seen them on a remote, uncharted island. With the military on high alert, a task force descended on the island, a swarm of helicopters tearing through the pristine silence.

What they found sent shivers down their spines. Nestled amidst the palm trees stood a dilapidated beach hut, the only sign of life. The air hung heavy with an acrid metallic tang. As the soldiers cautiously breached the door, they were met with a macabre tableau.

Mina and Y/n lay sprawled on the floor, their bodies riddled with bullets, limbs tangled in a final, desperate embrace. Their eyes, wide open, stared blankly at the ceiling, a chilling mirror of their shared madness. But it wasn't fear that etched their faces; it was a twisted joy, a macabre triumph that sent a tremor of unease through the soldiers.

"Told you this island was perfect, darling," Y/n rasped, his voice weak but laced with a twisted satisfaction.

Mina, her once vibrant eyes clouded with a dark euphoria, managed a weak cough before whispering, "Together forever, Y/n. Just like we planned." They both smiled maniacally.

Their reign of terror was over, their love story forever stained with blood. News reports proclaimed their demise a victory, a dark chapter finally closed. Yet, as the bodies were loaded onto helicopters, a single crimson rose, untouched by the chaos, lay nestled between their cold, lifeless hands.

In the end, they weren't just lovers, not just criminals. They were the Mina and Y/n duo, a chilling legend whispered in hushed tones – a testament to the darkness that lurks beneath the surface, a love story written in blood, forever etched in the memory of a nation.

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rabbittwist · 1 year

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The Ghost's Pet

The Ghostface - Danny “Jed Olsen” Johnson x Reader

Summary: N/A - Straight sauce.

Word Count: 4.7k

MASTERLIST | Dead by Daylight | The Ghostface

WARNING [pet play, degrading, name calling, doggy style, breeding kink, creampie, creaming, puppy and bunny wear, oral, dumbification, death, long drabble]

The scent of warm food flooded your nostrils as you made sure to mix the ingredients together, creating a sort of pasta for yourself and your boyfriend. He was suppose to be home two hours ago for your planned movie night, and you couldn't lie, you were irritated; you've had this planned for weeks, his work at the Roseville Gazette interfering with your intimacy left and right.

You stared frustrated at your food, talking to it as if it did something wrong, "Damn it, Harry, where are you?"

You placed the lid of the pan over the warming dish, turning around to the fridge to get your sparkling cider for yourself. You took out a wine glass and the green bottle, placing them on the counter before searching for a bottle opener.

"Where is that fucking bottle opener?" You snarled while going through practically every drawer and cabinet.

The ringing of your phone jack caused your head to snap around towards the wall, watching the device vibrate with every ring. Must be Harry. You strolled over to the phone, picking up and bringing it to your ear with the full intent to chew out your boyfriend.

"Harry, you were suppose to be here two hours ago. I thought you had a short day at the gazette?"

All you heard was a distorted chuckle from the other line before your blood ran cold and your fire was out, "He did, dollface. But, I think Harry had other plans for the night."

You turned to look around you before back at the phone jack, "I thought we had a deal to never call me back again!"

"We did, but you broke one of our rules, sweet girl."

You couldn't help but scoff, "Oh yeah? And what rule did I break, sweet boy? Because I'm pretty sure I kept up my end of our agreement."

"You threw out the collar."

You felt fear strike through your body as you stared blankly at the wall, another chuckle ringing through the phone at your sudden silence before his voice became violent, "I thought I told you to keep that collar, you dumb bitch!"

Your voice cracked as your heart began to beat louder in your ears, "I was going to, but Harry found it and told me to throw it out!"

Your stalker tuts quietly, "But does his word really hold that much weight over your pathetic life?"

"If he were to ever find out-!"

"If he were to ever find out I fucked his girlfriend with that pretty pink collar, his body would turn up in a ditch somewhere. Besides doll, if that were to be the case, I'd just fuck you right in front of him so he could really see how much of a deranged slut you are when you're fucked dumb."

His sadistic laugh rang through the phone despite your panicked protest, "You wouldn't!"

His laughter abruptly stopped and was replaced with an angered snarl, "Try me! Because I can guaran-fucking-tee you'd actually love to get fucked by the man you hate right in front of your sorry excuse of a boyfriend!"

You turned so your back was up against the wall, your other hand gripping the bottom of the phone as you shook, "You're crazy! Just leave me alone and go play your stupid, shitty games with someone else!"

"Doll," He chuckled before his voice became dangerously low, "you have five minutes to get ready."

The line went dead, the phone now in front of you with trembling hands as you slowly hooked it back on the jack. You knew exactly what he meant, and if you disobeyed him, you were as good as dead. You slammed your fist against the wall, yelling out a strained fuck before running straight up the stairs and to your bedroom (not before turning off your stove, of course) to begrudgingly follow his command.

You kneeled down in front of your door, hands on your thighs and gripping your frilled stockings. He is such a pervert.. How could a man be into these things?! You thought as your eyes squeezed shut. Your heart froze, however, when your ears picked up on heavy footsteps, knowing damn well they were headed straight for your room. The grip on your thigh highs tightened when the steps came straight up the stairs and slowed to a stop at your door, suspense thickening the air around you from the long pause.

Slowly, the door that separated you and the serial killer of Roseville began to open, the loud creaking sound causing your heart to sporadically beat against your ribcage. When the creaking finally stopped and your door was held open against the wall, your eyes were met with the shiny tips of black leather boots. You refused to look up at the deranged psycho and give him the courtesy of seeing you in such a submissive state, even if what you were wearing already screamed as much.

Despite your efforts, you heard a low whistle pierce the silence, and watched as the same leather boots prowled just in front of your knees.

With a deep rough voice, he talked down to you, "Look. At. You. All dolled up for me like the good girl you are."

You bit back the insults you so badly wanted to let fly, but you knew nothing good would come from insulting the very man that held your life in the palm of his hand.

You could hear his smug smile despite the mask that covered it, "Don't I get a hello, little one?"

You let your eyes gaze off from his boots, making it very clear you wanted nothing to do with what he asked. With three tuts from his tongue, he bent onto his heals and placed a finger under your chin, redirecting your attention up to his stupid father death mask. You stared straight into his mesh covered eyes, still keeping your mouth shut disobediently.

"I said.." His gloved hand quickly tangled into your hair, tugging your face straight up to him despite your silent whimper, "Don't I get a hello?"

"Hello, Master.." You said with a strained voice, the burning in your scalp causing your face to scrunch up into a pained expression.

"Good little bitch. Now, how do you greet your master?"

You shook your head against his hold, a growl rumbling through his throat and giving your locks another harsh tug, "Don't be such a fucking brat. I trained you better than this, and I won't be having my pup acting like a fucking mongrel."

The ghostface threw your body down to the floor, a pained cry coming from the impact as he stood tall over your crumpled figure, "You were such a good dog when we last saw each other. So obedient.. Listening and welcoming me at the door just as my well-trained pet would."

You shakily picked yourself up from the floor as he continued, "Did that fucking bastard taint you? Oh, tsk tsk tsk, that won't do.. Come on, doll. Show me that you don't need to be trained again like last time."

You froze at the mention of needing to be retrained, your mind flashing back to the many punishments he inflicted on your body from your refusal to listen. Almost instantaneously, you pushed yourself up onto your knees and looked up at the masked killer before you. He stared down at you as your eyes met his, your hands coming up to his thighs and your chest pressing against his legs. His body relaxed as he watched you, his hand coming up onto your head while you nuzzled your cheek against his hip and retained eye contact.

You felt his thumb stroke your hair as he cooed, "Good little dog."

You pulled away once he told you to stop, sitting back on your heels and waiting for his next move while he continued to look down at you.

He spoke to you with a firm tone, "Place your hands on your thighs, and don't you dare move them."

With shaky hands, you did as he told you while hearing him grab something from his belt. You knew one of the things he took was his classic Buck 120 from the familiar noise of unclasping the sheath on his hip, a sudden fear laying in your stomach over the weapon he now held snug. Slowly, the tip of the blade came under your chin and tilted your head up, your eyes glinting with obvious anxiety as they met the lens of his camera.

When his finger was about to take a picture, a low hum came from his chest, and he lowered the device, "Something's.. missing."

You looked at him with a curious gaze before hearing an aha! come from behind the mask. The slasher quickly shoved his gear away and nabbed something from behind his back, an all too familiar jingle causing your face to pale.

He held out the very collar you had thrown out, watching the bell shake and make noise, "Surprise, dollface."

You let out an involuntary whimper as he brought the piece of jewelry towards your neck, pulling away from the pink thing with clear fear flashing across your face. You could practically hear his frown as his voice flared violently, growling, "Come here!" while he grabbed you and forced the collar around your neck.

Sighing, he brought out his knife and camera, and placed his weapon back under your chin, "Finally, now you look perfect.. Now, look up for me."

Your eyes landed back on the lens, watching the red light flash when he clicked down to take a picture. You flinched at the shuttering noise, yet kept your eyes on the camera to keep yourself nick-free from his blade. The back of the single film that came out of the device caught your attention, his hand putting the knife away (much to your relief) and taking the picture between his fingers. He waved the photo in the air to let the image begin to form, letting you watch his movement like a hawk as he eyed the photograph. A soft chuckle ran through his lips when he saw his work clear up, the mesh eyes of the mask meeting yours when he turned. He brought the film down to your level, twisting it between his fingers to let you see exactly what he captured that ushered him to take the picture.

You felt your face flush red when you were met with a provocative picture of yourself wearing the embarrassing gear he forced you to put on many times before. Your head adorned folded puppy ears that matched the color of your hair, a frilly pink bra that had a white paw print on each cup, and a matching pair of panties that paired with your frilly white stockings. You saw a tuff of fur pop up from behind you, a deeper blush resting on your cheeks from the cameo. This didn't go unnoticed by the killer, however, and he pulled the picture back to himself to examine what exactly got you flustered.

Upon noticing what you saw, he let an amused smirk grace his lips before instantly turning to you, "You know, doll. I don't see that.. back piece.. in this photo. I might need to take another shot from a different angle."

You let out a whine of protest, but immediately were quieted by his shushing, "Sh sh sh, baby.. I know my little puppy wants to do good for me, so she'll turn around and bend over, right? She doesn't want that shiny blade her master has to cut deep into her skin and gut her like a fish.. right?"

You felt fear shiver down your spine and make your hair stand on edge, shaking your head frantically at his underlying threat.

He chuckled darkly at your scared expression, placing the photo on your dresser before turning back to you with a serious tone, "Turn around, ass up."

Sluggishly, you did as you were told and turned around, getting on all fours and folding your arms so your chest pressed up on the floor. You heard a purr-like growl rumble from the ghostface's direction, his presence getting dangerously close to your figure.

With a taunting chuckle, he grazed a finger down your back and rubbed his gloved thumb against your trembling flesh, "Fuck, darling.. If only you could see yourself bent over like a bitch begging for dick."

He let out a pleased sigh as he pulled away with his camera coming back out, "I need a shot of this for my collection."

You covered your face with your hands and refused to focus on what he was doing, until you heard his tongue click and his footsteps draw near again. When you were about to question his approach as you pulled your head out of your hands, you let out a surprised whine when you felt his hand grip onto the fluff that stuck out of your panties.

"Your little plug is a bit off center, doll. Let me fix that for you."

You moaned out as you felt your butt plug twist inside of you, gripping your hands against the floor as he continued to adjust your curled tail. When he was done fixing your fluff, he slowly pulled away with one final tug, the plug pulling against the opening of your ass and forcing out another moan. He let out a quiet groan from your erotic noise, palming at the hardened bulge in his trousers before once again gripping his camera.

Noticing your hiding face, he brought up a hand and began snapping his fingers, whistling at you like one would with a dog for your attention. With a silent exhale, you looked back at the ghostface from over your shoulder and gazed at the photo capturer through your lashes.

An audible grin rumbled through his mask as the camera shuttered to capture your image, "Beautiful.."

You couldn't lie, his praise made you feel utterly aroused, but you refused to cave in to his false affection. Despite this, you heard a dark laugh echo around your room, the infamous killer now inches away from your ass.

"Baby," He placed his hands on your hips as he sat on his heels behind you, "do you even realize your shaking your ass like you're wagging your tail?"

You felt your eyes widen at his comment, indeed realizing you were shaking your ass like a happy dog would. God, you must be going insane, because there was no way you'd act like this for him.. right? You stopped your actions just as quickly as you realized, feeling tears leak into your eyes from pure embarrassment.

Sensing your emotional climax, he began to taunt you as he pulled your plugged ass flush against his crotch, "Aw.. is my little bitch crying? Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll take such good care of you.. Besides, I think you deserve a reward for being such an obedient pet."

You felt his gloved hand trail from the back of your neck to your lower back, letting the pads of his fingers hook under the hem of your panties. You felt panic rise in your chest, knowing fully well what was going to come next. But panic wasn't the only thing that settled in your body; it was paired with want.. desire.

Taking his sweet time, the ghostface pulled your pink panties over your plug and down your thighs, savoring how the cloth clung to your thickness and made small ridges against your skin.

Feigning surprise to tease you further, he pulled your thighs apart and eyed your dripping pussy, "Ho-ly shit, you sick little puppy.. You're already wet."

You subconsciously pressed further back against his hips, feeling his hardened bulge press right up into your slit and against your clit. The masked man let out a carnal growl before thrusting into you, a hand resting on your ass and the other holding a thigh apart. Your lips formed an o-shape as he continued to rut straight into your sex, your folds wrapped around his solid bulge and allowing it to rub your aroused bud. He humped into you for what felt like forever, his feral grunts and pants matching with your bitch whines and moans as you soon began to press back into his movements.

With a growly voice, he looked down at your moving body while tightening the hold on your thigh, “Shit baby.. you’re humping against my dick like a bitch in heat. Do you really need me to fuck you that badly?”

You finally lost your moral compass from the euphoria, nodding rapidly as you kept backing into his thrusts.

Laughing in almost an insane manner, the ghostface smiled wickedly at your dumbed out answer, “Good-fucking-pup. Finally being honest with yourself, hm? Well, if you want it that bad, you’ll have to beg for it.. Come on, I know you can do it. You’ve done it for me before.. Beg.”

You began begging just as he ordered, every word sounding out of breath, “Please fuck me! Please- please- please, I need you to mate with me like the stupid breeding bitch I am!”

“You forgot the name, doll. I won’t give you what you want till you say who you want to breed that dripping pussy.”

You cried out as loud as possible, “Master, please fuck me!”

He let out a short-lived laugh as he paused his hips, “Good-fucking-girl.”

Quickly, he began to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, making swift work to get his tight cock out of his trousers. You pressed your chest flush against the flooring, trying to push your ass out more for him despite your mind screaming that this was wrong. God, you were such a slut for actually wanting the ghostface to fuck you. You know what he's done, who he's killed, and felt all the unwanted, perverted things he's desired. You just couldn't fight it anymore, it would always be a losing battle, so why not just give in and let yourself drown in the debauchery of being used by a killer?

You let out a quiet moan when you felt the head of his dick prod at your cunt, forcing more of your honey to drool over his sex and onto the floor.

With one last tease, he harshly smacked your ass and grabbed your hair, his falsely soft words shushing your pained whine, "Bark if you want your master's dick plunging in and out of your cunt."

For the first time in a while, you spoke as you turned back to face him, "What?! I don't want to bark!"

His voice became harsh, "You'll fucking bark because I told you to! Do you want me to stab my knife into your sternum and rip your intestines out?!"

You shook your head quickly, your body quivering from his threat, "Then fucking bark like the good whore bitch I trained you to be!"

You turned back towards the floor, allowing your eyes to stare at the wood as you contemplated your next move. Deciding you wanted to stay alive, you sucked in your embarrassment, closed your eyes shut, and let out a silent bark.

It didn't appease him, however, when he gave a hard pull from your locks, "I taught you better than that pathetic attempt. Louder."

Your throat rumbled a whimper before making a loud bark, your face flushing red and your shame becoming larger.

The ghostface let out an amused chuckle, wrapping your locks around his hand and pulling your thighs apart with the other, "Good girl.. good-fucking-girl."

With a loud slap, his hips slammed flush against your ass, and his cock plunged straight up towards your cervix with a delicious squelching noise. Your eyes rolled up to the back of your head and your tongue instinctively pushed out, leaking drool all over your lips and chin.

His voice sounded strained, like he was growling through clenched teeth, "So.. tight.. So fucking perfect, just for me."

And with that, he began thrusting his cock in and out of your weeping pussy, moans of pure ecstasy ringing throughout your room that were paired with carnal grunts and purr-like growls. The slasher fucked you into the floor, his hold on your hair tightening and a hand moving up to your lower back from your thigh. He grabbed your bouncing tail, tugging on your plug just enough so you could feel it move, but not pop it out.

You remember the very nights that went like this; him fucking you on your floor until you saw stars. The difference between then and now is how he's treating you less like an actual dog, and being all around nicer (if that was even the correct word to call The Ghostface of Roseville). He would force you to bark constantly, crawl on all fours, drink from a stupid fucking platter, and sit in your dog's cage - anything to convince you of being his personal pup. Well, he didn't even need to convince you, because he would just force you to think it, otherwise the knife he held would find its way into your skin, and the leash he always had nearby tugged you into a submissive state.

His pace picked up when he noticed your puppy ears bouncing in sync with his thrusts, and the jingling of your collar's bell matching the lewd image. As much as he wanted to take a picture, the pleasure of your mushy sex gripping onto his fat cock kept him from taking his hands off you. You were so delicious on his dick, trying to milk him for his semen with the vice-like clench you had on him. He couldn't get enough.

The tickle of your fluffy tail against your skin worsened as he leaned down flush against your back, letting both hands trail down your sides and to your voluptuous hips. His thrusting quickened faster than anything you expected, earning a lewd, pornish moan from your drooling lips. You extended one of your arms out in front of you and scratched at the floor, letting your head rest against the other while your lidded eyes stared at the wood as you began to see blurs.

This must be what fucking like rabbits meant; his body right up against your back, fast sharp thrusts straight into your cervix, and his white mask grazing your ear with every push forward that made you blank out.

With a raspy tone, the slasher's hot breath cascaded into your ear and caused goosebumps to travel down your back, "Do you think you can take all of your master's cum in that tight little pussy?"

Your words slurred into nothing but noise, too fucked out to even respond as your mind focused on how his dick twitched inside of you and dragged against your insides.

Noticing your dumbed out state, the ghostface let out a sickening laugh, "Did master fuck you dumb, doll?! Isn't that a shame - now my little bitch in heat can't help but pay attention to the way my thick cock is breeding you stupid!"

The grip on your hips tightened, making your future self thankful he was wearing gloves to prevent his nails from cutting into your flesh, "I wonder how much longer you can last.. Let's hope all that endurance training didn't go to waste, pretty girl!"

You felt the knot in your stomach tighten quickly, the head of his cock pushing you further and further over the edge. You definitely weren't gonna last much longer with how he was fucking you straight into oblivion.

His hands slammed their way down to either side of your head, stabilizing his twitching form as he felt his own end drawing near with how his balls clenched and cock quivered.

"Puppy, " He moaned out, "I'm getting fucking close- shit- and I'm gonna let your pussy milk me dry like the good breeding bitch you are.."

"What do you say to your generous master?"

You managed to spit out just a few words, gazing back at his mask through your lashes, "Thank you, master!"

Unexpectedly, the father death killer moved his mask just so his lips and nose were revealed, not giving you time to process it, before slamming you into a sloppy kiss. That did it for you, a silenced moan getting swallowed by his mouth as your orgasm ripped through your cunt and forced your legs to shake violently.

Through the kiss, your teary eyes opened up to look at his lips while talking slurred, "Ma.. ster.."

With his tongue licking at yours, he spoke through your intimacy, "Just this once, doll- mmph..- You can call me Danny."

Like in a daze, you repeated his name, "Danny.."

He let out a loud purr, an intense shiver rolling down his back as he savored how his name fell from your plumping lips. With a few violent thrusts, he let out a choppy groan as his dick released rope after rope of his hot semen straight into your womb, pressing his tip right up against your cervix. You shuddered from the sensation of his warm milk spilling into your sex, the overstimulation drawing out a quiet mewl from your broken throat.

He pushed his seed further into your quivering pussy with a few slow thrusts, mumbling incoherent nonsense as bliss clouded his mind for just that moment. You stared at the wall ahead of you as you let his body rest on your back, feeling your tail press against your back from his weight and tug at your plug.

When he finally regained his senses, Danny slowly sat up and felt a great shiver run through his system when a wet sensation ran down his exposed balls. He looked down, and immediately his dick hardened at the sight; you creamed on his cock, and it was leaking out of you and all over his sack. He watched as his load began to squish out of the edges of your pussy and mix with your release, making a mess of him and your thighs. Now that he could finally focus, he swiftly grabbed his camera and aimed it at your leakage, adding a bit more to the capture by grabbing your tail and lifting up so your plugged ass was also on display against his length

"Fucking perfect, my little puppy girl.. Absolutely perfect."

Danny's gloved hand was tangled in your locks as he threw his head back against your couch, pushing your mouth further down his dick as you bobbed your head. You wore a different set of pet wear this time, it being white bunny ears and a cute little bunny butt plug that peeked out from under your short, innocent dress.

"Fu-ck, baby.. I should've bought you those bunny things a while ago if I knew I'd come home to this."

Danny picked his head back up to watch your lips take in his cock, the sight causing a possessive growl to snarl from his throat. It stopped, however, when the news flashed on the TV, and a picture of a ditch popping up next to the reporter.

"This just in, the body of Harry McCarthy turned up in the ditches by South Rocky Street, different parts of his body strung up around the surrounding botany. His body looks to be two to four days old, a single picture being left at the scene of The Ghostface posing with the corpse, knife in-hand.."

The grin that found it's way on his face was wicked and dark - Finally found the body, huh? Took you long enough, P.D. His eyes flashed with proud insanity, noticing that you kept sucking on his length despite the news.

Danny let out a deep laugh, "Did you hear that, dollface? They found your boyfriend's- well.. ex-boyfriend's, body in a ditch somewhere. No wonder he hasn't been coming home for such a long time."

You could only gaze up at the deranged psycho with love as you continued to drool all over his sex. He fucking swore he saw little hearts in your eyes, and this made him laugh all the more harder at your state. You couldn't care less that your boyfriend was dead, you just wanted Danny.

With the rise of his camera, the ghostface brought it up to his eyes and placed his finger on the button, "Smile for me."

#dbd #dead by daylight #deadbydaylight #video games #videogames #games #gaming #danny johnson #jed olsen #killers #dbd ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #drabble #smut #danny jed olsen johnson #created by rabbittwist

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