Jed Olsen X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Chase

In the heart-pounding realm of the Entity, where every moment is fraught with danger and fear, (Y/N) found themselves trapped in a nightmarish chase with Ghostface, the embodiment of terror itself. But what made this chase all the more complicated was (Y/N)'s conflicting emotions—they had a crush on Ghostface, despite the imminent threat to their life.

It began like any other match, with (Y/N) finding themselves transported to the eerie realm known as the MacMillan Estate. The fog was thick, obscuring vision, and the sound of a heartbeat thudded ominously in their ears. They knew they were not alone.

As they cautiously moved through the desolate landscape, trying to evade the killer's gaze, they couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching them. And indeed, they were right. Ghostface, with his iconic mask and chilling presence, was stalking them, his knife glinting in the moonlight.

But strangely, amidst the fear, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement whenever Ghostface drew near. Perhaps it was the adrenaline of the chase or the forbidden allure of danger, but (Y/N)'s heart raced for reasons beyond mere survival.

As the chase intensified, with (Y/N) narrowly dodging Ghostface's swings and vaulting over obstacles, they found themselves drawn deeper into the twisted game of cat and mouse. But with each close encounter, (Y/N) couldn't ignore the undeniable chemistry between them and Ghostface, even amidst the terror.

Despite their feelings, (Y/N) knew they had to survive. They had to escape this relentless pursuer. With every ounce of strength and cunning they possessed, they devised a plan. They led Ghostface on a wild chase through the Estate, ducking and weaving through the labyrinthine structures, until finally, they found themselves at the exit gates.

But just as victory seemed within reach, Ghostface appeared once more, blocking their path. For a moment, (Y/N) froze, torn between fear and desire. But then, with a surge of determination, they made their move.

With a swift and daring maneuver, (Y/N) managed to outmaneuver Ghostface, slipping past him and through the open gate to freedom. As they sprinted into the darkness, heart pounding and adrenaline coursing through their veins, they couldn't help but steal a glance back at Ghostface.

And in that moment, amidst the chaos and danger, (Y/N) saw something unexpected in Ghostface's eyes—perhaps a hint of admiration, or even something more. But there was no time to dwell on it, as they disappeared into the night, leaving behind the enigmatic killer they couldn't help but be drawn to.

A/N: Hello everyone! I tried something different today - thats right, i used a gender neutral reader instead of a female one. I hope yall like it and let me know if yall want more of gender neutral reader!

Ghostface/Reader - Haunted House

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings/Description: NSFW, Gender-neutral Reader, Mostly a flimsy excuse for horror smut, Explicit Language, Mirrors, Blood/gore mention, Dub-con, Fearplay, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Possessiveness, Yandere, Overstimulation, Penetration (receiving), Name Calling/Degradation, DBD Ghostboi

-

The broom hits you in the chest with more force than necessary, and when you take it in hand you rub the sore spot it left behind while glaring quietly at your pissant of a boss.

He shoves a finger against your sternum, uncaring of the wince you let out in response, and huffs, “I better not see your sorry ass until the whole place is swept through twice, or I swear to god you’re fired. This is your very last chance.”

You want to roll your eyes, but you manage to keep yourself in check, “I’m sorry, Mr. Romano, I’m a little sick and I overslept-”

“Last chance,” he interrupts, eyes narrowing as he steps away, running a chubby hand through his thinning red hair, “Make sure you lock the place up before you leave. You can get your check after you return the keys.”

You frown at the back of his head as he retreats through the cornfield leading out to the first half of the attraction and the main staff lounge. You flip him off when he’s far enough, and make a few dumb faces while your at it. What a jerk. 

You sniff and rub your nose on your sleeve. God, you still can’t smell anything and your head is throbbing. You really shouldn’t even be out here. Yeah, you were late by a couple of hours, but it’s not like you wanted to get sick and leave your co-workers high and dry on one of the busiest weekends of the year.

Halloween is just around the corner, and in the scary attractions business, there’s really no better time to make money. And you really need the money.

With a sigh, you turn towards the haunted house and prepare for the worst.

It’s a two story building, and you have no idea how that asshole expects you to sweep it all by yourself on a normal day, let alone on the half-juiced battery you’re running on now, but you count your lucky stars that’s all he asked you to do instead of insisting on something dumber like resetting all the props, or whatever. At least with sweeping you can lie about it. Who’s really gonna know? The place is usually dark, anyway.

As you walk in, you’re immediately spooked by a Ghostface who set themselves up directly in front of the door, nearly blocking you from entering. You immediately assume it’s one of your co-workers trying to get you back for skipping out of them, and scoff quietly to yourself, “Ha-ha, very funny, dude…”

But of course, no one laughs, not even you.

Your co-worker tilts their head to the side, eyeing you casually, but before they can do so much as respond, you breeze past them with another wispy sigh. You don’t have time for stupid games. You just want to disappear in the back for a few hours and go home.

You don’t notice the way the Ghostface stares after you, or how their knife glints a little too brightly for a plastic prop.

Keep reading

A Blurry Photo

Picture Perfect | Aftermath of Picture Perfect Headcanons | Smile For Me

Warnings: Manipulation, Slight non-con

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: I’m gonna do a part 4 with the pregnancy so keep an eyes on that ;P

He watches you, edging closer to the bubble you’ve created around yourself. The way you make sure that not a single thing of yours touches someone or something and that not a single thing that isn’t familiar touches you. He can walk close to you- enough to see the red lines around your neck and he salivates, spit pooling in his mouth. As perceptive as you are, you don’t seem to notice him. There’s something deeper inside of him now. It isn’t lust that he feels for you. It’s deeper than that, something more, something that makes his chest ache, that makes him want to do something idiotic and he does. It’s daylight, the sun is out and you’re safe. Eyes and hands will stop from any crime being committed upon such a sinful, innocent person. It’s easy for him- everything is when it comes to you- all he has to do is reach into your pocket and slip out your phone, he’s sure someone has caught him in the act, but no one says a thing. Slender fingers tap against your shoulder and you jump and you look at him with wide, tearful eyes and there’s a shock that shoots straight to his crotch, awakening his flaccid member.

“I’m sorry to startle you, miss, but it seems like you dropped your phone.” He holds the phone, hands large and imposing, covering all of the device, knowing you’ll have to touch him to retrieve it.

You look down at it and then back to him and his smile never wavers. “I- Thank you-”

“Danny.” You were never going to ask his name, he knows that. You’re too scared to do anything like that. “You can call me Danny.” He smiles sweetly at you and he has to bite the inside of his cheeks to stop the growing smile when you fingertips touch against his fingers.

You clear your throat, a forced smile making its way onto your lips and while he knows that it makes sense, he can’t help but feel anger at the expression given to him. “Thank you, Danny.” You pull on the phone, holding it tightly in your hands. “I uh- I hadn’t noticed it fell so thank you.” Your foot turns, ready to turn your body and he pushes forward, so desperate to continue talking to you.

“You uh-” his voice cracks and he clears his throat, walking beside you- “You seem a bit stressed, everything okay?” You glance at him through the corner of your eye and he can only give you a practiced nervous smile. “I really don’t mean to pry-”

“Then don’t,” you cut him off, hurrying your steps. “I’m fine. Thank you for picking up my phone but I have to get going.”

The corners of his lips pull downwards. Fury hammers at him, his hands curling and brows furrowing. “Listen, I’m just trying to say that you seem a bit stressed. Are you sure you’re okay? I work for the news and I know there have been a number of break ins-” that word causes you to flinch- “and I don’t want to leave you scared during this difficult time.” He makes sure to stumble in his footsteps when you turn a corner, jogging slightly to catch up to you, hands pushed into his pockets. “You’re shaking, you know?”

You falter in your steps and he has to refrain himself from smiling. “You’re being sweet and I- I appreciate it but really, I’m fine.”

“How about we go get some tea?” You turn to look at him and he considers it progress. “I think coffee might do you something bad, so tea sounds nice, right? Have you had bubble tea before?” Your eyes light up and his smile turns softer. “I’ll pay. Listen, I’m not trying to do anything weird, I just wanna make you’re okay before you go back home. I know a scared face when I see one.” You just need a little push and he can provide that. He stands in front of you and the tip of your sneaker nips at his, and holds his hand out to you, unblemished and giving. “Would you like to go get bubble tea with me?” Your hand twitch, fingers curling to place themselves against his only to pull away and he’s sure that if he hadn’t ruined you, you would have touched him. You nod your head, your answer a soft whisper and tears welling in your eyes and he does not comment, only smiles and holds your hand. “Great. I know the perfect place.” You’re already so broken, all he has to do is show you a bit of kindness and he can fix you.

-

You are curled up against Danny under a thick blanket, hands interlaced as you both watch the news, the tone somber as the woman recounts the latest murder. Your thumb rubs against his knuckles, the room quiet. It takes all his might to avoid looking down and seeing your reaction. He can remember the murder quite well. He’s just surprised it took them so long to find the body. It wasn’t as if he had hidden it but he must have mistaken the kindness for people to check up on others. He mistakes the kindness that you have for others. It was something that happened, a pull on his heartstrings with the time he has spent with you.

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” Your thumb stops its melodic rhythm. “All the murders. I man, it’s just one guy and they can’t even seem to find him.” You laugh and it’s bitter, empty and makes a shiver run down his spine. “You- You go there, right? To take photos and stuff?”

“Yeah,” he responds, reaching over to grab the remote, holding his hand over the pause button, waiting for the right moment to hit it. “I get a few things, nothing ever tramuzitng, by the time I arrive the body is gone and there are markers all over.” A still image of Ghostface appears, he’s frozen in time, a hand raised with fingers curled in a mock greeting with the knife raised. He can feel your body stiffen, the small breath of air that is sucked into your body and the way your nails dig into his skin. “I’m safe, you know. I’m not leaving you anytime soon. Plus-” he turns his hands over, grabbing yours roughly- “the murderer never returns to the scene of the crime.”

“I just-” your voice shakes and he wonders if you’re going to tell him the details of your encounters with him- “I worry.” He frowns. It seems like you won’t.

It’s his fault, of course. He’s ruined your trust in people, invaded every aspect of himself into you, has felt your body as you cried and he was so sure that the last time he was here- which at this point was months ago- that he had gotten you pregnant and yet here you are with a regular period and consuming what you want without worry. But he can’t give up hope- you let him have a key to your place, you spend the nights with him or vice versa, you kiss him against the lips, breath shaky and hands gripping onto his shirt like it's a lifeline while it is a peck, he has to rush somewhere hidden to fist his cock in his hand and think of the way you’d be so giving and so fearful to him. It’s like you’re teasing him on purpose.

“Look at me?” He asks, already grabbing your body and turning you over. You look at him, your tongue peeking out to wet your lips, eyes wide legs straddling him, your clothed cunt pressed against his crotch and if he closes his eyes he can imagine the smell of it. His hands cup your face, encasing you and forcing you to look at him as the image of Ghostface is frozen on screen. “I’m going to be okay. No silly murderer who hides his face is going to get me. After all,” he smiles, leaning close to you, “I’m just a photographer. It’s not like I know anything.” He presses his lips against you, your words muffled against his tongue.

His hands slip down your face and onto the curve of your neck. He can feel your body stiffen, the soft murmur of his name on your lips, the way you latch onto his shirt and tug on it, scratching your nails against the soft cotton. His hands lower, hands slipping down over the curve of your chest, your legs instinctively trying to squeeze together, only to rest against your stomach. A hand curves to your back, sliding under your shirt where his fingertips tap lightly against your bare back. His other hand slips under the front side of your shirt, trailing above, fingers ghosting over the soft curve of your stomach until he reaches the band of your bra, his hand cupping a breast and your hands on him go flat, a feeble attempt to push him away as his hand pulls down your cup, exposing your breast, a hardened nipple poking against the palm of his hand. Danny wonders how close he can get until you really try to get him off of you- until you’re crying and hitting against his body, until all the small progress that you’ve made with him can be broken once again.

He tries to restrain himself, to hold back any of his primal urges to claw at your skin, to mark you until you’re sobbing against him. The most he allows himself to do is pinch at your nipple which makes you whimper against him, your hands now clawing at his chest and he can pretend for a second that you want this as well, trick himself that you’re gentle shoves that grind yourself against him are on purpose. He’s gasping against your mouth, pushing himself close to you, spit dribbling past the corners of both mouths. His fingers are pinched against your nipple, pulling taut on it and twisting it until your body goes rigid and he can hear a cry of pain muffled by the wretched kiss he’s placed onto you.

It isn't until you bite against his lip that he lets go. He curses, bringing a hand up to cusp the wounded piece of flesh that burns. Other than the small curse that leaves his lips, he’s calm, cupping his clothed mouth allowing for the blood to pool and fill his mouth with poison. You, on the other hand, are a mess. You’re entangled in the blankets, kicking them off, crying and sniveling, trying to fix where he’s touched only to start sobbing when you mimic where he had just touched you.

“You know, if you wanted to bite, you have to be a bit gentler than that,” he tries to joke, letting his tongue graze over the wound, blood spilling onto the flat of his tongue, filling his mouth with copper.

His fingertips touch against his lip, a thin, shining blood on his finger pad, staining him in his natural color. His eyes glisten, fingers still as he stares in fascination. His mind is fuzzy, static stuffed inside as the room is filled with a high-pitched noise, eyes never wanting to look away from the blood on his fingers- from his own blood. He never took you for the type to fight back. He meets your eyes- cruel, wicked eyes that meet fearful ones, ones that are rimmed red and look upon him with the same look that you gave him many nights before when he’s invaded your home. His fingers curl, the palm of his hand dotted with the same blood that had been spilled by you.

“I- I told you to stop,” you hiss, grabbing fistfuls of the blanket until they’re spilling from your hand, bringing the bundled bunch to your chest, where it rises and dips with such exaggeration. “I didn’t want to.” He tilts his head, his nails digging into his palm. You keep your gaze on him, never faltering, never looking anywhere else. “I’m-” more tears well in your eyes, voice cracking and a shiver runs through his body- “I’m sorry, Danny.”

With a sudden switch, he’s snapped back into reality. His smile is warm, gentle even, as he opens his arms and welcomes you inside, staining your bicep with his blood as your sob into his chest. He smiles, his fingers dancing along your spine in a spindly dance. You clutch onto him and he shushes you gently, letting you apologize and cry as he watches, so desperate for you to know edge closer to him and feel him poke against you, so perverted to have you never find out how your tears excite him more.

He moves slightly, a soft press of his chest against your body, and you collapse further into him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pressing against him, no doubt feeling him and you remain silent save for your sobbing. You refuse to say a single word about your disastrous meetings with Ghostface, even as he stares right at you through the television screen. You don’t speak ill of the monster who holds you in his arms. You hold the monster tight, finding comfort until your sobs have turned into hiccups and whimpers, until you’re kissing against his bitten lip, your lips shining with a thinned blood that appears almost pink on your lips.

“I didn’t mean to push you so much,” he says, his hand flat on your back. “I just thought we had been dating for so long and well-” he sighs, pressing his lips against the crown of your head- “I didn’t mean to push you. There’s no excuse for that.” He moves, squirming under you and you rise, looking at him with

“I just- I don’t have the best record with relationships.” He can feel your hesitation, the way your body tenses and the clawing against his shirt. “I don’t want to get into it,” you finalize, doing your best to not look at the screen where the image remains still, never moving and always taunting you. You pull yourself away from him, standing with your back faced towards the killer and he watches, eyes darting to the door where you begin your descent, his hand barely missing yours when he reaches to hold it. “I’m going to go home.” You turn to look at him, your mouth pulled into a straight line. “I’ll uh-” you stop midway, cutting yourself off as you lower yourself to the ground, adjusting your shoes and tightening the laces. Your hand wraps around the door knob, the humid air outside making you freeze, his eyes never leaving your retreating figure. “I’ll see you later, okay?” You look at him, a tense smile stretched on your face, as you give him a short wave goodbye. The door closes behind you and he collapses onto the couch, hand unzipping his pants and wrapping around his throbbing member, hissing at the contact.

Picture Perfect

Warnings: Non-Con, Somnophilia Word Count: 3.5K A/N: Help, I’ve fallen in love with Ghostface (you can have all the flavor you want, somno is god tier for me(っ´Ι`)っ)

He knows your schedule. He knows what you wear and what time you go to sleep. He’s broken in enough times to test just how much of a deep sleeper you are. He’s called your name, grabbed at a limp arm and held it above your sleeping body only to watch as it fell back onto the mattress with a thump. He learned long ago that he doesn’t need to be careful with you. As long as he didn’t shout, you’d sleep, you wouldn’t wake up if hands reached out to touch your face, if the plastic, rubbery feel of the mask pressed against your face and gave you a mock kiss. There’s still hesitation in him, however. He still stills when you whimper in your sleep, when your brows pinch and you shirt in bed, your body curling into itself, as you clutch the blanket in your hands. And now, when you sleep, cradled on your side, he frowns. You’ve been sleeping on your back for such a long time, why had you decided to change your patterns? Could you have known that he was coming tonight? That you could have felt that something bad was going to happen? No, you couldn’t have known. You’re sure that something has been different in your life- he’s seen how you check that everything is secured, how you make sure that not a single thing is moved out of place when you come back from a day out- but you’re not as smart as he is. He knows what to do. He’s stalked and preyed upon countless people. You may be different from the rest- a sweet, innocent thing that must be protected- but you are still prey. You don’t know that the danger is inside your home, watching you in your most intimate moments.

He stands beside your bed, head tilted and there’s a knife on your nightstand. He’s made sure that it’s new, free from anyone else’s blood. He might not want to use it, but if you happen to awaken, he knows that you’ll comply at the stare of his weapon. His face burns when he finds himself salivating at the thought of you covered in blood- your body shaking, blood dripping from your mouth and dripping onto your chest, a scared look in your eyes as he stands above you. The inside of his mask grows hot, he can feel his face grow slick with sweat as his hands, grab the edge of your blanket and pull it off your body. He is clothed in black, the only color against him is the white of his mask. Danny Johnson, the renowned Ghostface, wears boots that have been meticulously cleaned, any stray blood or dirt removed long ago, the white of his mask, clean and pristine, smelling of disinfectant and the eyes that lay underneath look down at you in a love that is sickening.

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[Yandere! Dead By Daylight x Reader]

Summary: You are a mystery to both the survivors and killers within the fog. A servant of darkness, a creature created by the entity itself, you are the shadow behind the scenes that provides the survivors with the necessities they need to survive, while also assisting killers with the weapons they need to sacrifice. You are a servant void of humanity, but not one that seeks out despair. An empty slate that perhaps just needs to be taught a little bit of hope and empathy to help the survivors escape once and for all.

Eight. Thrilling Tremors

Danny has always loved the horror genre.

Ever since he was a child, his father would tell him real life horror stories. Those stories of a cat chasing a mouse. A predator hunting down prey. It was all the same stories that ended with a field of bloodshed and a victor that would rise above it all…and Danny was absolutely fascinated with each thrilling tale.

Mutilated bodies would engrave itself into his mind. Haunting scenes with vivid details would replay in his head like a broken flickering filmstrip. From the creepy music to the dramatic pauses, Danny would find his heart pounding in his chest with a wide smile curving on his lips as he became enamored with each piece of horror media he consumed.

However, the exhilaration of facing the unknown, the details from the unsettling sounds to the tense atmosphere— none of those things were his favorite part. And for a while, Danny actually wasn’t sure what he loved so much about the genre. He knew he loved true horror. The real stories of monsters that lurk in the night. The real boogeyman that blends into society. He was captivated by true, raw horror. 

So, that begged the question, was he simply just entertained by the reality of human nature? Did he just enjoy seeing how ‘civilized’ people would react to the real demons that ran around with the same blood that they bled? 

Or, did he simply love horror because it fed into his own bloodlust?

When Danny brought his first horror story to life, he knew he had found the answer. Although his first design was sloppy, it was still created with passion that was driven by instinct, and that was when Danny had come to a realization. 

Humans are animals. They are destructive by nature. As intelligent and ‘evolved’ as they may be, Danny knew that all humans have primal instincts, and those instincts were bloody and chaotic. Some may deny it, but Danny knew the truth. And if he was going to accept his human nature as a whole, he may as well be creative with it.

So, Danny went on with his life, loving every second of it. He loved existing as a human. He loved having the ability to create. And most of all, he loved creating real life horror stories. Obviously, his passion is looked down upon. But that doesn’t stop him. If anything, Danny was glad that the playing field was so small. It made it easier for his work to stick out, and it made his stories even scarier.

However, as much as Danny adored bringing terror to the public, he always had to be cautious of his work. His designs needed to be perfect. Any flaw could wind him up in the electric chair. So, even if he loved sharing his stories, Danny would often feel dread when he would have to lay low under the radar. After completing each design, Danny would have to stop his work for a while, and that often gave him an uncomfortable itch that would sometimes leave him wishing he could freely create his stories without feeling the burden of the consequences.

It was simply just wishful thinking during those impatient times, but unknown to Danny, his wishes would be heard.

So, one could only imagine the delight he felt the moment he was wrapped around in a fog, a darkness consuming him until his eyes met the flickering red and orange flame of a campfire where an other-worldly being had suddenly emerged. Stepping in front of him from beyond a black fog, you had gazed down at Danny with empty, soulless [eye color] eyes as you introduced him to a realm of nightmares. 

And Danny was absolutely ecstatic to be there.

Like an artist given his own studio with an endless supply of paints and canvas, Danny was given the opportunity to perfect as many designs as he desired. And so, he would carry on like that in the realm. Danny would create different horror stories for all the survivors on every single map. He even learned to adapt his designs so they would come out flawless! 

It was fun for a while, but then…Danny got bored.

Don’t get him mistaken though. He still loved creating his designs, but he craved for something more. He needed a bigger project. Something that would give him a challenge. Something that would be his Mona Lisa. 

And then, there was you. 

The very first being that Danny had met in the realm. The very first being that Danny knew was on a completely different scale from him. You were something that looked human, but you weren’t. You were something extraordinary. And you were the first being that would become Danny’s new passion project— his muse, if you will.

Thus, leaving Danny to where he is now. 

One of his arms wrapped around your torso, fingers clenched around the fabric of your blazer as he dug into your waist. His other hand was wrapped around your arm and chest, leveling his blade up to your eyes. A smile curved on his lips from behind his mask as he gazed at your reflection in the knife. You were completely unfazed, just as he expected.

“Did I get you this time?” He asked in a hush, observing every feature of your face.

You stared into your own reflection, your eyes moving from your own empty stare before flickering over to the killer behind you. Although you couldn’t see him, Danny could practically feel your eyes bore into him as if he weren’t even wearing a mask to begin with.

“No. I knew you were approaching three minutes ago.” You responded, monotone as ever as you kept your expression stoic.

Danny wasn’t surprised by this, but your response did intrigue him. He had been stalking you earlier, and his interest was piqued when he saw you very subtly reaching out for the flames, so he knew that something was going on in your mind. Just what exactly was it?

Raising a brow, the male tilted his head, “That’s two minutes off from usual.” His voice rasped out. Gripping your torso tighter, Danny brought the blade to your neck and traced the sharp edge over your skin. His eyes focused on your reaction. “What’s on your mind?”

“Is this your question for our game?” You instead inquired, causing Danny to pause in thought.

Right.

Ever since Danny has made you his muse, he took it upon himself to learn everything about you so he could create the perfect design. After all, his first attempt didn’t go exactly as planned… so, he tried a new method— he made it a game between the two of you. He will be merciless in trials, and in exchange, he gets to ask you questions about yourself. 

Obviously, you accepted those terms. And so, he began with the obvious. 

“What is your name?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Where did you come from?”

“My creator.”

“Who is your creator?”

“The entity.”

“Why did she create you?”

“To serve.”

You were honest, but dry. He wasn’t sure if you were just clever to be wary of him, or if you truly couldn’t comprehend anything other than to follow orders. Regardless, Danny didn’t like that you gave him the obvious answers. You weren’t playing fair. Why should he be merciless in trials for you if you were just going to give him the copy and paste answers that you gave to every other killer and survivor?

So, he had to try something else.

He needed to dig deeper. More personal. He needed just a sliver of space that he could crawl his way into so he could witness just a glimpse into your mind. So far he had been asking all of the practical stuff, and up till now that’s gotten him nowhere since the start of his passion project. Not as if he was in any rush to start his design, of course. Danny is quite a patient man by nature, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t getting annoyed by how bland you were being with him. 

Looking over your empty stare, Danny took a moment to study you. 

Danny is a people person. So he knew how to read people no matter the poker face, and you were no exception. Memorizing every detail of your features, the man could say with confidence that he could probably draw your face from memory. From the patterns in your irises, to any subtle wrinkle on your face. Danny had learned how to read your face. It was just getting you to change just the smallest detail that was the issue.

He needed you to open up. But how?

With his knife held tightly in his hand, Danny let out low, quiet breaths until finally he made a decision.

“Yeah,” he finally chuckled out, “This is my question for our game. What is on your mind right now?”

You still hadn’t moved, but your eyes did briefly glance over the masked killer once more before setting your stare to the fire in front of you where the flames highlighted your [skin tone] skin in a golden hue. 

“I’ve come to realize that I’ve long forgotten what ‘warmth’ feels like.” You spoke, a sort of interest lined within your words. 

This caught Danny’s attention. 

For as long as he’s studied you, he has not once heard or seen you show any kind of interest other than your assigned tasks. So having witnessed your fingers brushing over the campfire, and hearing the very subtle change in your tone, it hooked him in.

“I didn’t even realize you knew what that felt like.” He spoke, keeping a steady grip on his knife. “I thought you said you couldn’t feel anything.”

You took note of his slight change of demeanor, but you remained impassive as you hummed in response.

“Yes, well, I have felt cold before and I have felt warmth before, but it was a long while back.” You paused for a moment, “perhaps a few eons ago.”

“Oh?” Danny perked up, his blade ever so slightly pressing against your skin. His heart was beating quickly with excitement now that he seemed to finally be getting somewhere with you.

“And what might’ve made you lose your senses?” He asked, and for once in a very long time, Danny’s pupils dilated the moment he saw the faintest flicker of emotion appear in your eyes. 

Those usually vacant pools of [eye color]— they widened a bit. The colors brightened and he could see the crinkle at the very corner of your eyes shift from a misty void to a clear display of loss.

“I’m..unsure.”

Your voice, usually crisp and clear, seemed to have wavered a bit, leaving Danny with his heart pounding against his chest.

There. There it was.

He wasn’t sure if he was imagining the whole thing, but he swore for the first time that he saw a moment of weakness.

Danny hadn’t meant to do it. But he couldn’t help it. He pressed his knife hard against your skin. He felt a rush of adrenaline as he pressed the blade into your neck and pierce into your flesh.

He could see the blood trickle down your skin. That deep maroon color dribbling down your clear [skin tone] collarbone and staining your white dress shirt. He could practically smell the iron that stained his blade as he continued to press his knife deeper and deeper before twisting the handle and tearing it across your neck, practically decapitating your head from the rest of your body. 

Holding onto your torso tighter, Danny closed his eyes and savored the sounds of the quiet forest air that was filled with music from your choked gurgles.

Except… that wasn’t what happened.

For the moment his knife pressed into your neck, the blade instantly shattered.

Just like his first attempt on your life, any weapon that would try and penetrate your skin would instantly break like glass. 

Danny watched in stupor as shards of his blade fell into little bits and pieces onto the foggy ground. He was still in a daze, but much like his fallen knife, his illusion was shattered and left him standing behind you with his heart racing and mind numb from exhilaration. 

A long and heavy pause would ring in the forest air. Nothing but the sound of fire crackling would be heard as the two of you stood in silence.

While the killer was coming down from his high, you, on the other hand, stood there unconcerned. If anything, you had foreseen this coming from the moment The Ghostface tried to kill you the first time he brought a blade to your chest. You just figured he would try a different strategy since he wasn’t as bloodthirsty and adamant as The Shape. 

With your vision still fixated on the fire, you briefly moved your attention to the shattered blade on the ground before quickly looking back at the fire. Your body was still in the hands of Ghostface, granted his hold on you had loosened up, but you still kept yourself still as you looked over your shoulder to meet the masked killer’s eyes.

“It seems that you’ve accidentally shattered your knife again.” You commented, finally snapping Danny back to reality. 

Letting his arms fall to his side, Danny took a step back. He was pissed. He was so fucking angry that he didn’t get to actually tear into your throat. He didn’t actually get to experience seeing you bleed and die in his arms. 

However, as Danny stood silently behind you, from behind his mask, the man was practically glowing with joy. A smile was on his face as a breathless chuckle left his lips.

He was also very relieved. 

This is why you were his Mona Lisa. This is why he picked you to begin with. He was so glad you were going to be a challenge. If he had actually killed you, Danny was sure he’d make sure your body would rot from where you stood. But no. Danny was smart. There was a reason he chose you instead of one of the other survivors or killers in the realm. 

Letting out an airy laugh, Danny brought a hand to his head and ruffled his black hair from under his hood. 

He knew he made the right decision in choosing you.

While Danny laughed to himself, you simply stood there and observed. 

Humans, they were so odd. 

You know the sound he was making was that of laughter. You may not understand human nature, but you knew enough to realize that he was showing signs of amusement. You just couldn’t understand from what.

Once Danny settled down, the male finally looked over at you with a tilt of his head.

“This is why you’re my muse.” He commented with a sigh, and walked over to your side.

You couldn’t quite wrap your head around his interesting choice of words, but you didn’t get to dwell on it when he brought a hand to your shoulder. With his attention on his knife, Danny tilted his head in your direction.

“Do you mind?”

You blinked, “Mind?”

He smiled, “Fixing my knife. Can you work your magic again, sweetheart?”

“Oh.” Your eyes then flickered back to the blade broken into pieces on the ground at your feet. “Of course.”

Crouching down, you grabbed the handle of the knife and the biggest part of the blade. With your eyes glowing a [eye color] hue, a fog of black with golden particles floated into your hands and covered the broken pieces.

Danny watched in awe as his once shattered blade came back brand new. 

Again, he was practically grinning from ear to ear as he found that he was going to create the perfect design all for you. He was already buzzing with excitement just to see more of you. Whether you had or hadn’t actually expressed something earlier, Danny knew that either way you were already destined to be killed by his hands, and he was going to make sure that your death was going to be flawless.

Standing back up, you presented the knife to the killer, “Here you go.”

Carefully, Danny took the knife and twirled it in his hand. 

“Good as new,” he breathed out while practicing his jabs into the open air. With a smile, Danny pocketed the knife before turning his attention to you. “Thank you. Hope that didn’t take a lot out of you.”

You shook your head, “Not at all. If you need any more repairs to any of your weapons, I am here to assist.”

“Right, right. I’ll remember that,” Danny expressed lamely, before bringing a hand to his pocket. Still having his blood pumping vigorously through his veins, the male was nearly itching to start his trial. So digging into his pocket, Danny brought out three items: a chewed up pen, his old driver’s license, and originally he planned on taking out a shiny broken coin, but after the illusion of killing you, the killer was just driven by his murderous instincts to kill by his own hands.

So instead, the male brought out a bag. Opening up the small coin bag, Danny took a quick peek at the glowing red triangles and brought it over to you. 

“Do you think I can buy an offering?”

Your eyes not once wavered from his mask as you took his bag. With your eyes briefly flickering down to scan the bag, you kept your voice firm upon returning your attention to him, “What would you like?”

Danny’s eyes were feral and bloodshot. His smile was hurting his cheeks as he already began plotting his next few designs. He may not have been able to kill you today, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be able to create a horror story at all.

So with his head tilting playfully, Danny let out a raspy, shuddered breath. 

“I want a memento mori.”

You nodded. And again, the crawling mist all around the two of you swirled with life. It was comical to Danny. Because while a human skull was formed within your hands, the air around reeked of rotting death.

Breathing in the fog, Danny closed his eyes and relished in the silence of the blowing wind that moved the black mist. If he listened closely, Danny swore that he could hear ghastly whispers move with the rustling forest leaves.

Then, it was silent once more.

Opening his eyes, Danny turned his attention to you. He watched as you stared back into the campfire. With the glow of the fire highlighting your features, Danny took note of your expression.

He couldn’t read you again. You were as emotionless as a doll. Simply standing there with a pretty, flawless mask.

Flickering his attention from your side profile and back down to the skull in your open palms, Danny silently took the skull from your hands and tossed his pen, license, and skull into the campfire where the flames burst with life and shrilled a loud shrieks before returning to crackles. 

As Danny stood next to you at the campfire, the male kept his attention straight at the dancing fire. He wanted to get the trial started as soon as possible, while he was still in a pleasant mood.

Ohhh would you be okay with doing a Male reader x Danny Ghostface? sfw or nsfw!

And for (optional of course!) prompts maybe outside the entity realm where the reader knows jed before finding out about ghostface? if you feel up to it i feel a little bit of held at knife-point might be cool!

(i am so sorry if this sent more then once the app glitched and closed a few times and the ask disappeared so i dont know what happened so i also had to rewrite it everytime so it sounds so awkward now :') )

I'm quite the simp for ghostface myself, so I'm gunna have fun with this, I'm so gay for Danny 🤭))

Headlines of Desire

Ghostface (Danny Johnson) x reader

NSFW, minors DNI.

Warnings: knife play, caught at knife point, dubcon, he also has a temper (he has a really bad temper in my head, so I’ll make him one🤷🏽‍♂️)

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\/The story starts below \/

Jed Olsen was a name very familiar to you, mainly couse you worked with him, and was very friendly from the first thing said to each other. To say he made good impressions with everyone he worked with, well, that would be an understatement. You two seemed to speak more than he did with others. Even if he did talk quite often with others, you two just seemed to talk even more and get along. Having a friendly face and conversation seemed to make this work a lot more barely.

Speaking of work, not much long after he started working, 5 months to be exact, murders started to go around, and the both of you started to report on them. Sometimes, you'd even report on them together. But working with him since the murders started to go around, you noticed a change in him, a shift in demeanor. He seemed more restless, excited even. It made you suspicious, but you never pressed further couse what are the chances of someone you working with being something even close to s murderer?

You continue to report on the murders and such, and no one knew the killer, and the kills had no consistency in them, so it was hard to pinpoint. Just whoever it was, they seemed to have fun with it. At this point, it somewhat seemed hopeless on knowing who the killer was, but at the same time, sometimes it just takes a bit, and they slip up and get caught. Just the way this one would be cought would be quite unexpected.

One late night, you got home after working your long shift. Your home is a little generic, but it's a home nonetheless. You go into your bathroom, take a shower, then go to grt dressed. When you want to get dressed, you seem to have heard a noise. Figuring it was nothing you continued, but there it was again, another noise. You only seemed to be able to put on boxers before investing. That's when you were in for a surprise. A hand covered your mouth and a knife to the neck. "Don't scream Y/N," he chuckled lowly.

Obviously, you struggle and try to scream, only for him to have the tip of his knife get closer to your neck, the tip of it touching your skin. "Stop fucking struggling" he barked." You stop struggling soon enoughafter he snapped. All you could wonder is who and why in this moment.

"There you go, finally listening~" I chuckled. After a moment of danny thinking with carful consideration, he spoke, "You know, I've always liked you, so I'll give you a bit of a change here. Consider yourself a very, very lucky man." He said as he started to trail the knife from your neck to your chin, making your breath hitch. He lifted his hand off your mouth only a little, so you could respond, but not too far couse he wasn't afraid to shut you up again.

"One, since I like you so much, you could let me play with you a little while, or two, I end you and play with the lifeless body." He offered.

You weigh your options carefully before speaking. "Um, o-one." You stutter out, fearing your life and not wanting to die. "Now, that's what I like to hear. No struggling and an actual response out of you. You're being a good boy~. Now, how about we start this now, huh? There is no need to wait. Take off that belt of yours." He demanded, seeing if you'd listen.

You end up taking off your belt couse you didn't want anything to happen to you. "Good, good." Danny then took his free hand away from you but kept the knife in his right hand pointed at your neck. "Turn around," he said quickly, and you did as such. "On your knees and take off my pants," he damnds and again, you listened. When you took off his pants, you noticed he had nothing under. He trailed his knife up your cheek, causing a bit of blood. "Now suck." I look down at his length and then back at him with a hesitant expression. "Go on, do it," Danny urged. Still hesitant, you don't do as you're told. He pressed the knife against your cheek harder "do as I fucking tell you" he said in a slightly angered tone. With that, you take his length into your mouth and start to suck while bobbing your head, still looking up at him with that hesitant look. Danny moaned softly, still having his knife to your cheek. "There you go, keep going~" he urged as he started to move his own hips a bit.

Eventually, Danny spoke once more, "up, and around, hands on to the wall behind you," he said as he did a twirling motion with his knife to motion you to turn around. You hesitantly turn and put your hands on the wall. He chuckled lowly, hand pulled down your pants, "You're doing so well~."

He positioned himself behind you, spreading your ass a bit before guiding himself inside all the way, making both of you groan, him from pleasure, you from the new sensation. He started to thrust moderately, placing his knife down your back as he did. He slid the knife down your back, causing you to whimper in pain.

It didn't take long for him to quick his pace a lot as he thrusted inside, letting out groans occasionally. "You're doing so good, being so fucking obedient." He spoke out in a slightly harsh voice. As he kept his knife on your back, he used the other to lean forward and grab ahold of your throat so he could go harder in. "That's it, take it," he said from behind the mask. You kept being obedient and took it, considering being at knife point and all.

This would go for several minutes, an hour or two even, before he could be satisfied, making himself cum twice inside your ass. You were definitely spent after being used as you did. He would pull out, putting on his pants and belt back on. He'd chuckle, slapping your cheek with the side of the knife slightly. "You did well, Y/N," he said, then walked to the window he had come in from the first place. He stood on the window cell and looked back, moving his mask a bit so you could see half his face. He winked, put his mask back on, and dipped. You stood there with your eyes wide, realizing who it actually was, The Ghostface, the man behind the mask. The man you worked with so long to catch the ghostface ended up being him. He was always someone you wanted, but not like this. After this, you never saw him again since you probably reported it, and he left the town of Roseville.

This is my first time making smut, but hopefully, it isn't completely crap. If i made any spelling or grammer mistakes, please tell. Hopfully, you enjoyed it enough))