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It was very much a don’t ask, don’t tell situation. It was easier that way for both of you, but that didn’t stop you from putting the pieces together on your own time. You knew something was amiss the first time you found a shirt soaked in blood on your bathroom floor, but it was gone when you went to look again a little while later. As if it had never been there in the first place. Things like that seemed to happen from time to time, and each time they did, another piece of the puzzle slid into place. It was still unclear on what exactly the picture of the puzzle was, but you had enough pieces to gather a semblance of an idea.
It left you unsettled. It made dozens of tiny knots form in your stomach, pulling uncomfortably till you felt like you might be sick. But then you thought of Danny and the way the corners of his lips would curl up in a smile, or how he looked sleeping with soft blonde curls obscuring his face. He looked so peaceful and vulnerable in those moments, and he allowed you to see that.
Danny allows you in past the walls that he had built up. He has a gaze that could make milk curdle but for you, it softened. He watched you with eyes that dripped with adoration. So you are in love with him, dark intent and all. Those soft eyes and sweet words that he reserved for you made your heart lurch in your chest as warmth bloomed. You had fallen long before you knew. Frankly, you weren’t sure if it was reciprocated, but a part of you thought it was. Verbal affirmations of it aside, you weren’t just another story on the news. That itself was telling enough but likely contingent on how your relationship played out.
Would one misplaced comment lead you to being just another name plastered all over headlines?
The night air around you is cold; it bites at your skin through the dark pullover you wore. The city feels oddly desolate, though you supposed it made sense for the time of night. The only thing around are the street lights overhead to keep you company, but even then, they provided little comfort when the hiss of the bulbs floated through the air.
The sound of your sneakers hitting the pavement echoed off the tall buildings towering over you. It makes you feel smaller than you were, like small prey trapped in the jaws of the concrete jungle around you. But what bothers you most was the way the hairs on the back of your neck rise with each step you take. It’s the unmistakable feeling of being watched. It makes your stomach twist and your stride quicken.
In the end, though, it doesn’t matter. After all, you are nothing but prey within the jaws of a predator. There isn’t enough time to process it; it comes quickly and silently like the billowing of smoke through the air. The hand around your throat is firm, glove clad fingers digging in just barely to your carotid artery as the sharp point of a blade pressed into your side, poking the space between your false ribs.
An ice cold chill shoots down your spine like lightning, each muscle within your body contracting. The breath in your lungs goes stagnant, and you can’t bring yourself to move. You stand there motionlessly, waiting for whatever comes next. You can’t even begin to think about what comes next, and you’re not sure you want to. Whatever it is, you pray it comes swiftly.
“Are you scared?” The voice is muffled, but you can still recognize it. You can place the face that went with it, the hardened features and cold eyes that left gooseflesh to skitter out along your skin.
Your body relaxes almost instantaneously, more so when you hear the sounds of soft chuckling from behind you. Perhaps it was unwise to relax, for all you knew, you would still be gutted like a fish and left to fester and rot in an alleyway as your entrails painted the ground. Would anyone find you right away? Or would you be left for the flies and maggots to get their fill before you’d be discovered.
Still, foolishly you answer, “No.” You breathe the words softly, letting the world around you swallow them whole. They were meant for him and no one else, a soft admission of complete and total submission to something far greater than you.
“You should be.” He replies; there’s a playful lilt to his voice like this was all some kind of sick game. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be a part of it, but you knew you didn’t have a choice in the matter. It was one thing to know this is what he got up to, which led to the clothes soaked in crimson but another to be on the receiving end. “It’s dangerous to be out here all alone, you never know who’s around. Who’s watching.”
You don’t say anything, and the grip on your throat tightens as if your silence was the wrong answer.
The question of ‘ should I be afraid of you? ’ sits perched on your tongue, but you don’t dare ask. You don’t want an answer to it, regardless of what it may be. Though you know the answer well enough. You should be scared of the man behind you; it would be ludicrous not to fear him.
The chilling fear that slugs through your veins doesn’t stop morbid excitement from blooming alongside it. The excitement is like a tart lemon filling to the fear laced pie crust; they fit together perfectly and leave a pleasant taste on your tongue. You crane your neck slightly to gaze over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the anguished expression of the cheap mask. Even masked, you can still feel eyes boring into you and peeling away the layers that make up who you are.
You read the papers, you heard first hand accounts televised for the very few lucky souls that escaped his grasp. Ghostface liked to play with his victims. There was no indication that you weren’t just another game to win, to conquer . You could very well just end up as another notch on his belt.
“Like you?” You try again, your voice a little louder than when you first spoke. It’s a little bolder, perhaps bolder than you should be for someone who didn’t have the upper hand and had a knife pressed against their ribs, but he hums in approval, and you can’t help but preen.
He begins to walk forward, forcing you to match his step. You go easily, letting him guide you into the depth of an alleyway. Here there would be no telling what he’d do; it was secluded enough that he could get away with anything without having to worry about prying eyes.
A part of you hoped that if this was his end goal, if you were truly just a toy to be tossed aside that he wouldn’t do you in like this. The thought of being slashed and stabbed behind a dumpster made you feel dirty and used. If a death at his hands was truly inevitable, you only wished it were somewhere else. Somewhere that made you feel like you meant something more to him.
“Like me.” He parrots with that same playful voice that makes bile rise in your throat.
Without warning, he moves the hand on your throat and places it in the space between your shoulder blades, and shoves you forwards into the burgundy bricks of the alley walls. You stumble for a moment before your cheek catches on the rough bricks. Pain immediately shoots out from the spot of impact, skittering out along to the rest of your face and down your neck with dull pulsations. The flames of fear that you had previously felt are reignited instantaneously, licking at your insides feverishly. At least the knife was no longer pressing against you. For the time being at least.
“There’s a lot of bad people out here.” His words are honeyed as if they are meant to comfort you for the cruelty of his actions. Instead, they make cold sweat form along your hairline. Hands come to rest on your hips, and you feel him press himself against the curve of your ass.
You can feel the subtle swell of his cock beneath the black robes he wore. Really, you shouldn’t be surprised he was getting off from this. Though it did bring forth the question of how far he would push this for the sake of chasing a sexual high. Still, you mindlessly press yourself back against him and grind yourself against his cock.
The silent plea for him to continue was met with a guttural growl that draws a whimper from your throat. You weren’t sure if it was a pavlovian response to hearing him or if the sticky web you found yourself in was equal parts terrifying as it was thrilling. There was something very wrong with you if you were getting off on this as much as he seemed to be.
For a moment, his hands slide along the curves of your body obscured by the sweatshirt you wore. His touch was filled with a reverence like you’re his prized trophy being rewarded with his. You savor it because it doesn’t last long, he’s quick to spin you around to face him, and finally, you’re able to fully take in the man before you. Shadows play over the white of the mask, and you can’t make out any discernible features through the dark mesh. You wish he would take it off so you could have an inkling of what was going on in that deranged mind of his.
“Do I have to force you on your knees? Or are you going to be good for me?” Danny’s voice is low and breathy, exhilaration dripping from each syllable as his patience frayed.
Wordlessly, you sink to your knees before him, tipping your head up to look at him with a bit of a cheeky smile before you begin to undo the knot that holds back the black robe he wears. His dark attire is revealed when it parts, and you make quick work of his belt and shove his jeans and briefs halfway down his thighs. You didn’t want to keep his waiting, not now, not like this. Even within the confines of your bedroom, it was more often him doing the teasing you. Seldom the other way around, it was rare for him to relinquish any shred of control to you.
Though you cherished the times, he allowed you to take your pleasure from him.
His cock bobs out against his stomach when free from the confines of his briefs, gooseflesh rising along his thighs as he’s exposed to the cool night air. He’s already rock hard and flushed from base to tip, the fear he had instilled in your earlier seemingly enough foreplay for him. You swallow the lump that forms in your throat and try not to dwell on that.
Leaning forward, you drag the flat of your tongue along the length of his cock before taking the head within your mouth. Danny tasted of salt and musk, the velvety flesh hot and heavy on your tongue. He lets out a soft sigh, and you only wish he wasn’t wearing that stupid masks so you could drink in the noises he made.
“Been watching you all night,” He breathes as you hollow your cheeks sucking eagerly as you bob your head along his length. Evidently, it wasn’t fast enough for his tastes, though. Or, at the very least, it wasn’t what he wanted at this moment. A hand is fisted within the soft locks of your hair, cradling the back of your skull. For a brief moment, you almost register the touch as something gentle and affectionate, but it doesn’t last long. It never does. You know to brace yourself and relax your throat before he forces himself further into your mouth. “Thinkin’ about your pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock.”
The stretch is sudden but not entirely unwelcome or unprepared for. Even as the head of his cock knocks against the back of your throat and you have to fight back the urge to choke. It doesn’t deter Danny; if anything, the way your throat spasmed and involuntary noises of protest spurs him on further. The grip he has on your head tightens till pain begins to blossom along your scalp as he mercilessly fucks your throat over and over again.
Hot tears well up at the corners of your eyes, spilling in fat globs as the man above assaults your throat, but not once do you lift your hands to brace them against his thighs. Instead, you kept them balled up on your lap in tight fists. It’s easier to not fight it; it’s easier to give him control. You know it will pay off in the end.
“Fuck, you’re mouth is so good.” His words are breathless from behind the mask. And God, you wish that he would take the damn thing off so you could watch the way his brows knit together and his lips part with quick breaths. “You look so pretty when you cry.”
Warmth floods your chest over the praise, heating your cheeks and flowing down below the neckline of your hoodie and to the tips of your fingers. It makes you never want to rise from your knees when he spoke like this. For all his faults, he knew exactly what buttons to press to string you along and keep you coming back for more.
He keeps to a brutal pace that is all consuming, leaving little time to suck in air between each thrust. It made your head feel fuzzy like soft cotton filled the space between your ears, and Danny is all that you can focus on, from the distinct smell of his cologne to the intoxicating taste that coated the surface of your tongue. A part of you may have hated him, but you’d be a liar to say you weren’t just as infatuated with him as he was you.
You want to touch yourself, but you know better than to do so without his explicit permission. If in any other situation, you may have done it anyway. There was always the distinct possibility that you touching yourself while bringing him pleasure would only stroke his ego. But that wasn’t something you wished to test lest you ended up gutted from your groin to your sternum, leaving your innards to spill out from where they belonged.
Then suddenly, your mouth is empty though a string of saliva still connects you to the flushed tip of his cock. The cottony feeling in your head begins to clear as you suck in lungfuls of the cold crisp night air. Each inhale burns, bringing forth the fact that you were painfully alive.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” He asks as if the debauched expression painting your face wasn’t evidence enough. He reaches down, grabbing his cock and stroking himself slowly for a moment before tapping himself against your flushed cheek. “Right here where anyone could find you?”
“Yes,” You don’t even think as you speak; just let the words mindlessly tumble off your tongue. To accentuate your point, you rock your hips down against nothing, pushing you further into depravity, and if Danny wasn’t masked, you’re sure he would be staring down at you with an unnerving Cheshire grin. “Want you to show me who I belong to.”
Danny groans at that, hips jutting forward involuntarily at your words.
“Yeah? You’re seriously getting turned on by this?” He muses, bringing his hand to cup your cheek. A leather clad thumb slowly stroking over the ridge of your cheekbone. “You’re such a disgusting whore, know that?”
“Do you not like it?” You feign a semblance of innocence as you look up at him through your lashes with big eyes, but you can’t help the way the corners of your lips curl up in a slight smirk.
“Oh no, I do. I really do. ” He confirms, moving his thumb to brush over your spit slicked lips. Quickly, you part them for him once more to let his thumb slip inside. An earthy flavor fills your mouth as the digit roves over your teeth, stopping to press into your molars and forcing your mouth open wider. “Would’ve done it sooner if I knew I’d get a reaction like this.”
He pulls his hand free, not bothering to wipe it down on his clothing before extending his hand to you. You take it, and he helps pull you to your feet before the roughness of his touch takes over once more till your face is pressed against the brick once more. The pain that had subsided is reignited along your cheek again as he presses you into the cold, rough surface.
“I’m going to fucking wreck you.” He warns, his tone low and dangerous. He makes quick work of your belt, returning your treatment of him to you in that your pants and underwear are hastily pushed halfway down your thighs with little restraint.
You shudder and let out a shaky exhale when you feel his gloved fingers rubbing through your slick folds, rocking your hips back to chase your pleasure. “But judging by how wet you are, that’s what you want, hmm? Tell me you want me to wreck you baby.”
“Please,” You speak in a shaky tone, breath hitching as he lazily toys with you. “Wanna feel you inside of me, want to make you feel good.”
He doesn’t listen to your pleas, or perhaps he is. There was nothing to say that him wrecking you was him splitting you open with his cock. For all you knew, he would toy with you till your slick began to dribble down your thigh, and tears of frustration joined your already streaked cheeks. You feel him slowly spread you open, accompanied by a low hum of approval before two gloved fingers are sinking inside you with little resistance.
You bring your hands up to rest against the brick wall as a weak attempt to steady yourself as you focus on the feeling of the thick fingers plunging in and out of you. The ridges of the leather gloves made your thighs tremble, and you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering to what these gloves hands had done. Were they coated with some poor souls’ blood? Your stomach does a flip at the thought.
“Please Danny,” You whimper, pressing back against the intrusion.
“Are you fucking stupid?” The words are a sharp hiss, and you feel that familiar drag of his blade against your ass. It presses in hard enough that you feel an intense burning sensation accompanied by a warm liquid rolling over the curve of your ass. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep that name out of your whore mouth before I cut that wicked tongue out.”
As angry as he is, you can still hear the excitement that drips from him. The way his words tremble with the thrill of all of this. All of this was exciting: the mask, the looming threat of being caught, and the act of being a ravenous predator tearing his prey down to sinew and desperation.
When he pulls his fingers from you, you can’t help but cry out at the loss. You feel painfully empty, and there’s an insatiable craving gnawing in the pit of your belly. He laughs at you, the sound cold and uncaring.
“Patience is a virtue.” He drones as he drags the head of his cock along your folds. His movements are slow and controlled, and when you let out a sharp whine, you can’t help the humiliation that burns you from the inside out. It was embarrassing to be reduced to this over his actions while he could remain so composed.
There is no warning when he sinks in with one fluid motion. It tears a loud cry from your throat at the sudden stretch. He was much bigger than his fingers, even with the extra layer of gloves, and left a dull ache to pulse through your body. You don’t mind the pain though, you were well past that and found that the pain had become synonymous with pleasure, the lines have blurred too much for you to untangle them and pull them from one another.
“That’s it. Keep making those pretty sounds for me. I want you to let everyone know you’re mine.” His pace is quick and without remorse, the sounds of his hips slapping against your ass echoing off the tall walls that towered over you. It would be clear as day what the two of you were doing within the dark shadows of the alleyway should anyone pass by. You had a feeling that the thought of that turned him on.
Your nails scratch against the rough surface of the bricks, the feeling rough against the delicate skin of your fingertips. You can’t stop, so desperate to try and ground yourself in reality as his cock presses in over and over again. Each movement of his hips pushed you further into the depths of insanity, where you were far from any coherent thought as the pit of your stomach began to tighten.
“ You’re nothing without me ,” He groans low in his throat, reaching up to grasp your hair within his fist so he could pull your head back in a quick jerk barring your neck for him. He puts the knife against your throat, holding it with enough pressure that you’re worried it’ll break the skin, and you’ll have conspicuous marks decorating your throat. The thought of him slipping up looms within your head like a dark cloud as well, one miscalculation of pressure or movement, and your venous or arterial could be split apart, leaving you to gurgle and drown in your own blood. “No one can make you feel this good, they don’t know you like I know you.”
Chills race through your body like sparks of lightning, and you can’t help but clench down around him and rock back to meet his thrusts. “ Harder .” You rasp, eyes clenching shut as you let the feelings wash over you in large, unforgiving waves.
Danny lets a moan of his own slip out into the world. The note is music to your ears. He obliges, hips moving harder and the knife to your throat digging in painfully till you’re sure the skin has broken. But you can’t be sure, not with the sweat that trails along your flushed skin. Even if it hadn’t, there will surely be a mark left.
You begin to babble mindlessly, a litany of pleas and nonsensical words of encouragement tumbling past your lips as the knots of pleasure have begun to tighten almost uncomfortably within you. It doesn’t take long for your body to leap over the edge, plunging you headfirst into a wave of pure ecstasy that leaves your legs to tremble uncontrollably. If it weren’t for the wall keeping you up, the knife to your throat and the grip Danny had on your hair, you’re confident your knees would have crumbled under the force of your orgasm.
You feel warmth spread out along your limbs as he fucks you through, your cunt fluttering wildly around his cock as he continues to use you for his own release. The pleasure and oversensitivity blurring into one long relentless orgasm that left your throat raspy and toes curling as you let him reach his finish within you with stuttering thrusts and guttural noises.
After a few moments, Danny releases the grip he has on your hair and lowers his knife, and you feel a wave of security as soon as the blade isn’t pressed against such a vulnerable area of your body. The two of you linger with his still twitching cock within you, the only sounds filling the alleyway being the rapid inhales and exhales as you both fought to compose yourself.
Slowly, he drags himself out of you, an obscene squelching noise cutting through the air that makes your body tense in a cringe. You remain there against the wall limply, unable to find the strength to make yourself decent quite yet. In that time, you hear the telltale sound of a shutter going off as your photo is taken.
Flames lick at your cheek, body flushing with humiliation. It wasn’t the first time he had photographed you in the act, far from it, but with everything that happened, this, in particular, felt more embarrassing than any other time.
“Are you going to send that off to the press too?” You breathe, turning your head to catch a glimpse of the mask that stared intently at you.
Danny laughs deeply at that, slipping the camera back into one of the pockets of his dark cloak. “I’d kill someone before they got to see you like this.”